Burial At Sea

No one had the first idea where Willie Foot had found the mannequin.

One fine summer morning, he came limping down the driveway with a panama hat perched on his wild hair, two shades of blue that particular day, and the thing tucked under his arm. Oh, dear, I heard my grandmother say with an audible sigh, This isn't going to be a good news day. Willie stopped at the back door, tipped his hat to each of the dogs, then peered through the screen with a manic grin and with his free hand, offered Nana a handful of rocks. She accepted them and managed a small smile, then handed him a paper plate of biscuits with strawberry jam. He gently propped the mannequin against the woodbox - she was an unlikely combination of movable plastic parts with one arm chopped off at the elbow and what looked like a mop head of blondish dirty curls fastened on with a shoelace - and did a quick dance, his signature thank you. Go on with you now, my grandmother said, not unkindly, and he carefully folded the paper plate, put it into one torn jacket pocket and began two stepping away, leaving the mannequin behind. Willie! she called sharply, Take your friend! For a moment he looked surprised then he backtracked and bent down, snatched the mannequin by one ankle and disappeared around the corner and down the front path. Oh, dear, Nana said again.

Predictably, this was only the first of many appearances of the mannequin, who Sparrow was to nickname Marilyn

Monroe. Trudging out to bring in the wash later than very morning, Miss Mary was bewildered to find a pair of flannel long johns missing, she was sure she'd hung three sets - simultaneously, John Sullivan and his brother, drinking their morning coffee, noticed what they thought was an underwear clad body washed up against the breakwater. They rushed into the tide like madmen only to discover the mannequin and were heard cussing up a storm all the way to the canteen. Marilyn was undamaged and tossed disgustedly back into the water, where she was later hooked by an unsuspecting Uncle Shad who shrieked bloody murder before realizing what he'd snagged and sliced his line with an enviably colorful stream of profanity. The end came on a late night when Old Hat and Aunt Glad were finishing up a jug and Hattie, shotgun across her lap, saw a shadow moving along the fence line - Why, Sparrow was overheard to tell Cap the following day, She liked to take Willie's head clean off with one shot and that mannequin thing was blown to kingdom come! Willie had given a wail of terror then jumped into the ditch and run for his life, eluding Hattie with a unexpected detour down the wharf and a less than wise leap into the cold ocean - Cap and Sparrow had fished him out with a grappling hook, blue-ish and muttering, one hand gripping the remains of a panama hat, the other clutching a mop head of seaweed covered dirty blonde curls.

A few days later, when Old Hat made her weekly trip to the post office, Marilyn's pieces were discreetly collected, placed in one of Aunt Flo's picnic baskets, and left - hurriedly and under cover of darkness - at Willie's front door.

That fall, Uncle Shad wrote my grandmother about a slightly bizarre burial at sea where several island children and Willie had rowed into the outgoing tide and solemnly thrown the mannequin's remains into the waves while John Sullivan waited on shore with his accordion around his neck, playing a country-ish version of "I'll Fly Away".

Oh, dear, Nana said and laughed until she cried.