Cross Talk & Brandywine

Ruthie and I, playing jacks in one end of the sunporch where the linoleum was slick and easy on the knuckles and we weren't in the way, listened closely to the conversation from the other end where my grandmother and her cronies were playing bridge and hotly contesting the most recent bid.

Six spades! Nana had cried in alarm, Damn, Vi, have you been sippin' from the cider barrel again?

We can make it, Alice, Aunt Vi protested but weakly, I've been practicin'!

Aunt Pearl laughed softly at this and Nana snapped off her glasses and gave her a glare.

No cross talk,  Miss Clara admonished them mildly, neatly laying down her hand and reaching for the pitcher of iced coffee, Let's remember, we're all ladies here.  She poured, drank, wrinkled her nose.  

Alice, haven't you got.....

You know where it is, Nana said absently then groaned when Aunt Pearl easily took the first four tricks.  Clara adjusted one errant row of playing cards, earning a distracted slap on the wrist from my grandmother, then briefly left and returned with a slim, half full bottle of Canadian Gold.  She delicately added a capful to her coffee, re-took her seat and leaned back with a contented sigh. 

Traffic was light on The Point that afternoon but each passing car got its full share of attention.  All four ladies turned at the sound of an engine - identifying the vehicle and often adding an editorial comment - then returned to the game.

There goes Lenny Smallwood, Miss Clara remarked as a dusty old pickup chugged its way past, Man doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground but he sure can grow sweet corn.

Heard tell that Lily's expectin' again, Aunt Pearl mused, You'd think that field would be barren by now.

I heard tell it mightn't be Lenny's, Aunt Vi said in a low voice, That's why he's drinkin' again.  

Speakin' of which, she added with a blush that went all the way from her throat to hairline, Gloria Grace is home again.  They say she give it up.

That'd be three, my grandmother said with a bitter smile, You'd think she learn a thing or two.

Walter says he's gon' tie her ankles together if she can't keep her legs closed, Pearl remarked, Just like calf ropin'.

Don't be vulgar, Clara said, That's insultin' the calves.  All four women howled with laughter.

There was a screech of brakes and a rusted, two tone Chevy came round the corner.  For a fraction of a second it was on two wheels - paralyzingly close to the battered guard rail - then it bounced back and straightened out, speeding past in a storm of dust and sprayed gravel.

Those Sullivan boys, Aunt Pearl sighed, Ain't one of 'em don't drive like a bat outta hell.

Gon' miss that turn one of these days, Clara agreed, They'll be scrapin' him off the rocks for days.

Ayuh, Nana said, ain't got the sense God gave a gull.

Aunt Pearl gave a sudden victory whoop and threw down a final card with a flourish that made my grandmother wince.  Thirteen tricks were neatly stacked in front of her.

Grand slam, Alice! she shouted in triumph, Pass that damn brandy!

Aunt Vi cringed in her seat.

So much for your practicin', Viola, Nana snapped, I declare you ought to stick to Parcheesi or Uncle Wiggily!

Clara patted Vi's arm gently and tsk'd in disapproval at my grandmother.  You'll do better next time, dear, she said, It's only a game.  Here, buck up and have some brandy.

Ferry's in, Vi muttered distractedly as a sudden flurry of traffic appeared on the road.  An oil tanker was first off, rumbling past with it's bright red ESSO sign shimmering in the afternoon light.  It was followed by a pick up truck, a renovated station wagon with wooden sides - trailing feathers - a gleaming green Volvo with New York plates, and lastly a low slung and new-ish black Ford with the familiar insignia of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police on the side.

Mounties! the ladies exclaimed almost in unison, the bridge game immediately forgotten as all four gathered at the windows like a gaggle of chattering birds.  They watched anxiously as the cruiser went slowly by and rather than take the curve and head up island, continued onto The Old Road toward the cove.  At the same time the telephone rang - as telephones would be ringing all over the village - Elsie's old switchboard lit up like a Christmas tree whenever the law arrived.  It was, Sparrow liked to say, the maritime equivalent of Paul Revere's ride, a veritable network of islanders banding together to warn the bootleggers and the unlicensed drivers of a possible intrusion.  Stills would be shutting down all over the island and the young boys in their boosted up, makeshift hot rods would be pulling into the nearest driveways.   Nothing bound the village so much as a little illegality.

Alright, girls, Nana announced, Elsie says it's just a routine visit.  Where were we?

We were cleanin' your clock, Alice, Aunt Pearl crowed, I don't wonder that you've forgotten!

Pearl, my grandmother said testily, just deal the damn cards.  Daylight's burnin'.

And it was.  The sky over Brier Island was deepening and beginning to turn pastel as we watched the ferry making its return trip.  The bridge game continued until supper was on the stove and the brandy bottle was dry.