Free Rebel McKenzie by Candice Ransom

face.
    â€œRebel, you can’t wear flip-flops in a pageant.” Miss Odenia checked the clock over the stove. “I’ll teach you pivot turns tomorrow. Now we need to get ready.”
    As we fluffed a snowy cloth over the card table and set out hobnail glass luncheon plates, Miss Odenia instructed us to speak politely but only when we’re spoken to, serve plates to the left and clear from the right, and serve ice tea to the right. All that nice-manners stuff got on my nerves.
    â€œI wasn’t raised in a barn, you know.” I glanced out the window to see Rudy, who was supposed to be playing in the backyard, heading for the sewer pipe.
    Jerking open the front door, I yelled, “Rudy Parsley, get your scrawny butt back in the yard this instant!”
    â€œWhat on earth ?” complained a woman teetering at the bottom of the cement steps. “I’ve never heard such screeching!”
    It was the lady with the Tastee-Freez hair, three colors swirled on her head like a triple twist cone. Bambi Lovering’s mother.
    Behind her, two ladies bumped into each other like people in a fire drill. One was decked out in so much costume jewelry, it was a wonder she could stand up. The other had on a flowery pinafore over a white puff-sleeved blouse. Her outfit would have been fine on a nine-year-old, but she had to be pushing fifty.
    Miss Odenia hustled me inside. “Go in the kitchen with Lacey Jane and remember what I told you.” Then she told her company to come on in.
    They clattered into the little hall, jostling pocketbooks and clucking like hens.
    â€œLaw,” said Jewelry Woman. “I like to melted out there.”
    â€œEvery bit of the curl fell plumb out of my hair,” Pinafore remarked.
    â€œYes, it’s another scorcher. Some ice tea will fix you right up.” Miss Odenia cut her eyes toward me and Lacey Jane.
    We poured four glasses and carried them into the living room to the card table. After some backing and filling, Lacey Jane and I figured out how to serve to the right without crashing into each other. Miss Odenia snapped her napkin open in her lap. Our signal to bring in the luncheon plates.
    My mouth drooled at the sight of itty-bitty chicken salad and pimento cheese sandwiches in the shape of hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs, wafer-thin slices of buttered date-nut bread, frosty grapes, and tea cakes dusted with confectioner’s sugar.
    â€œMiz Odenia,” I whispered as I set her plate down, “can we have the leftovers?” Lynette hadn’t gone grocery shopping. For lunch, I’d nibbled a few bites of Rudy’s hot dog spaghetti. It was either that or a pine float (glass of water and a toothpick).
    â€œIf my guests don’t want seconds,” she murmured. Fat chance. Those ladies ate like a pack of wolverines. They’d have seconds, all right, and probably lick the dishes sitting in the sink.
    Lacey Jane served Bambi’s mother with a big smile, but the woman ignored her.
    I followed Lacey Jane back into the kitchen and hung over the counter to listen to the ladies gab.
    The older woman dressed like a Christmas tree was Viola Sandbanks. She sold Madame Queen costume jewelry. Palmer Sandbanks was her daughter, the famous Palmer who scared the mailman so bad, he stuck the mail in the wrong boxes.
    Mimsie Lovering was Bambi’s mother, a fact she wouldn’t let anyone forget for a second. According to her, Bambi was the prettiest, most talented girl on this planet.
    Then I saw a dark brown paw snake out from under the tablecloth. I knew the owner of that foot and prayed it hadn’t been splashing in the toilet lately. The paw waved around until its claws snagged the hobnailed edge of Mrs. Lovering’s plate and slowly began to pull. I shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to watch.
    Mrs. Lovering’s scream made my eyes fly open. The plate flipped in her lap, and buttery date-nut bread smeared all over her white