Free Mercy Me by Margaret A. Graham Page B

flooding alongside the curbs, rushing down the drains. I was so happy I could’ve run outside in that rain buck naked!

10

    It rained all Friday night, a slow steady rain. Saturday morning a drizzle set in, but in the afternoon the sun came out long enough for me to take a look at the garden. It did my heart good to see puddles running down between the rows. My tomatoes, kind of beat down by the rain, looked like they didn’t know what to make of it. But they popped right back up and started growing. So did the weeds. Weeds are like sins—they grow faster than the good stuff.
    By the time I got back in the house, it was coming down again. It rained off and on all Saturday night, but it didn’t keep that woman from walking the street below my house. I watched her a little while, but it was such a good night for sleeping, I decided to go to bed. I made up my mind that when the weather let up and I couldhide in the bushes, I was going to get the license number of that white truck if he picked her up again.
    By Sunday morning it had quit raining, except for drops falling off the trees. A lot of people didn’t show up for church, but those that did—well, sheep never looked so sheepish.
    Monday morning I got a note from Beatrice telling me she had taken the pie upstairs.
    I went upstairs with that pie like you told me to. My knees were knocking even though he was not yelling and she was not crying. When they let me in, I asked them what they fight about and he laughed and said, “Any little thing comes up,” and she laughed too. I was so nerviss I didn’t stay long but I did remember to invite them to come to see me sometime and they both started talking about how busy they were. Esmeralda, I really don’t think I can handle them visiting me but I asked them to bring my plate back so I guess one of them will have to come downstairs.
    They did not fight last night. I fell asleep listening to them up there laughing.
    Esmeralda, I did this for Jesus. I hope you are satisfied.
    I was. I was pleased as punch. She was making a good start, and I felt I could drop the other bombshell on her,so I wrote her right back. I cut it short about the rain and all, then wrote:
    Beatrice, I have got the letter you wrote a while back about that pigtail man. It’s right here on my lap. You say in your letter he comes in the store every day and he asked if you liked to go to the picture show and if you liked to bowl.
    Have you got no sense? That man is showing interest in you. Before you have a dying duck fit, give it some thought. I have been asking the Lord for some time to give you a man friend—not a husband, just a man friend. When we pray we have got to look for an answer, so that is what I’m asking you to do.
    From what you say, this Carl sounds like he is on in years. Don’t let that turn you off. You and I are not spring chickens running around with roosters. At your age you can’t expect to get a man who has not been preowned even if now he is not owned lock, stock, and barrel. A widderwer is your best bet. Next time Carl comes in the store, you take a good look at him and write me what you find out.
    I was surprised Beatrice didn’t call me right up after she got my letter. After two or three days I was beginning to wonder if Carl had quit coming in the store. I hoped she was just too busy. One good thing about Beatriceis she never gets mad at me, and I must admit I have been pretty hard on her at times.
    There’s a hedge runs around my place, and before that streetwalker put in her nightly appearance, I took a little stool out there and positioned myself behind the hedge where I could get a close enough view to read any license plate that came along. I had my pencil and pad resting on my knee, and at about ten o’clock, there she was. Well, I tell you, I was so close I could nearly see the whites of her eyes! Her skirt was short, and them skinny legs were wobbling on