“Native Americans?” Goldie corrected.
“Oh, wait,” he remembered. “Johnny Bodine. He’s one, I think. I mean, his dad is a member of that lodge over in Brownsville.”
“That’s the Elks,” Josie corrected. “They don’t have anything to do with Indians.”
“Native Americans,” Goldie corrected again.
“Yeah, but they meet in a ‘lodge,’” he argued.
“Barbara Little used to have a tepee in her backyard for sleepovers,” the young woman recalled. “That doesn’t mean her parents were Apache.”
“Apache were really tough,” the young man noted. “They’d ride a horse until it dropped and then eat it.”
“You guys are missing the point,” Goldie said.
Both of them looked at her.
“Native Americans don’t want to be portrayed by white people wearing cheesy costumes.”
The young man examined the girl behind the counter. “Thatisa cheesy costume,” he agreed. Then he smiled. “But you look really cute in it.”
“Thank you,” Josie grinned with her deep dimples.
Goldie expelled a breath. “I can see that raisin’ social consciousness around here is goin’ to be challengin’. Kinda like Megan Fox takin’ acting lessons.” She held up what she came for. “Thanks for the phone book.”
She stepped a few feet away to the edge of the counter so the young people could continue their conversation. She wanted the directory to find a local photographer who either already had some holiday photos of Sparkledove or was willing to take some for a price, should she decide to attempt an article. Though she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help but hear what the two teenagers were talking about.
“I get off at 6 p.m.,” the costumed Josie said. “You’ve got to be at my house no later than ten after.”
“What time is dinner?” he asked.
“About 7:00. Will you be able to eat again?”
“My Mom’s serving about 4:30, but I’ll eat light. If your mom’s not serving until 7:00, why do I have to be there so early?”
“My Aunt Ami will be there, and she drives me nuts,” Josie answered. Then, she affected an irritating older adult voice. ‘Josie, are you really going to wear your hair like that, dear? How serious are you and Dexter? When he finishes high school in the spring, is he going to enlist? Why the army? The Marines are better. Have you thought about college? Have you chosen a vocation?Iwas a teacher, you know?’ The woman can ask more questions than a Japanese interrogator. You’ve got to be there to help me deflect her nosiness.”
“Okay,” the young man agreed. “6:10, you got it.”
“Dexter, promise?”
The young man smiled, then turned and started to walk toward the front doors. As he went, he said, “Just call my name. I’ll be there. Just look over your shoulder, honey.”
Goldie paused from studying the phone directory and looked up curiously toward the young man as he disappeared out the door.
Whoa. How weird was that?she thought.That kid just recited a couple of lines from “I’ll Be There” by the Jackson 5.
She turned back to the counter with a bemused smile at the coincidence and spent about thirty more seconds perusing the directory when an older man, whom the young woman recognized, came into the lobby.
“Hi, Mayor,” she greeted. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Josie,” the man reciprocated, approaching. “Nice Indian costume.”
“It’s Native American,” she corrected, glancing toward Goldie.
“Uh—okay. I’m looking for Karen Maraschino.”
Goldie quickly took the gum out of her mouth and turned to the man. As she did, she subtly stuck it under the counter.
