"Miss Myra's dead. Hey! Hey Mister, Miss Myra's dead!"

Wouldn't you know. All the time I've been living next to Miss Myra, she never got visited by more than two people, the doctor and her sister, Ella Louise. She died yesterday afternoon and today everybody in town has been by to see her. It's kinda funny, too, that everyone is bringing her flowers. She liked flowers; I guess that why. Sometimes I'd see her working all afternoon in her garden, just a watering and a talking, watering and talking. Yesterday I went over and there she was on the porch plantin' African violets. She was so happy, even though she knew she was going to die. She knew, too, 'cause every time she'd light up a cigarette she'd say, "I swear, I'm blowing my soul closer to Heaven every time I do that." I liked Miss Myra. All the time she was laughin' and talkin'. She didn't mind that I was just a little boy, either. She said she was just happy to have someone to talk to. That always made me feel older and so I tried to help out with the chores. Yesterday I asked if I could help her with the plantin'.

"No, Beau, it's an art planting these violets and, anyway, I'm almost finished."

"Aw, come on, Miss Myra, I'll be careful."

"No, not today Beau."

Miss Myra just sat and smoked and planted. When she finished, we went inside and drank some lemonade. I didn't care for it though. I think Miss Myra thought that all boys my age liked lots of sugar and so she'd load it down till you thought you were drinking sugar syrup. I'd take a drink of it anyways, but it was hard not to scruntch up my moth with there being so much sugar in it. After she'd poured the lemonade, we went into the living room. She always sat in the middle of the room. She said she could see me better that way. I didn't care none cause that always left the big quilt chair for me. I called it that because the cushions of the chair were ripped up so bad that a quilt had been put over them. I'd pile up in the chair and if it wasn't comfortable, all you had to do was reach under the cover and rearrange the cotton in the cushion. I always had to push the cotton around some, so by the time I had everything just right, I turned around and Miss Myra was asleep.

"Miss Myra, Miss Myra!"

"Uh...huh...What did you say, Beau?"

"Miss Myra, are you old?"

"You know I am. Now, why'd you ask that for, Beau?"

"Well, will I shrink up inside when I get old?"

"What?"

"You know...your skin is too big for you. Will I get that way someday?"

"Ha! No, no, not if you don't drink too much water!"

Miss Myra just laughed and laughed. I laughed, too, even though I didn't think it was so all fired funny. I stopped, though, when all of a sudden Miss Myra, in laughing so hard, caused something to fall out of her blouse pocket. It looked like some kind of metal attached to a chain around her neck.

What's that, Miss Myra?"

"What?"

"That thing around your neck."

"You mean this locket?"

"Yeah, what's it for?"

"Oh, its....its....for life."

"Aw, come on, Mother got one. Not that big, but it's got a picture of Daddy in it. Does yours have a picture of your daddy in it?"

"No"

"It's old, isn't it?"

"Yes"

"I knew 'cause it's goldish, greenish, blackish, and a lot of old things get like that." "Can I see it?"

"No Beau, I never take it off."

"Well, I wouldn't break it. I just want to play hypnotist with it like that count on the radio. Do you ever listen to him? He goes, "You're going to sleep, sleep, sleep,," just like that. Mother says he has this thing on a chain that he twirls around to make you sleep. It's really a good show. This count has a real spooky voice....Miss Myra, Miss Myra!"

Huh....what did you say? Mercy, I am sorry, Beau, musta fallen asleep."

"Nothing, Miss Myra."

After that we talked and I would watch her rock and finally she fell asleep again. The sun came through the faded curtains making the locket glitter and the light dance on the floor and ceiling. I just sat there staring at her. I was thinking that maybe the count could hypnotize Miss Myra and tell her to cut down on the sugar in her lemonade. I was about half finished with mine when I looked up to the sound of her snoring. She snored real nice, I though, like the wind sounds blowing through the salt cedars. I felt kinda funny watching her, but I couldn't leave. I got to thinking about the count again. If I got the locket and just borrowed it to play hypnotist....I'll bring it back tomorrow.

"Hey, People, Miss Myra's Dead! Sis, come out here! I'm tired of watching Miss Myra's company. Want to play hypnotist? Sis, come on out here!"

"Beau Crustead, where did you get that?"

"Oh, it was Miss Myra's. I borrowed it yesterday while she was asleep."

"You had better take it back or Mother is going to get you."

"But Miss Myra's dead...she don't need it anymore. Anyways, look at the rainbow on the floor when I whirl it. See, see...just like....oops!"

"Looka there, Beau, you've gone and broke it!"

"Well, it was old. Look...the locket even came off the chain."

"I'm telling, Mother."

"No, wait! I'll take it back and say Miss Myra gave it to me to fix. Okay?"

"Well....okay."

I hate to go over with all those people there. Maybe I'll just go to the door and leave the locket on the step or something.

Uh oh, the front doors are open. They'll see me 'cause I can hear them just on the other side.

"What can I say Ella. We are all so sorry. We didn't even know she was sick. If there's anything we can do, just ask."

"Thank you, but I'll be fine. Myra didn't want anyone to know about her heart. In fact, she got her pills out of town so no one would think....."

Hmmm, I guess I just better throw it on the porch. That will take care of it. Someone will find it and think it had just fallen there. They will never know I took it. Better take these pills out of the locket first, though. Miss Myra sure was funny. Who ever heard of putting pills in a neck locket?

Kent Speer

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