Jane’s daughter spoke up and said: “Who was that you were talking to on the phone?”
Jane said it was her friend Breeze. “What
kind of a name is Breeze, Mom?” Jane said it was a name that brought happiness
to her. She went on to explain that when she was young she had a girlfriend who
was very special. Her real name was Olga and she was always saying: “Who names
their kid Olga? It sounds like something someone growls out when they are under
some sort of difficulty.” Jane laughed and said: “What would you like me to
call you?” Olga said, “Oh, I don’t know,
but I could use a breath of fresh air.” Jane laughed and said, “That would be a
breeze if you weren’t so particular.” She looked at me and said, “I like the
name.” “What name? I didn’t give you a
name,” Jane said. “Oh yes you did, Jane, and it suits me just fine.” “What name?”
I said a little louder. “Why, Breeze, of course. It suits me fine for you’re
all the time saying I breeze in and out of here hardly landing long enough to
say ‘Howdy’ on a good day.” I laughed and said, “Breeze it is then.”
The nickname stuck and everyone
started to call her Breeze. Breeze could shake the earth with her independence
for she was a free spirit that pushed the boundaries. Not wicked boundaries,
but the boundaries of curiosity and wonder. She had a way of delving into
something that was never exhausted until everything was turned over a couple of
times.
Jane’s daughter encouraged her mom to
tell the whole story. “Alright,” Jane said, and then continued.
“Breeze always lit up when there was
a challenge to conventional thinking but still had the common sense that always
brought her to weigh everything to make the solution or idea stand on merit and
truth. Her standard always brought her friends but none so close as me. I was the friend to be trusted and the
optimist to make it enjoyable but with a touch of zaniest humor. I had been
watching Breeze and instinctively knew something was a foot. Our friendship
gave us access to mood swings and details of each other’s character so we could
see a change or recognize something different.”
Well there was something in the wind
alright as Breeze was antsy and restless which usually meant an idea had formed
and the trail to adventure was just ahead.
I got the call that Saturday morning
and couldn’t get out of the house fast enough to get the details from Breeze. Breeze
had been fuming for a while about a girls’ club who was from the rich side of
the tracks. They had moved in on us rubes and caught couple of our friends and made
fun of them about their dress, their manners and said they were going to show
us how those who have more class deal with those who have not. They worked the
two girls over by spraying their clothing with sparkly paint. Then they glued
strips of cloth onto their clothing. They brought a small horse drawn cart
filled with rotten vegetables and made the two girls haul it down the main
street of the town. Before the cops came they disappeared with the cart and upon
leaving, pelted the two girls with tomatoes. One last insult was hurled at the
two girls by hanging signs on them reading: ‘Losers.’ The two girls hurried away
before the police came but they had fire in their eyes.
The two girls knew who their antagonists
were but there was only one thought on their minds. ‘Our day is coming.’ The
word spread and it wasn’t long before Breeze had a plan. She told me all about
it. We could hardly wait until Breeze got our pals together and laid it out for
them.
The gathering was at my place as my
folks were on a trip. It was lively,
planned and between snacks each girl relished her part and could hardly wait to
get started. Breeze said she would get the word out when the time was ripe. The
call came and the girls were to meet at the High School yard late Friday
afternoon. Well, we went over the plan several times and now they were to wait
for the signal to start the ball rolling.
All the ten girls showed up the next
day, which was Saturday, and they started off. Breeze had discovered there was
a gathering at the country club of these spoilers and they would be dressed in
their night’s finest. Breeze had explained to her Dad the whole situation and
he had agreed to help. It seemed her Dad had a run in with some them that left
a bad taste in his mouth. He would do what he could but no one was to know of
his involvement. Breeze agreed and her Dad made sure she had her driver’s
license as well as the designated driver for the other vehicle. She checked
with her pals to be certain they had brought the things she requested and asked
if everyone knew their part. They did and it was time to go. All ten of them
had uniforms where they had sewed on the name Audrey’s Catering. A service
truck was provided by Breeze’s Dad along with a van so there would be enough
room for everyone.
The club was laid out with an
entrance at the back where there was a delivery door. They would bring in boxes
of catering supplies, meaning on the surface, but the real supplies would be
hidden under them. The two girls who were the ones who had been worked over
would identify the ten girls who had humiliated them. They had to be careful
not to run afoul of the regular staff preparing the meal. Breeze had worked it in so
that staff was led to believe that the Audrey’s Caterers were to be a surprise
from some of the club members for their kids. Breezes dad helped to arrange
with the staff for the surprise by getting a couple friends who were actors to
play the part of dignified parents. The vehicle arrived exactly at 6:30 Pm. The
staff understood the caterers would need only the desert dishes on the table.
The idea was to look busy and act
like a crew of professionals which was exactly how they rehearsed it. The 10 highbrow
girls would be with their beaus and be sitting down to a meal. Timing was the key
as the real caterers would be handling the meal but the dessert would be the
surprise as long as the ten girls stayed out of sight. They had worked out a
side room with the staff where the 10 girls were placed and where they could
move quickly to get their special dessert to the high toned ten. They had
already taken the catering supplies they had hidden the special dessert under
and taken them out to their truck .Now they waited. Lids were loosened on the
pails. They checked the contents carefully: Plastic pails of sauerkraut and
onions in a mix of tomato soup. One more ingredient was on the side -- pails
of flour. When the signal came they would march out and stand by the ten women
and it had to be timed so as not to interfere with the regular catering company’s
placement of their desserts. They knew
that the people at the table would wonder what was going on but not be alarmed
until things started to happen. The signal came and each wrong side of the
track girl dumped the contents of her pail in a hurried fashion. The screams and curses of the ten on the
right side of the tracks howling in dismay, sputtering and coughing and spitting
while the slime of the mix washed over their faces. Each minute of disgust
brought the hotsy totsy’s to tears and the not so hotsy totsy’s to howling
laughter. Total chaos and revulsion took over as big shot steaming girls uttered
not so lady like comments. Shouts of you blankety,blankety &8//%??!!** filled
the room as the gang of ten get even girls fled to their catering vehicles. It
was like a chorus of wild hysteria of glee and words like – “Those drowned rats
are so sticky and messy they won’t be able to see straight for a week.”
Breeze could hardly drive as the
laughter that started filled us with wild eyed glee. The comments could not have been sweeter to
our ears. It was the same in the van and how sweet it was.
The escape plan was working and now
we had to hide the evidence. First, the
uniforms had the words of Audrey’s Catering taken off. Just as quickly, the
uniforms were put in the wash. Secondly, all of the material used was washed up
and cleaned and put away. The alibis had been carefully worked out and each
girl had arranged ahead of time with other friends to have been with them
during that evening. The service truck was delivered to Breezes’ Dad’s friend
after the temporary sign was washed off. The clean uniforms were taken back to
a friend who had a supply business in another town. Breezes’ dad did his
part. The uniforms, vehicles and
supplies he obtained which were so handy. Oh Yeh! The final insult was when the girls
left a sign on the table which read. ‘WELCOME TO SNOBVILLE.’
The ten girls who pulled off the
prank had one other defense. Each girl was to wear her hair differently and
alter her facial appearance just slightly. It seemed to have worked for the
snobs had a hard time describing what these girls looked like. The police were
trying not to laugh but when they showed up and saw the state of things. They could not get the questions out such as:
‘They poured what over you?’ ‘Let’s see,’
said the officer, ‘Sauerkraut, onions, tomato soup and, what was that last
ingredient? Flour? Boy, that is some paste. I mean, some kind of mixture. You
say they left a sign. Where is it?’ It was pointed out. The officer asked, ‘Does
that sign having meaning to you?’ Laughter filled the room as the officer
inspected the sign.
One last thing: It seemed the club
management had never heard of Audrey’s catering. When the snobs were asked
about Audrey’s catering none of them had ever heard of it either. The
investigating Officer wrote down in his report as a heading: ‘A mix up at
Belvedere Country Club,’ which became the headline in the local paper the next
day. A remark also in that article was: ‘Messy contents slipped by the members
of the Belvedere Country Club only to reappear at the dinner table. Breeze said to me: ‘Well, those uptown snoots got theirs but the satisfaction
was all in the knowing that sometimes when it is all said and done there is an
equalizer. It comes in the form of having enough and then doing something about
it.’ Breeze paused and then said: ‘Sometimes
the balance is tipped in our favor and boy did we shine. I feel like having my
favorite sundae; you coming, Jane? I’m buying.’ “
Of course the girls from the other
side of the tracks would lay low for a while. Eventually things slowed down and
the matter was forgotten. Jane’s daughter looked at her mom and said, “I sure
would like to meet Breeze. She is some
smart cookie.” Jane replied, “OK. How about next week? She is flying in from Canada.” “Canada?” said Jane’s daughter. “Why Canada?” “That’s another story,” said Jane, “perhaps
you can get Breeze to tell you about it.”
Digby
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