The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

So all of Darling would know by now that Mr. Johnson was not only a free man, he had never been arrested for doing whatever he might (or might not) have done to get the bank closed. As Mr. Moseley had remarked, what the sheriff needed was evidence, and he didn’t have any.

“At least, not enough,” he had added. “Not yet, anyway.”

Lizzy kept on stirring. She had the feeling that Mr. Moseley’s remark about evidence fell under the gag rule and shouldn’t be repeated. There was a moment’s silence. Her back was turned to the group, but she could feel everybody’s eyes, boring into her shoulder blades like sharp, bright augers.

Finally, Bessie cleared her throat. “Well, you’ve got to hand it to your Mr. Moseley,” she said with some irony. “He does go to bat for his clients. Even the guilty ones.”

Her Mr. Moseley? Lizzy stirred harder. Why was he her Mr. Moseley all of a sudden?

But Aunt Hetty was thinking of something else. “You’re sayin’ Mr. Johnson is at home, all by himself, Liz?” She whistled through the gaps in her front teeth. “That might not be just real smart, you know, dear. I was in Musgrove’s Hardware this morning and heard some folks talking about tar and feathers. If he was in jail, he’d likely be safe. Or if Voleen was at home and they tried to get at him, she could call the sheriff.”

Lizzy turned around. “Tar and feathers!” she exclaimed, horrified. “Oh, my goodness!”

“Well, what do you expect, Liz?” Earlynne demanded crossly. “Whatever that man was up to at the bank, he wasn’t playing tiddlywinks. He did something bad enough to get it closed, and not just on ‘holiday,’ either. Everybody in Darling is now in serious trouble. People won’t get their paychecks, so they can’t pay their rent and buy groceries. Why, I’ll bet Hank and I don’t have more than four or five dollars between the two of us.”

“Even if they could buy groceries,” Bessie said glumly, “Mrs. Hancock might not have any to sell. She stocks her shelves on credit from the bank. If she can’t get credit, her suppliers won’t sell her any beans or rice or canned goods or soap or—”

“It was the same thing at the hardware store,” Aunt Hetty said. “I went in to see the new garden tools Mr. Musgrove had ordered—I was thinking of replacing my old spade. But he couldn’t pay for the tools. So when they were delivered, he had to send them back.”

“Hank thought maybe he could borrow some money from one of the banks in Monroeville, to meet this week’s payroll,” Earlynne said. “But with the situation everywhere as bad as it is, they’re limiting credit to depositors only. So that’s out.”