The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion Read Online Free PDF Page B

blue jays off. But she didn’t want to get reported to the humane society for crueltyto animals, especially since she was on the board. Oh, God, the phone was still ringing off the hook. Whoever it was must have her on some computer redial. Between the blue jays and the phone, she was getting a headache, so she went in and picked it up.
    “Hello!”
    The person on the other end seemed surprised that someone had finally answered and said, “Oh, hello! Ahh … to whom am I speaking, please?”
    “Well, whom were you trying to reach?” asked Sookie, as she saw three more blue jays swoop in.
    “I’m trying to locate a Mrs. Earle Poole, Jr.”
    “Yes, this is she.” As soon as she said it, she knew she had made a mistake. She should have pretended she was the maid and said Mrs. Poole wasn’t home. She was stuck now. As she stood watching more and more blue jays show up at the little birds’ feeder, she suddenly remembered that old BB gun of Carter’s in the closet and wondered if she could fire off just a few warning shots from the porch without being seen.
    The man on the phone was asking another question. “Are you the former Sarah Jane Krackenberry?”
    “Yes, I was … am.” Sookie realized that the idea that she would even think about shooting a gun at a helpless bird was not her normal way of thinking, but those blue jays made her so mad—the way they pushed the smaller ones around.
    “Was your mother’s maiden name Simmons, middle name Marion, first name Lenore?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “Did your family live in Brownsville, Texas, from the years 1942 to 1945?”
    “Yes, uh-huh.”
    “Is the current mailing address for Mrs. Lenore Simmons Krackenberry 526 Bay Street, Point Clear, Alabama?”
    “Yes, all her mail and bills are sent to me.” Sookie was still thinking whether or not she should get Carter’s old BB gun and try and scare the blue jays away, but decided not to. If she were to accidentally hit one, she would never be able to forgive herself.
    “Is your zip code 36564?”
    Peek-a-Boo walked over and rubbed up against her leg. Then it suddenly occurred to her: Maybe Peek-a-Boo would like a big fat blue jay for breakfast. She could let her out. But on the other hand, if Peek-a-Boo ran away and anything happened to her, Ce Ce would have a fit.
    “Ma’am? Are you still there?”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, what was it?”
    “Is your current zip code 36564?”
    “Uh, yes. That’s correct. You have to forgive me. I’m a little distracted. I’m having a little bird problem at the moment.” Sookie sat down, held the phone against her ear, and retied her pink sneaker. She felt a dull pain start up in her right ankle. Oh, no. She knew as soon as she had stepped in that gopher hole, she had twisted something. She just hoped it wasn’t sprained. She needed to put ice on it right away, before it could swell up, and she also had to get the man off the phone, but in a nice way. “Sir, I’m so sorry, but I think I’ve sprained my ankle, so I’m going to have to hang up now.”
    “I see … uh … Mrs. Poole, one more thing before you go. Will you be home tomorrow between ten A . M . and twelve P . M .?”
    “Pardon me?”
    “Will you be at this address tomorrow?”
    “Yes, I guess so. I might go to the travel agency later. Why?”
    “We are sending a letter to Mrs. Lenore Simmons Krackenberry—and we need to know if you will be home to sign for it.”
    It suddenly occurred to Sookie that this was certainly a weird call. Why did this man want to know where she would be tomorrow and at what time? She began to get a little suspicious and wondered if he might be some sex pervert or a burglar. So she quickly said, “Yes, I will be home, and so will my husband, the police chief. May I ask where you are calling from?”
    “I’m calling from Texas, ma’am.”
    “Texas? Where in Texas?”
    “I’m in the Austin area.”
    “Austin, Texas?”
    “Yes, ma’am. And Mrs. Poole, the