Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 33, No. 1, January, 1988

Sunday Secrets by Ron Anderson

Fast Freddie was going to get either killed or hurt so badly he’d wish he was dead. He wasn’t in the least bit worried, the guy is oblivious to what’s going on around him.

It all started the first Sunday of last month when Reverend Jones made his monthly visit to Beal. He has four churches, two in South Carolina and two across the border in Georgia. I like to spend Sundays reading, working on my projects and experiments, but Granny usually manages to find me. I’m usually deep in concentration when she yells, “Get your four-eyed, buck-tooth, brown fanny to church! You’re not going to come up heathen!” That, along with each word gesticulated with her walking stick high in the air, is all the persuasion a nine-year-old needs to get up and out. I calculated it takes five minutes for her to reach me, so I can usually wrap up what I’m doing. The first whoosh of the stick is meant for a warning. Sometimes I suspect Granny holds herself back so she never quite reaches me. One time I delayed too long and the whoosh went right over my head. I went into a dive and roll, got up, backed away, books, papers, eyeglasses, and microscope flying everywhere. Granny howled with laughter and talked about it for a year. Granny hasn’t gone to church in three years, since she and Reverend Jones had a falling out about something. I don’t know what it was about, but I do remember Granny saying to Mom that it was scandalous.

My sister Mollie and I left early that day to catch Sunday school before the main service. Mollie had Granny’s direct, abrasive approach and seemed to fear neither man nor beast. The only thing Mollie is afraid of is frogs. When Mollie is around, I keep one in my pocket or close by so that if she gets upset I can pull it out and pet it. Mollie keeps her distance.

There is only one short business street in Beal and the church is at the far end of it. Mollie and I walked along the sidewalk; Mollie was peaceful. I walked my usual walk, Mollie says it is a bop. I don’t care how it looks as long as I’m comfortable. I cut my eyes toward Mollie frequently to make sure I could pick up any mood change. Mom had given us a dollar, so we stopped by Miss Mary’s grocery store for change. We could split the dollar and both have something for the collection. Miss Mary was her usual surly self.

“You children going to buy anything or did you come in here to steal? Everybody’s getting stuff on credit, and I can’t afford your thievin’. I don’t make no profit on givin’ change. I can’t even pay my electric bill this month. The whole world comes down to beg, borrow, or steal!”

Mollie cut loose. “Miss Mary, you been cheatin’ and stealin’ all your life, so’s you think everybody’s like you. You ain’t nothing but...”

Miss Mary knew Mollie’s reputation, but she has handled tough customers for years and brought up four boys by herself. When she came charging out from behind the counter, I left the store quickly. Mollie stood her ground. I heard shouts and curses, and by the time Mollie caught up with me her mood had darkened and I had to whip out the frog for the rest of the trip. We got to Sunday school just ahead of Fast Freddie.

Fast Freddie does not sleep on Friday and Saturday nights. He dances most of the night at several clubs and then runs to parties. If no one is throwing one, he does, and all the kids love to go to Fast Freddie’s parties because he dances, laughs, and talks nonstop. His parties run through early morning and all day. No one knows how he can afford it, although it is said he does pretty good selling grooming and beauty supplies. Freddie has never been known to come out on the short end of a deal. His sister says the only time Freddie was cheated was when he made the deal on good looks. What he lacked in looks, he made up in sharp clothes and charm. He has a way of making people around him feel better.

Fast Freddie was always still up Sunday mornings and came to church early to play the piano. That Sunday some of the sisters arrived early to prepare for a social and got huffy when they heard some rather unholy chords being coaxed out of the piano while Fast Freddie smiled with fingers extended, right ear turned toward the keyboard and knees jumping to the beat. That was the Sunday Fast Freddie was probably going to get killed for, or at least hurt badly if he was lucky.

It happened while the collection basket was being passed. Beal is populated by hardworking, decent folk, but during this time of year before harvest, nobody has any extra money except Mr. Brown and Mr. Harris, who work at the plant, and Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, who are both schoolteachers. Lamont always has money from his trips to big cities, and no one knows how he gets it. No one wants to know much about Lamont because they say he’s dangerous. Lamont always sends his brother Harry to church with money to put into the collection basket. That particular Sunday he sent a fifty dollar bill. Well, in Beal that represents a fortune. Harry, singing louder than usual, dropped it into the basket with much flair as the deacon’s eyes widened. I sat to Miss Mary’s right as I usually do because she is fat and gets hot easily and I can always depend on her to fan fast enough to cool both of us. Freddie was directly in front of me and Mollie sat to my right. The rhythm was picking up with a steady whump-pah, whump-pah, whump-pah. Fast Freddie always gets excited first and wants to jump and shout but cuts his eyes back constantly at Miss Mary with a slight turn of his head so he can see over his left shoulder. He looked quickly at Miss Mary, who is customarily expected to begin the shouting, as the collection basket with the fifty dollar bill was coming down toward her and well within his range. Suddenly Miss Mary got excited and jumped up shouting as she swung her meaty right arm toward me, knocking me off the bench onto the floor. That was Freddie’s signal, so he began. Mollie sat quietly as usual. I picked up my glasses and frog, climbed back onto the bench, and glanced down at the end of the row. The deacon stood with wide eyes because the fifty dollar bill had simply disappeared. Harry went back to Lamont and told him about what had happened. Lamont said he knew Fast Freddie took the fifty and that he would take care of it, which made Harry jittery because he knows how dangerous his brother is. Someday I’m going to be a lawyer and I thought Fast Freddie might need a little help. I approached Harry in the school playground.

Walking up to talk to Harry takes a little planning. If you’re too quiet, he jumps at the first word, and then it’s hard to get his attention. I sang a line from the current popular song, coughed, and did a little dance step as I approached. Harry had tears of laughter in his eyes and was doubled over but I didn’t mind, as long as I could get his attention.

“Harry, the word is out Lamont is going to get Fast Freddie. I know you can’t say anything about it, but just suppose Fast Freddie didn’t take the fifty?”

After a decent pause to allow Harry to get serious, I continued.

“Fifty dollars is hardly worth hurting a man for.” (I didn’t want to come out and say “killing.”) “Especially if the man didn’t do it.”

Harry knew the whole town had Fast Freddie tried and convicted. He said, “If Fast Freddie didn’t do it, who did? Mollie? Miss Mary? You, Alfred? You grab that fifty?”

“Harry, you know I wouldn’t take it. Mollie is mean, but I don’t think she would. I have a plan that may help you be sure if Fast Freddie took the fifty, and if we can pin him down on it, we can make him pay it back rather than... hurt him.”

I proceeded to show what kind of trouble Lamont would make for himself, with this being a small town and all, and how things would be different here than in the big cities where he works. I revealed my plan. Talk Lamont into giving another fifty dollar bill for the collection to use as “bait” money. I would arrange with the deacon to get the fifty back if he asked for it. The deacon could be trusted to keep it quiet, and we could use his eyes in order to catch the thief. They all asked the same question. “You don’t really think the thief will try the same thing twice, knowing we’ll all be watching like hawks, do you?” I assured them a little confusion would break out and that’s probably when the thief would make the move. I did not elaborate.

The next first Sunday arrived and we were prepared to lay the trap for sticky fingers. Reverend Jones opened the service, starting slowly as usual, preparing to gradually build the emotions until they reached a frenzy. Already his white shirt was a dull gray from perspiration. The happy spiritual began with a clap-dah, clap-dah, clap-dah, and Fast Freddie, seated in front of me, began wiggling his shoulders and glancing back at Miss Mary as usual. The deacon brought the basket down to our row with the fifty dollar bill planted by Harry. I had to time the disturbance just right. Now! Mollie jumped up with a bloodcurdling scream and commenced what looked like an Indian rain dance. Fast Freddie, who had been glancing over his left shoulder waiting for his cue from Miss Mary, was caught unprepared for Mollie’s scream behind his right shoulder and sat paralyzed with shock. Suspects one and two accounted for so far. I caught a movement to my left and dropped to my knees as Miss Mary’s fat arm whiffed over my head, which popped up like a periscope swiveling to survey the action. Mollie still dancing and screaming, Fast Freddie still staring paralyzed. Miss Mary’s arm whipped back, my head ducking under and looking up at the blur of fingers racing by... without the fifty. Up periscope, swivel, Mollie still dancing and screaming, Miss Mary sitting still and rolling her eyes at Mollie, remembering their confrontation and knowing Mollie could not be sincere, she had to be faking it. Fast Freddie was still paralyzed. The deacon stood at the end of the row with eyes as big as saucers, even bigger than the last time. I eased back into my seat, craning my neck to see the collection basket, and was shocked to see not one but two fifty dollar bills. Suddenly it was quite clear. Miss Mary’s words back at her store, “The world has come to beg, borrow, or steal.” I wonder if she considered herself borrowing or stealing the fifty. At least she paid it back.

Miss Mary is going to get awfully upset when she gets my anonymous letter explaining that her tricky business was observed and so don’t try it again. She’ll end up spending another seventy-five dollars that she tried to collect from my parents for doctor bills when Mollie upset her, and she is going to be a little embarrassed at showing her face around town for a while.

Lamont won’t have to deal with Fast Freddie. Fast Freddie will go on being Fast Freddie, that’s a fact. Mollie? Well, ever since Mollie did her scream and dance, people around town have looked at her in a different light. They swear she has religion and is a new person. Mollie is getting more attention than she has all her life, and for the first time has a little self-esteem. She carries herself like a little lady. And best of all, she never told anyone that on one particular Sunday, timing it just right, I threw my frog right into her lap.