fig about.
Which is why it was particularly bad when, near the end of âHow Great Thou Art,â Frankie started to get an especially itchy feeling in her backside from the bunching of her petticoat. She shifted her feet and wiggled a little to shake it loose. When that made no difference, Frankie inched backward until she could feel the corner of the mahogany altar behind her. On a few trips through the countryside, you see, Frankie had watched cows use fence posts for scratching, which she thought looked to be quite effective. And so she positioned herself to give that a try. But as she did, Elizabeth turned around and shot Apache arrows from her eyes until she returned to her side.
Frankie made it three-quarters of the way through the next stanza before the itching was about to send her into madness. There was only one thing left to be done. Frankie looked at Mother as she sang âAnd take me home, what joy shall fill my heart,â trying to tell her with her eyes how sorry she was for what she was about to do. Also, she said sorry to God just in case what she was about to do was a sin. Most things seemed to be.
Then with quiet desperation she promptly reached both hands up the back of her dress and grabbed at the miserable petticoat that was plaguing her rear end. She began to scratch at it furiouslyuntil she felt the most wonderful relief. So wonderful, in fact, that Frankie finished the last lines of the hymnâstill scratching, mind youâwith renewed vigor.
By the last chord, Miss Fisk was staring at Frankie with an open mouth and still holding down the organ keys with enough firmness that her fingertips had lost their color. Finally she released the organ keys, and when the very last note faded away into the high, arched ceiling, Ava, all red-faced from laughing, hollered, âGreat snakes, Frankie!â
Then Mother fainted.
And Frankie thought,
Too bad Joan is in Pennsylvania, because she would have loved to see this.
June 11, 1939
Dearly departed Joanie Baloney,
Youâve only been gone for four whole days and look what happens. Mother fainted at church. It was right at the end of How Great Thou Art,â which Elizabeth and me sang without dearly-departed-you. Daddyâs reflexes are getting better because this time he caught her before she hit the floor. Reverend Martin splashed some holy water in her face. And that seemed to rouse her fine. Honest to goodness, Iâve never seen Elizabeth so red-faced!
Lo and behold, it wasnât because I scratched my behind while singing at Godâs altar. Mother said she didnât even see that! She said she fainted because she was full of worries on account of a big announcement that Daddy had to make. So right away I thought maybe we were going to have a new baby brother or sister because of how Eddie Milnickâs mother fainted that time at the cinema, do you remember that? And sure enough a couple of weeks later Mrs. Milnickâs stomach swelled up like a watermelon. Anyway, this is what I was thinking was wrong with Mother, and then how I wouldnât be stuck in the last spot anymore.
But then Mother told me to go round up Grandma Engel and Aunt Edith and everybody, and when we were all there in the kitchen waiting for Daddy to say we have to make room for little Shirley or Groucho, Daddy said, âWeâre going into the restaurant business.â Thatâs the big announcement. Daddy bought a restaurant across town and weâre all going to haveto work there, they said, until itâs up and running. Except not you, because youâre not here! Itâs no surprise that Elizabeth thinks itâs a wonderful idea. She would never disagree with Mother or Daddy about anything, even if it means working at a restaurant all summer long and not having any amusement.
Do you see what happens when you go away? Bad things. Bad things happen, Iâm telling you.
How are you getting along at Aunt Dottieâs?