As if reading my mind, he said, “How about we deliver April’s message and get out of here?”
We drew near Tally’s Dozer, and remembering the errand I was on made my thoughts take a more serious turn.
At first, I thought the game was unattended because I couldn’t see anyone looking out over the top. We went around to the door flap and I opened it to peer inside. “Tally?”
She was seated on a low stool at the rear of the space, leafing through a magazine. “Oh, hey, Deborah! When did you get here?”
She rose and came out to join us.
“You know Major Bryant, of course.”
“Oh yes.” Her smile was so like Andrew’s, I wanted to go right over to his house and throw him back under that cold shower. Anything to bring him to his senses.
“Arnie told me how it all came out this evening. The kid that stole back his grandfather’s pictures? And the mother paid three-fifty to get them back? She must’ve really loved her father.”
“More like she loved her son and was glad you and your husband weren’t pressing charges,” I told her.
She gave a sad shrug. “Kids do crazy things sometimes.”
I put out my hand to her. “Tally, April came to see you this morning while you were out at your place with Dwight here.”
“Oh?”
“She wanted to meet you and tell you to be sure to invite as many of your friends tomorrow as you like. She and some of my sisters-in-law—your aunts—will he serving lunch after the service, and they don’t know how to fix for less than an army.”
That got a small smile. She started to speak when the booth on the far side of the Dozer suddenly exploded with flashing strobe lights and ear-piercing sirens that seemed to go on for a full ninety seconds. Everyone stopped in their tracks and turned to watch as the winner of the Bowler Roller stepped up to claim his prize.
“Thank God that only happens about two or three times a night,” said Tally when the lights and siren finally cut off. “Flash is one thing, but that damn siren’s a killer.”
“Pulls them in, though, doesn’t it?” I said, watching young men line up to try their luck at setting the bells and whistles off again.
“That’s the whole point,” Tally said with a resigned shrug.
One of her customers called for change, another was ready to cash in her prize chips. While we waited for her to come back, I glanced around the end of the tent where little children were splashing their hands in the water, trying for prizes at the duck pond. Across the way, a teenager was demonstrating to potential customers how easy it was to climb the rope ladder to reach the prizes at the top.
From the other side of the Dozer tent came the entrancing odor of fried dough sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon. I was ready to follow my nose when Tally returned. Someone else immediately claimed her attention, though.
“Hey, Tal?”
A rough-looking man, late forties probably, with bloodshot eyes, full tattoos on both arms, and a day’s growth of whiskers leaned wearily against the end of the Dozer.
“Sam? When did you get in?” Tally said. “Did you get them?”
“Yeah, Arnie’s there. You seen Polly? How come she didn’t open up tonight?”
Dwight and I followed their eyes across the crowd to where Polly’s Plate Pitch was still dark and shuttered.
“She ain’t in the trailer and the girls say they ain’t seen her all day, neither.”
Tally shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam. It’s been so crazy here. You want to go ahead and open it up for me?”
“I’ll open it, but I can’t work it. I missed some of the road markers coming in and got turned around, wasted an hour. I gotta go get some sleep, Tal. I nearly run off the road just before I got here.”
“That’s okay, I’ll find somebody. Here, Deborah,” she said, untying her money apron and handing it to me. “Mind the Dozer for me a minute? Make change? If anybody wants to cash in for a prize, ask them to wait or come back later, okay?”
“Hey, wait!” I called. “I don’t think—”
Too late. She had disappeared into the crowd, leaving me holding the bag in the shape of a money apron.
“I don’t think this is something appropriate for a judge to be doing,” I told Dwight, who just shook his head in amusement.
“Don’t look at me, shug. If it’s bad for a judge, think about a deputy sheriff.”
“Oh, well. She’ll probably be back before anybody wants anything.”
We stood there by the Dozer and watched as the man went over, pulled some keys from his pocket, and began unlocking the flaps. One part folded down to reveal the words POLLY’S PLATE PITCH in bright red letters. The other part folded up and locked into place. It was lined with small multicolored lights that began chasing themselves as soon as he flipped a switch. Stacks of shiny plates in all colors and sizes gleamed beneath the lights. The game is a simple one: You just toss a quarter onto any plate. If it stays in the plate, then you could win one of the large stuffed animals dangling from a rod in the back. After surfing some of the carnival sites on the web yesterday morning, I had learned that the harder it is to win, the bigger and nicer the prizes.
