“I
decided,” she said happily, “it was time for a change.
The last compliment I received on my old outfit was from Cotton
and you know how long ago that was.”
Bertha didn’t voice it, but instantly thought that she was
right. Aggie hadn’t worn anything but her black outfit for
ages and as sweet as she is, there were times when standing downwind
of her could be somewhat unpleasant.
“Come,” Aggie urged. “We have no time to waste.
I’ve already made the calls to our friends and they are
coming two days from now on the evening of the thirty-first. The
big night.”
Bertha’s excitement was obviously showing more and more,
prompting Aggie to take her by the hand and patting it gently,
she said, “ Calm, darling, your presence and help is needed
now more than ever. I simply can’t do it all by myself.”
Their first stop was at the shop of a man who was the fourth generation
supplier of most of their needs. His name was Augustin and he
was waiting at the door for them.
“Ah,” he cried, smiling broadly. “Two of my
dearest and most charming friends. Do come in. Come in.”
He stood aside and bowing at the waist, swung his arm toward his
entry hall. Augustin was always, as was his father and his grandfather
before him, very gallant and not at all like the characters that
the mind conjured up when picturing men of their ilk.
Aggie and Bertha paraded past him through his shop, and sprightly
made their way down the narrow hallway and into his living quarters.
Wasting no time, Aggie turned and faced him as he made his entry
and fixing him with a stare the majority of her friends believe
she had acquired from Medusa, she said, “You are prepared
to provide our things, or you not?”
His smile faded a trace and his features, hardened over the years,
seemed to darken. He almost cringed as he lowered his head and
answered.
“If not on hand, dear lady, I can surely get whatever it
is you need.”
“Outstanding,” said Aggie and placing a hand on his
shoulder, she produced a list. Augustin took the list from her
and with a smile began to read, mouthing a word or two every other
breath.
“Livers and hearts,” he paused.
“Kidneys,” he paused again.
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