Carnal Innocence

next block.”
    Della’s natural competitive instinct had her studying the boy. He was sweating freely, and she imagined his natty uniform was going to smell like wet goat beforethe day was up. But he looked hardy enough. “You’re on.”
    “I dearly love a parade.” Lulu tucked her zither behind her ear like a pencil so she could pour another drink. “Next to weddings, funerals, and poker games, I can’t think of anything more entertaining.”
    Della snorted and cooled her face with a palm-sized battery-operated fan. “You can have yourself a funeral tomorrow if you want. We’ve been having us a regular plague of funerals lately.” Sighing, Della helped herself to some of the contents of Lulu’s thermos. “I reckon this is the first time in fifteen years that Happy hasn’t marched on by with the Ladies Garden Club.”
    “Why ain’t she marching?”
    “Her daughter’s going in the ground tomorrow.”
    Lulu watched the pom-pom division of Jefferson Davis High shake by to the tune of “It’s a Grand Old Flag.”
    “A good, whopping funeral’ll set her to rights,” Lulu predicted. “What’re you making for after the burying?”
    “My coconut ambrosia.” Della shaded her eyes and grinned. “Why, look there, Cousin Lulu. Look at Carl Johnson’s baby twirl that baton. She’s a regular whirling dervish.”
    “She’s a pistol, all right.” Lulu enjoyed a cackle and another sip of julep. “You know, Della, life’s like one of them batons. You can spin it around your fingers if you’ve got the talent for it. You can toss it right up in the air and snatch it back if you’re quick. Or you can let it fly and conk somebody on the head.” She smiled and plucked the zither from behind her ear. “I do dearly love a parade.”
    From behind Lulu, Caroline thought over the analogy and shook her head. It made a spooky kind of sense. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever conked anyone on the head with the baton of life, but she’d certainly dropped it a few times. Right now she was doing her best to make it spin.
    “That there’s the Cotton Princess and her court,” Cy told Caroline. “The whole high school votes on herevery year. She was supposed to ride in back of Mr. Tucker’s car, but since it got banged up, they rented that convertible from Avis in Greenville.”
    “She’s lovely.” Caroline smiled at the girl in her puffy-sleeved white dress and sweat-sheened face.
    “She’s Kerry Sue Hardesty.” Watching her made Cy think of Kerry’s younger sister, LeeAnne. She of the soft, fascinating breasts. As the car cruised by, Cy scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse. He didn’t spot LeeAnne, but he did spot Jim, and waved desperately.
    “Why don’t you go over and see your friend, Cy? You can meet us at the car when the parade’s finished.”
    He yearned, but shook his head and stood firm. Mr. Tucker was counting on him to stay close to Miss Caroline. They’d had a real man-to-man talk about it. “No, ma’am. I’m fine right here. There’s Miss Josie and that FBI doctor. He’s got one of those lapel flowers that squirts water in your face. He sure is a caution.”
    “He certainly is.” Caroline was scanning the crowd herself. “I wonder what’s keeping Tucker.”
    “Nothing.” From behind, Tucker slipped his arms around her waist. “You didn’t think I’d miss watching a parade with a pretty woman, did you?”
    Content, she leaned back against him. “No.”
    “You want me to fetch you and Miss Caroline cold drinks, Mr. Tucker? I got pocket money.”
    “That’s all right, Cy. I think Cousin Lulu’s got what the doctor ordered in that jug down there.”
    Cy jumped forward to take the cup Lulu poured and pass it back. “That FBI man’s watching from in front of the sheriff’s office.”
    “So I see.” Tucker sipped, savored, and handed the cup to Caroline.
    Caroline took her first taste of mint julep and let it slide sweet down her throat. “He doesn’t look as though he thinks much of the parade.”
    “Looks more like he smells dead skunk,” Cy commented.
    “He just doesn’t understand.” Tucker kept one arm around Caroline’s waist, set his other hand on Cy’s shoulder. “Here comes Jed Larsson and his boys.”
    When the fife and drum corps led by Larsson marched by playing “Dixie,” the crowd roared. Those seated rose to their feet and cheered.
    Caroline smiled and laid her head on Tucker’s shoulder. She understood.
    The Fourth of July meant fried