"Harland Peterson wanted to be part of the play. But he refused to dress up in a costume."
"And!"
"The Petersons have owned most of the town for generations. See that nice house there, over by the pavilion? Tom Peterson lives there. He's Harland's cousin. Harland donated the land for the park. And he owns a tractor."
"Ah." A look of ineffable pleasure crossed Edward's face. "I'm going to enjoy this."
Howie Murchison, Tom Peterson, and Elmer Henry ranged themselves in front of the stool. Esther dragged Mavis unceremoniously in front of them, shoved her head forward into a bowed and penitent attitude, then spoke earnestly to her. She stepped back, raised both arms, and dropped them.
"Take One!" she shouted.
"Are they filming this?" said Edward.
"Oh, no," said Quill cheerfully. "Esther sent away for a PBS videotape on directors' techniques. The Chamber argued for months about paying for it."
"Did they pay?" asked Edward, clearly fascinated.
"No. Marge said she'd tell Esther what to do for free."
"I ACCUSE!" roared Elmer Henry suddenly.
Mrs. Hallenbeck jumped.
"It's just the play," said Quill. "There's a whole bunch of `accuses.' "
"I ACCUSE GOODY MARTIN OF THESE WILLFUL AND SATANIC ACTS !" Elmer hollered again. "THE DEATH ! OF MY GOOD MILCH COW! THE SICKENING AND DISEASE OF MY FLOCK OF HENS !"
"Crowd!" demanded Esther authoritatively. "The chorus, please!"
The crowd consisted of the eighteen Chamber members who didn't have major speaking parts. Quill noticed Keith Baumer had insinuated himself into the group.
Mumblings indicated the crowd was confused. Esther circulated briefly, issuing instructions, then stepped aside. "Take Two!"
"I ACCUSE!" roared Elmer, and recounted the death of several chickens, ducks, and sundry hogs.
"Crowd!" shouted Esther imperatively.
"Sink or swim! Sink or swim!" the crowd roared.
Mavis flung her hands over her head and fell to the ground with a thud. "As God is my witness! I'll never be hungry again!" Mavis shrieked dramatically.
Esther threw her script to the ground, hauled Mavis up by the collar of the print dress, and shook her finger in her face. "Take Three!" she said in loud disgust.
Elmer, Tom, and Howie declaimed in turn about the demise of their livestock. The crowd yelled "Sink or swim" until it was hoarse. With a defiant shake of her head at Esther, Mavis prostrated herself in front of her accusers and cried, "As God is my witness... I am innocent!"
"She got the line right this time," said Quill. , The "judge" - Gil in a black cloak, a tricorne hat, and a ruffled shirt - handed Mavis over for trial.
"Of course," Edward observed with a mischievous glance at Quill. "The French costumes. So much more attractive than those staid Pilgrims."
Screaming enthusiastically, Mavis was dragged to the ducking stool, roped in, and swung aloft. The front loader flipped forward, and Mavis slid into the pond. She emerged and swam to shore to loud applause.
"They go to the pavilion and have the trial next," said Quill.
"What happens there?" asked Edward.
"Well, she's tried. Convicted. There's this speech. Elmer comes out from behind the fence with a horse-drawn sledge and she's drawn off on it just long enough to substitute a dummy. The sledge comes back with a hooded dummy on it - they believed witches could hypnotize you to hell with their eyes. There's a procession to the foot of that statue of General Hemlock, and then a bunch of guys lower a barn door onto the dummy and the crowd piles stones on it."
"My goodness!" said Mrs. Hallenbeck. "The violence of these Pilgrims."
"Straight out of a Shirley Jackson story," muttered Edward. Gil, his arm around a laughing Mavis, broke away from the crowd at the pond and headed toward them. Keith Baumer and Marge followed them like hopeful puppies.
"You're soaking wet, Mavis," said Mrs. Hallenbeck. "You should change."
"Don't worry your little ol' head about me," said Mavis with a broad smile. "So. What d'yall think?"
"You were marvelous," said Quill promptly. "It's going beautifully. If you don't mind, I'm going to take Mrs. Hallenbeck back to the Inn. I've got a lot of work backed up."
"Oh, we'll take care of Mrs. Hallenbeck," said Gil. He swept his tricorne off his head with a flourish. "Ma'am? Mavis has told me all about you. I'm eager to make your acquaintance. Mavis here suggested we take you down to the pavilion so you can watch the rest of the play. Then we're going along to Marge's diner for a bite of supper-Keith, Marge, Mavis, and me."
Mavis batted her eyelashes at Edward. "Why don't you come along, too?" She smoothed her print dress over her hips. "I am just dyin' to hear what you think of the rest of it. And Amelia? You're going to love Gil, here. I have to tell you he reminds me a lot of your late husband, good man that he was." She smiled even more broadly at Quill. "Now, what's that worried frown for? I've been taking care of this lady for a good many years now. She's in good hands, Miss Quilliam."
Quill, walking back to the Inn alone, had begun to doubt that very much.
"It's not that I have anything to go on other than this feeling, Myles," she said to him over a late dinner. "There's just something odd about Mavis."
"What, exactly?"
"The first day she was here, she was - I don't know. I thought. This poor woman is completely under Mrs. Hallenbeck's thumb. I even thought how awful her life must be, at this dreadful old woman's beck and call. But now..." She moved the salt and pepper shakers a little closer to the sugar bowl, then back again. The dining room was quiet. Most of the staff had gone home.
"Now, what?"
"Mrs. Hallenbeck isn't dreadful - just pathetic and lonely. And I don't think it's the Valium that's making Mavis so..."
"Slutty?" suggested Myles.
"... she's just like that!"
"Sheriffl" Davey Kiddermeister rapped at the dining room door and walked in. The youngest of the uniformed officers on Myles's force, his normally ruddy face was pale. "Sheriff? Gil Gilmeister's dead. They found him drowned over to the duck pond. Where the play was on this afternoon. He and Marge and a couple of guests from the Inn were at the Croh Bar. Guess they were getting into the booze pretty good."
"Dammit!" said Myles. He rose in a single powerful movement. "Quill. You stay here, understand me? I don't want you meddling."
Quill, a little numb with shock, followed them out the door.
-5-
Davey raced ahead to set up the floodlights. Following Myles to the duck pond, Quill saw that the moon was a ghostly galleon riding the wine-dark sea. Bess, the landlord's daughter, she told herself in justification, would have been a lot better off if she'd done something rather than hanging out the Inn window fiddling with her hair.
"Myles."
Myles didn't bother to turn around, but threw over his shoulder, "Back to the Inn, Quill."
"T-lot t-lot to you, too," she muttered, jogging behind him. Then aloud, "If nothing else, I can see that the rescue team gets coffee."