color and fabric.”
“No, you’re not,” Judith acknowledged, “but it
would have taken twice as long with two of us. Time is
of the essence. Besides, I want to tell you about some
weird things that have been happening. Let’s drive to
Moonbeam’s, where we won’t be overheard by my
very peculiar guests.”
Moonbeam’s, however, was jammed and there were
no empty parking spots. On the Saturday before Halloween, the Heraldsgate Hill merchants had opened
their doors to all the trick-or-treaters in the area.
“I could have told you that,” Renie grumbled.
“While I was wasting away in the car, I counted eight
Harry Potters, four bunny rabbits, six fairy princesses,
three crocodiles, and two skunks. Not to mention assorted ghosts, witches, and skeletons. This part of the
avenue is a zoo—almost literally.”
Judith, who was stalled at the four-way stop between Moonbeam’s and Holliday’s Pharmacy, watched
the passing parade in awe. Not only were the children—from infants to teenagers—in costume, but so
were many of the parents. Adults dressed as prima ballerinas, football players, sheikhs, African warriors, Argentine gauchos, and a very realistic-looking gorilla
were strolling the sidewalks and filling the crosswalks
along with their offspring.
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Mary Daheim
“I forgot about all this,” Judith said. “They only
started doing it a couple of years ago. I guess I’ve been
too caught up with my guests to think much about Halloween.”
“You’d better have treats in store for tonight,” Renie
said. “I understand some of the kids will be going out
a day early because Sunday is a school night.”
“I bought all my candy a week or so ago,” Judith
replied. “Hey, where are we headed?”
“Let’s go down to the bottom of the hill,” Renie suggested. “I haven’t had lunch. How about you?”
“I forgot about lunch,” Judith admitted. “Okay, I’ll
turn off by M&M Meats and we’ll take the back way
out of here.”
Ten minutes later, the cousins were sitting in a
wooden booth at T. S. McSnort’s. Even there a handful
of customers were dressed for the holiday.
“Would it be terrible to have a drink?” Judith asked.
“I could use one.”
“So could I,” Renie responded. “It’s been a rough
outing at our house the past few hours.”
The cousins ordered screwdrivers, telling themselves that the orange juice would provide them with a
healthy dose of vitamin C. To Judith’s surprise, Renie
didn’t even bother to study the menu.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Judith asked. Renie was always hungry. Her metabolism could have permitted
her to gobble up at least two aisles of Falstaff’s Grocery in a single day.
Renie shook her head. “I’ve lost my appetite. Besides, Bill and I can’t afford food anymore. We have to
pay for all of Anne’s wedding and pony up for our
share of Tom and Tony’s. Are you forgetting how
SILVER SCREAM
77
Kristin’s parents tried to fleece you and Joe when Mike
got married?”
Judith hadn’t forgotten, but as usual, she tried to be
charitable. “I think it was mostly a misunderstanding.”
“Ha.” Renie looked up as their waitress brought the
drinks and asked if they wished to order their meal.
“I’m having just a cup of clam chowder,” Renie said.
Judith quickly perused the menu. “That sounds
good. Your chowder is so delicious. I’ll have the small
Caesar with it.”
Renie looked at the waitress again. “Yes, I should
eat some greens. I’ll have the Caesar, too. You can put
smoked prawns on it along with the anchovies. Oh, and
maybe I’ll make that a bowl of chowder.”
The curly-haired waitress smiled. “Got it. Anything
else?”
Judith shook her head, but Renie held up a hand.
“How about the lox platter with the thin slices of rye
and onion and cream cheese and capers? That should
give me some strength.”
“Gee,” Judith said as the waitress trotted off, “I’m
glad you’re not hungry.”
“I’m not.” Renie sighed. “But I can’t allow myself
to become frail. Now tell me what’s going on at the
B&B.”
Judith complied, relating the rubber-spider incident
as well as the quarrel between Dade Costello and
Chips Madigan.
“Chips?” Renie said. “He doesn’t seem like a
fighter.”
“He’s tougher than he looks,” Judith said. “He has
to be, to deal with all those inflated egos when he’s directing a movie.”
78
Mary Daheim
Renie tipped her head to one side in a gesture of assent. “Could you catch any of the exchange between
Chips and Dade?”
“Not much,” Judith admitted. “It sounded as if they
might be arguing about the script. They disagreed
about something or other. Maybe interpretation?
Would that make sense?”
“Yes,” Renie said slowly, “it could. Dade told me
The Gasman is based on a novel.”
“He told me the same thing.” Judith paused as the
salads arrived and the waitress sprinkled black pepper
over them. “Have you ever heard of it?”
“No,” Renie replied, attacking a plump pink prawn.
“I got the impression it was published years ago.”
“The concept for the movie sounds kind of weird,”
Judith said, “though I’m no film expert.”
Renie nodded. “I thought so, too. But I guess we’d
have to see it first. Bruno Zepf is a remarkable filmmaker. Remember his last movie, They All Had In-
fluenza?”
“I remember when it came out,” Judith said, savoring the tangy dressing on her salad. “But I didn’t see
it.”
“Neither did I,” Renie responded, buttering a slice
of Irish soda bread. “I heard it was a big hit, though,
and I think the critics liked it. It was about the terrible
flu epidemic of 1918, with imagery of the Black
Death. Or so Bill told me. He watched it on video one
night while I was at a baby shower for one of Anne’s
girlfriends.” Renie’s face fell. “Oh, gosh—do you suppose I’ll end up being a grandmother after all?”
“Why so glum?” Judith queried as the rest of their
order arrived. “I thought you envied my status.”
SILVER SCREAM
79
“I did. I do.” Renie sprinkled salt and pepper on her
bowl of chowder, then broke up a handful of water
crackers. “It’s just that . . . it’s kind of a shock somehow. All of this is a shock,” she said, dumping the
crackers into the chowder. “What if our kids all get
married at once?”
“That would save money,” Judith said dryly.
Renie brightened. “That’s a great idea. It would cut
down on arrangements, too. Anne’s already talking
about where she wants to have the reception.”
“Are you going to suggest a triple wedding?” Judith
asked.
Renie grimaced. “It sounds a little like the Reverend
Moon extravaganzas. I don’t know that the kids would
go for it.”
“It’s an idea,” Judith said as a familiar figure at the
bar caught her eye. “Hey—coz,” she said in a whisper,