I peered over his shoulder like a school marm and scrutinized his handiwork. Billy Dee, I concluded, was either a tailor or an ex-marine. His stitches were exemplary. As were Linda’s. If the two of them finished up the quilt, I stood a good chance of winning first prize at the county fair in August.
“I’ve seen worse,” I said. It doesn’t pay, you know, to praise people too highly. Not when you want more work out of them. Big egos lead to lazy fingers—that’s what Mama always said.
“Thank you, Ms. Yoder,” said Linda nonetheless. “This is actually a lot of fun.”
“That’s ‘Miss,’ ” I reminded her, “not ‘Mizz.’ ”
She giggled, brushed a strand of long, mouse-brown hair out of her eyes, and went back to work. When not in the presence of Jeanette Parker, she seemed pleasant enough. Perhaps she could be reasoned with as well.
“Ms. McMahon,” I began hesitantly, “I am aware that you are a member of the Animal Parity Endowment Society, and I know why you’re here.”
Linda looked up at me with almost mocking sweetness. “And why is that?”
“To harass the Congressman and his wife, of course.”
Linda flashed a not-so-sweet look at Billy Dee. “You told!”
He nodded. “It was just a matter of time, Linda. Subterfuge is not my strong point.”
“Well, then, Miss Yoder, what is it you want?”
I swallowed hard before taking the big plunge. “I would like for you, I mean all of you, to keep your protest out of the inn. I am a pacifist, you know.”
Linda turned her gaze back to her work. “I can respect that, Miss Yoder. I really can. We are, after all, pacifists ourselves.”
“Quakers?” I asked hopefully. Although I’m sure there must be some, I had never heard of a vegetarian Mennonite.
Linda giggled again. She was either a very good actress, or as sweet as maple syrup. “I belong to the New Age Church of Holistic Oneness, Miss Yoder. We don’t believe in violence either. Against humans—or animals. That’s why we must protest the taking of innocent lives. In this case, deer lives. And what better way to spread our gospel of inter-species coexistence than to bring it to the attention of the media.”
My throat felt dry. “Which media?” To my knowledge Hernia only had a weekly paper.
Linda didn’t miss a beat. I mean stitch. “The national media, of course. ABC, CNN, you know the ones.”
“I don’t watch television,” I said proudly. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. Occasionally when Susannah is out, I sneak into her room and watch reruns of “Green Acres.” “And besides which, why single out Congressman Ream? Tomorrow there will be thousands of hunters out there.”
“Sad, yet true. But how many of them are ambitious politicians, who at the very least will attract media coverage and who are in the position to introduce legislation outlawing this barbaric pastime?”
“You have a point,” I conceded, “but can you at least keep the inn out of it?”
Linda sighed the impatient sigh of the young. When Susannah, who is not so young anymore, does it, she rolls her eyes as well. Linda, to her credit, kept her eyes on her work. “I already told you, Miss Yoder, I respect your wishes. I do not lie.”
As long as she wasn’t looking up, there was no harm in me rolling my eyes, was there? “I believe you. But what about Miss Parker? She’s your leader, isn’t she?”
Linda and Billy both laughed. “Ma’am,” said Billy, who did look up and almost caught me in mid-roll, “we A.P.E.S. don’t have leaders. We do things by consensus. What Linda says goes for me as well. As I’m sure it will for Joel. So you don’t have nothing to worry about, Miss Yoder. Except maybe getting a good night’s sleep and finding yourself a new cook.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, “how does buckwheat pancakes with home-harvested honey sound for breakfast?” I was trying to be cooperative, I really was.
“Is the honey organic?” inquired Linda.
“The bees are especially bred to produce organic honey,” I said, rolling my eyes again.
Billy Dee caught my look and winked. “Got any bacon to go with that?”
“Home-cured. Organic as well.”
“Very funny,” said Linda, still not looking up.
“Mr. Grizzle,” I then said nervously, “may I please speak to you a moment out in the hall? It’s about that problem with the toilet in your room.”
Of course, there was nothing wrong with Billy Dee’s toilet, and it was stupid of me to imply that there was. Susannah always says I add too many details to my lies. Sparse lies, she says, generally go across much better.