"Lucky for Cousin Garnet she's crippled, so they can't whip 'er and they never make 'er do a single chore. She said she left Thumbelina-the-whore lookin' like a baby-doll after some youngun's done playin' with it, an' she went around like that all week, like 'a mouse after it chews it's hand off to get out o' your trap, an' then sits between you an' the t.v. showin' you 'is bloody little stump like you're gonna feel sorry for 'im. Cousin Garnet was thoroughly disgusted."
Motsie had hopped out of some random car she'd hitched a ride from, and caught up with Vincent and Martin a block before secret place they called the Bamboo. The boys were walking their bikes and had a new girl with them who brought a little tow-headed harelip boy. Motsie didn't shut up for a whole minute put together while they all headed around the curve to the path down into the garden.
'So, they'd ha' been in Cousin Garnet's room, gettin' Thumbellina-the-whore all stoned on Henderson's closet stash, which she brought me some today, by he way, and they had some saltines and peanut butter ready in advance for munchies. One o' those Taint girls kinda accidentally on purpose smeared a peanut butter cracker on Thumbellina's hair, knowin' she'd wouldn't dare bathe in that claw foot tub with a drowned ghost. They had put the supposed dry shampoo and pretend leave-in conditioner right on the dressin' table."
The path down the hill was unplanned, like a deer-path, and cut through rhododendron on a steep bank with no other stairs than jutting roots. Lindsey, the new girl Vincent had invited, made sure the little hair-lip didn't trip or get a branch-slap in his pitiful face. Vincent came last while Motsie led the line and Martin stayed right behind her to hear all this juicy story.
"Were they all gonna sleep together? All those girls? In the same bed? Or with sleepin' bags like scout camp?" Martin was very detail oriented.
"Let's not talk about scout camp, Martin. Y'know?" Vincent began to sound nervous.
"What, Vincent? What's wrong with scout camp?" Lindsey was still naive.
"Oh, nothing, we were working on that outdoor survival merit badge, and," Martin redirected towards a near taunt, "Vincent had a nasty poison ivy experience."
"Lay off it, Martin, or I'll tell about that contest you won." Vincent's face turned red, probably with anger.
Martin whipped around and glared at Vincent, "At least I didn't have to be taken home."
"You got poison ivy that bad? Lindsey tried to appear solicitous.
"We had to pull a bunch up where we were pitchin' our tents. Martin, I'm gonna kill you."
"Everybody else's was limited to their hands, but Vincent...."
Vincent interrupted Martin "That's it. Martin's tent buddies all had a race to see who could..."
Martin interrupted Vincent, "So Motsie, you were tellin' about your cousin's bedroom, go on, go on!"
The path opened into the garden by a horse-shoe shaped gazebo covered in climbing roses, and at the center was a big fountain in a pool of goldfish and pennies. Motsie led the way to the edge and stepped into the water while Martin took his shoes off and did the same thing.
"Oh, yeah!" Motsie found her place and went on. "So on top o' havin' eight chimneys full o' bats, their house is even haunted. It's on the list of haunted houses in Benvenue an' everything. Cousin Henderson sleeps at the top o' the staircase, and he says he hears footsteps comin' up every night, eighteen steps, and a couple o' times he peeked out 'is door an' saw this red-haired lady comin' up completely nekked, an' followed 'er all the way to the bathroom door. Sometimes if they go in the bathroom at night, she's layin' there in the tub full o' water, with her hair floatin' all around her face. Anybody'd love to have a slumber partty there, but still, I mean, there were Taints involved, for Pete's sake.
"Huhu always said never associate with a Taint, 'cause it'd be like committin' social suicide, and these girls are pure tea Taints through 'n through! So all's I can say is, Thumbellina-the-whore must be some real trash to take up any invitation from a Taint, is all I can say."
"Just sayin'," Martin said, smiling.
"They really were the grossest two little girls I've ever seen" was Vincent's opinion. "Motsie's cousin said they hafta share a toothbrush, but they don't want to mess it up by usin' it too much 'cause their dad might beat up if he has to spend 'is likker money on a new one."
"Gee, Vincent, I bet you were wishin' you'd let Mr. Whacker drive you down to Cottondale when he drove me home, instead o' havin' to be around that, right?" Lindsey's desperate attempt was lost only on Vincent, and Martin stayed Motsie's hand from pulling the bowie knife from under her skirt.
"Oh I'd love to go see Cottondale, Lindsey, but we had an exciting time in the cemetery up there with Motsie's Cousin Garnet. They tell each other the biggest lies, like Garnet actually believes that Motsie and Martin went down to..."
Now it was Motsie's turn to interrupt, "went down to the Cow and got Thunderbird wine when we were only nine, haha, big deal. So anyway, Cousin Garnet said they all fell asleep on her featherbed, and along about sunrise Thumbellina scared the wits outa them screamin', 'cause they'd sorta forgotten about it while they were sleepin' like innocent little angels. Some o' her hair was still attached, but it looked all gummy, and most of it was stuck to the pillow, and half o' Thumbellina's face was peeled off, raw."
Motsie had opened a velvet pouch that hung from a thong around her neck, pulled out an EZ Wider and a hairy red bud without seeds. She had everyone's undivided attention as she twisted up a fatty one-handed and stuck it all the way in her mouth to seal the deal.
"Let's head into the Bamboo, y'all." And with that, she nudged Martin's foot out of the fountain with hers, and he led the parade back up the bank into a thick swarm of healthy green bamboo, impenetrable from the road above where they'd all met up.
"I can't believe the girl didn't at least cut the long part to match the short part. Aren't there any beauty shops in Benvenue?" Vincent was incredulous.
"Well," Motsie finished up just before entering the clearing, "Cousin Garnet said she went around like that all week, but on Sunday she was singin' her damn solo at the First Baptist, wearin' her mama's big ol' Eva Gabor beehive wig."
"Wow, Cousin Motsie!" Martin was clearly impressed. "I sure wouldn't mind goin' up to that reunion sometime, or at least to Benvenue, and get a look at some o' those people."
"Well, that's not gonna happen, Martin. Your branch o' the tree has been severed."
"Oh, maybe somebody back there on your side chewed it off to escape, Martin" And that was the surprise quip out of Lindsey's mouth!
Everybody except Motsie had a good laugh, and then Martin halted in his tracks, turned on the ball of his muddy foot, ran right by Motsie and the others in a pale panic. Motsie was next to reach the clearing, and abruptly did the same, followed by Lindsey and the hair-lip boy. Some guy had been squatting in the back of the bamboo clearing with one arm drawn across the lower half of his face like the masked marauder, pants down around his ankles and his other hand jerking on his business. Only Vincent dawdled at the edge of the clearing, and called to them over his shoulder, "What? I mean wait!" But it took him a minute to reach the rose beds where the others were sitting, bent over laughing into the fountain.
