Free Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair by Liz Marvin Page A

next?”  “Get the gossiping grannies and bring them to the cooking tent” Betty whispered “and hurry!”
     
    Clarise nodded once and was on her way.  Steeling herself Betty walked directly up to Thelma.  “Who is it?”  She asked before Betty had reached her.
     
    Betty ducked under the tape and locked arms with Thelma.  “Come on.  Take me back to the tent.”
     
    Putting Thelma in charge was a stroke of genius.  She cooed comforting words to Betty and shooed everyone else away.  Betty couldn’t have made it back to the tent faster if she had sprinted not; she thought wryly, that she was likely to be sprinting anywhere.
     
    Addie was dumping one of two old wooden buckets filled with water into a huge old kettle sitting atop the large restaurant stove that Achmed had managed to finagle for them.  Her hair was matted and face glistened with sweat from the exertion but she smiled at the two women when they entered the tent.
     
    “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Thelma demanded.  Addie, to her credit, did not back down.  “There weren’t nobody here so I figured to stick around and keep an eye out.  I run home to pick more berries and brought back creek water to cook with.  It has more minerals and such and makes everything taste better. Least that’s what grannie used to say.”
     
    Betty shook free from Thelma “How far away do you live?”
     
    Addie looked at her shoes, dusty and scuffed. “Oh I dunno.  Mebbe six mile if you go straight and don’t bother with roads.”
     
    “You carried those buckets of water six miles?”  Even Thelma seemed impressed.
     
    Addie was bashful again. “Aww no.  Creek’s no more’n four and a half mile away.  Berry patch is even closer and I got enough to make a pie – that is if I can start to cooking them tonight.”
     
    Betty cast a wary eye toward Thelma who only hesitated a moment.  “All right, fine. But only prep work. You can’t start making the crust or the pie until tomorrow.”
     
    Addie practically jumped and her smile warmed even Thelma’s heart.  Thelma actually smiled back when Addie gave her a quick hug. “I need two more buckets of water before I can finish!” and the girl was off and running before either Betty or Thelma could stop her.
     
    Thelma sighed as the girl disappeared. “I wish I had half her energy.”
     
    “You and me both,” Betty agreed.  “But it would be wasted on me because I would never run eight miles through the dark for two buckets of creek water.”  Thelma laughed.  It was quiet, almost birdlike and delicate but it was genuine.  Betty took Thelma’s hand and led her to a bench, sitting down and never letting go.  Thelma looked into Betty’s face and read the truth.
     
    “It was somebody I know.”  Not a question.  Betty nodded and squeezed her hands.  “Thelma I just don’t know how else to say it. It was Marlee May.”  Thelma didn’t react.  Betty took a deep breath and tried again “Marlee May Johnson is dead.”
     
    Thelma pulled free and stood up.  “No!  She can’t be dead.  She has to bake …”   Thelma fainted.  Betty jumped up in time to catch her.  She lowered her to the dirt floor and held her in a sitting position and waited for her to regain consciousness.
     
    Clarise arrived with Mrs. Livingston and Edna Rail “Betty this is all I could round up – oh!”
     
    Clarise didn’t need to ask what happened.  She knew. Ira Livingston and Edna Rail clearly did not.  They rushed to gather up Thelma and care for her, sparing dirty looks for Betty who gladly relinquished her spot.
     
    Betty sidled up to Clarise “How did you manage not telling them?”
     
    “I’m an actress. I improvised.”
     
    Thelma came around and immediately dissolved into tears.  She was unable to talk.  Ira and Edna quietly fought for the privilege of having Thelma’s head resting on her shoulder.  Thelma obliged them both slipping from one embrace to the other,