Beautiful Creatures
Page 107
“As I have explained, Mr. Ravenwood, we do have grounds, and we are well within our power to expel your niece.”
Mrs. Lincoln jumped to her feet. “You can’t just show up here out a the blue, interferin’ with town business. You haven’t left your house in years! What gives you the right to have a say in what happens in this town, or with our children?”
“Are you referring to your little collection of marionettes, dressed like, what is it—unicorns? You’ll have to forgive my poor eyesight.” Macon gestured toward the Angels.
“They are angels, Mr. Ravenwood, not unicorns. Not that I expect you to recognize Our Lord’s messengers, since I don’t ever recall seein’ you in church.”
“‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,’ Mrs. Lincoln.” Macon paused for a second, as if he thought Mrs. Lincoln might need a moment or two to get her mind around that.
“As for your original point, you’re absolutely right, Mrs. Lincoln. I spend a great deal of time in my house, which I don’t mind. It’s an enchanting place, really. But perhaps I should spend more time in town, spend some more time with all of you. Shake things up a bit, for lack of a better expression.”
Mrs. Lincoln looked horrified, and the DAR members were turning around in their seats, looking at one another nervously at the thought of it.
“In fact, if Lena will not be returning to Jackson, she will have to be home schooled. Perhaps I should invite a few of her cousins to stay with me, as well. I wouldn’t want her to miss out on the social aspect of her education. Some of her cousins are quite captivating. In fact, I believe you met one of them at your little Midwinter’s Eve Masquerade Ball.”
“It wasn’t a masquerade ball—”
“My apologies. I only assumed those dresses were costumes, based on the garish nature of the plumage.”
Mrs. Lincoln reddened. She was no longer just a woman trying to ban books. This was not a woman to be messed with. I was worried for Macon. I was worried for all of us.
“Let’s be honest, Mr. Ravenwood. You have no place in this town. You are not part of it and clearly, neither is your niece. I don’t think you are in any position to make demands.”
Macon’s expression changed slightly. He turned his ring around on his finger. “Mrs. Lincoln, I appreciate your candor, and I will try to be as frank with you as you have been with me. It would be a grave error for you, for anyone in this town, really, to pursue this matter. You see, I have a great deal of means. I’m a bit of a spendthrift, if you will. If you try to prevent my niece from returning to Stonewall Jackson High School, I will be forced to spend some of that money. Who knows, perhaps I’ll bring in a Wal-Mart.” There was another gasp from the bleachers.
“Is that a threat?”
“Not at all. Quite coincidentally, I also own the land upon which the Southern Comfort Hotel resides. Its closure would be most inconvenient for you, Mrs. Snow, as your husband would have to drive a great deal farther to meet his lady friends, which I’m sure would make him late for supper on a regular basis. Now we couldn’t have that, could we?”
Mr. Snow turned beet red and scrunched down behind a couple of guys on the football team, but Macon was just getting started. “And Mr. Hollingsworth, you look very familiar, sir. As does that striking Confederate flower to your left.” Macon gestured to the lady from the School Board sitting next to him. “Haven’t I seen you two somewhere before? I could swear—”
Mr. Hollingsworth swayed a little. “Absolutely not, Mr. Ravenwood. I am a married man!”
Macon turned his attention to the balding man sitting on the other side of Mr. Hollingsworth. “And Mr. Ebitt, if I decide to stop leasing the land to the Wayward Dog, where will you spend the evenings drinking, when your wife thinks you’re studying at the Good Book Bible Group?”
“Wilson, how could you! To use Our Lord Almighty as an alibi. You will burn in the fires of Hell, sure as I’m standin’ here!” Mrs. Ebitt collected her purse and started to push her way toward the aisle.
“It’s not true, Rosalie!”
“Isn’t it, though?” Macon smiled. “I can’t even imagine what Boo here would tell me if he could talk. You know, he’s been in and out of every yard and parking lot in your fair town, and I’ll bet he’s seen a thing or two.” I stifled a laugh.
Boo’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and more than a few people started to squirm in their seats, as if Boo might open his mouth and start talking. After Halloween night, it wouldn’t have surprised me, and considering Macon Ravenwood’s reputation, nobody in Gatlin would have been too shocked, either.
“As you can see, there are more than a few people in this town who are less than honest. So you can imagine my concern when I learned that four teenage girls are the only witnesses to these scathing accusations made against my own family. Wouldn’t it be in all of our interests to drop this matter? Wouldn’t it be the gentlemanly thing to do, sir?”
Mr. Hollingsworth looked like he was going to be sick, and the woman next to him looked like she was hoping she’d get sucked down into the ground. Mr. Ebitt, whose name I realized was never mentioned before Macon said it, had already left, chasing after his wife. The remaining members of the tribunal looked scared to death, as if any minute now, Macon Ravenwood, or his dog, might start telling the whole town their dirty little secrets.
Mrs. Lincoln jumped to her feet. “You can’t just show up here out a the blue, interferin’ with town business. You haven’t left your house in years! What gives you the right to have a say in what happens in this town, or with our children?”
“Are you referring to your little collection of marionettes, dressed like, what is it—unicorns? You’ll have to forgive my poor eyesight.” Macon gestured toward the Angels.
“They are angels, Mr. Ravenwood, not unicorns. Not that I expect you to recognize Our Lord’s messengers, since I don’t ever recall seein’ you in church.”
“‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,’ Mrs. Lincoln.” Macon paused for a second, as if he thought Mrs. Lincoln might need a moment or two to get her mind around that.
“As for your original point, you’re absolutely right, Mrs. Lincoln. I spend a great deal of time in my house, which I don’t mind. It’s an enchanting place, really. But perhaps I should spend more time in town, spend some more time with all of you. Shake things up a bit, for lack of a better expression.”
Mrs. Lincoln looked horrified, and the DAR members were turning around in their seats, looking at one another nervously at the thought of it.
“In fact, if Lena will not be returning to Jackson, she will have to be home schooled. Perhaps I should invite a few of her cousins to stay with me, as well. I wouldn’t want her to miss out on the social aspect of her education. Some of her cousins are quite captivating. In fact, I believe you met one of them at your little Midwinter’s Eve Masquerade Ball.”
“It wasn’t a masquerade ball—”
“My apologies. I only assumed those dresses were costumes, based on the garish nature of the plumage.”
Mrs. Lincoln reddened. She was no longer just a woman trying to ban books. This was not a woman to be messed with. I was worried for Macon. I was worried for all of us.
“Let’s be honest, Mr. Ravenwood. You have no place in this town. You are not part of it and clearly, neither is your niece. I don’t think you are in any position to make demands.”
Macon’s expression changed slightly. He turned his ring around on his finger. “Mrs. Lincoln, I appreciate your candor, and I will try to be as frank with you as you have been with me. It would be a grave error for you, for anyone in this town, really, to pursue this matter. You see, I have a great deal of means. I’m a bit of a spendthrift, if you will. If you try to prevent my niece from returning to Stonewall Jackson High School, I will be forced to spend some of that money. Who knows, perhaps I’ll bring in a Wal-Mart.” There was another gasp from the bleachers.
“Is that a threat?”
“Not at all. Quite coincidentally, I also own the land upon which the Southern Comfort Hotel resides. Its closure would be most inconvenient for you, Mrs. Snow, as your husband would have to drive a great deal farther to meet his lady friends, which I’m sure would make him late for supper on a regular basis. Now we couldn’t have that, could we?”
Mr. Snow turned beet red and scrunched down behind a couple of guys on the football team, but Macon was just getting started. “And Mr. Hollingsworth, you look very familiar, sir. As does that striking Confederate flower to your left.” Macon gestured to the lady from the School Board sitting next to him. “Haven’t I seen you two somewhere before? I could swear—”
Mr. Hollingsworth swayed a little. “Absolutely not, Mr. Ravenwood. I am a married man!”
Macon turned his attention to the balding man sitting on the other side of Mr. Hollingsworth. “And Mr. Ebitt, if I decide to stop leasing the land to the Wayward Dog, where will you spend the evenings drinking, when your wife thinks you’re studying at the Good Book Bible Group?”
“Wilson, how could you! To use Our Lord Almighty as an alibi. You will burn in the fires of Hell, sure as I’m standin’ here!” Mrs. Ebitt collected her purse and started to push her way toward the aisle.
“It’s not true, Rosalie!”
“Isn’t it, though?” Macon smiled. “I can’t even imagine what Boo here would tell me if he could talk. You know, he’s been in and out of every yard and parking lot in your fair town, and I’ll bet he’s seen a thing or two.” I stifled a laugh.
Boo’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and more than a few people started to squirm in their seats, as if Boo might open his mouth and start talking. After Halloween night, it wouldn’t have surprised me, and considering Macon Ravenwood’s reputation, nobody in Gatlin would have been too shocked, either.
“As you can see, there are more than a few people in this town who are less than honest. So you can imagine my concern when I learned that four teenage girls are the only witnesses to these scathing accusations made against my own family. Wouldn’t it be in all of our interests to drop this matter? Wouldn’t it be the gentlemanly thing to do, sir?”
Mr. Hollingsworth looked like he was going to be sick, and the woman next to him looked like she was hoping she’d get sucked down into the ground. Mr. Ebitt, whose name I realized was never mentioned before Macon said it, had already left, chasing after his wife. The remaining members of the tribunal looked scared to death, as if any minute now, Macon Ravenwood, or his dog, might start telling the whole town their dirty little secrets.
