Because of Winn-Dixie (11 page)

And then Sweetie Pie’s mother came by with Sweetie Pie. Sweetie Pie had a whole handful of pictures of dogs that she had cut out of magazines. “It’s to help you with your theme,” she said. “You can use them to decorate. I brung tape, too.” And she started going around taping the pictures of the dogs to the trees and the chairs and the table.

“She ain’t talked about nothing but this party all day long,” said her mother. “Can you walk her home when it’s over?”

I promised that I would, and then I introduced Sweetie Pie to Miss Franny and to Gloria, and right after that, the preacher showed up. He was wearing a coat and tie and looked real serious. He shook Gloria Dump’s hand and Miss Franny Block’s hand and said how pleased he was to meet them both and how he had heard nothing but good things about both of them. He patted Sweetie Pie on the head and said it was good to see her outside of church. And the whole time, Winn-Dixie was standing right in the middle of everybody, wagging his tail so hard that I thought for sure he would knock Miss Franny right off her high heels.

Amanda Wilkinson came and she had her blond hair all curled up and she looked shy and not as mean as usual, and I stood real close to her and introduced her to Gloria Dump. I was surprised at how glad I was to see Amanda. And I wanted to tell her I knew about Carson. I wanted to tell her I understood about losing people, but I didn’t say anything. I was just extra nice.

We were all standing around smiling at one another and acting kind of nervous, when a real screechy voice said, “Gertrude is a pretty bird.”

Winn-Dixie’s ears went straight up on his head, and he barked once and looked around. I looked, too, but I didn’t see Gertrude. Or Otis.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to everybody. Me and Winn-Dixie went running around to the front of the house. And sure enough, standing there on the sidewalk was Otis. He had his guitar on his back and Gertrude on his shoulder, and in his hands, he was holding the biggest jar of pickles I had ever seen in my life.

“Otis,” I said to him, “come on around back, that’s where the party is.”

“Oh,” he said. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, holding on to his jar of pickles.

“Dog,” screeched Gertrude. She flew off of Otis’s shoulder and landed on Winn-Dixie’s head.

“It’s all right, Otis,” I told him. “It’s just a few people, hardly any people at all.”

“Oh,” said Otis again. He looked around like he was lost. Then he held up the jar of pickles. “I brought pickles,” he said.

“I saw them,” I said. “It’s just exactly what we needed. They will go perfect with the egg-salad sandwiches.” I talked to him real soft and gentle and low, like he was a wild animal that I was trying to get to take food out of my hand.

He took one tiny step forward.

“Come on,” I whispered. I started walking and Winn-Dixie followed me. And when I turned around, I saw Otis was following me, too.

O
tis followed me all the way into the backyard, where the party was. Before he could run away, I introduced him to the preacher.

“Daddy,” I said, “this is Otis. He’s the one who runs Gertrude’s Pets. He’s the one who plays the guitar so good.”

“How do you do?” said the preacher. He stuck his hand out to Otis. And Otis stood there and shuffled his big jar of pickles back and forth, trying to free up a hand to offer back to the preacher. Finally, he ended up bending over and setting the jar down on the ground. But when he did that, his guitar slid forward and hit him in the head with a little
boing
sound; Sweetie Pie laughed and pointed at him like he was doing the whole thing on purpose just to amuse her.

“Ouch,” said Otis. He stood back up and took the guitar off his shoulder and put it down on the ground next to the jar of pickles, and then he wiped his hand on his pants and stuck it out to the preacher, who took it and said, “It sure is a pleasure to shake your hand.”

“Thank you,” said Otis. “I brought pickles.”

“I noticed,” said the preacher.

After the preacher and Otis were done shaking hands, I introduced Otis to Miss Franny Block and to Amanda.

And then I introduced him to Gloria Dump. Gloria took his hand and smiled at him. And Otis looked right in her eyes and smiled back. He smiled big.

“I brought pickles for your party,” Otis told her.

“And I am so glad,” she said. “It just ain’t a party without pickles.”

Otis looked down at his big jar of pickles. His face was all red.

“Opal,” said Gloria, “when are them boys getting here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I shrugged. “I told them what time we were starting.” What I didn’t tell her was that they probably weren’t coming, because they were afraid to go to a party at a witch’s house.

“Well,” said Gloria. “We got egg-salad sandwiches. We got Dump Punch. We got pickles. We got dog pictures. We got Littmus Lozenges. And we got a preacher, who can bless this party for us.”

Gloria Dump looked over at the preacher.

He nodded his head at Gloria and cleared his throat and said, “Dear God, thank you for warm summer nights and candlelight and good food. But thank you most of all for friends. We appreciate the complicated and wonderful gifts you give us in each other. And we appreciate the task you put down before us, of loving each other the best we can, even as you love us. We pray in Christ’s name. Amen.”

“Amen,” said Gloria Dump.

“Amen,” I whispered.

“Gertrude,” croaked Gertrude.

“Are we fixing to eat now?” Sweetie Pie asked.

“Shhhh,” said Amanda.

Winn-Dixie sneezed.

There was a far-off rumble of thunder. I thought at first that it was Winn-Dixie’s stomach growling.

“It ain’t supposed to rain,” said Gloria Dump. “They didn’t predict no rain.”

“This dress is silk,” said Miss Franny Block. “I cannot get it wet.”

“Maybe we should go inside,” said Amanda.

The preacher looked up at the sky.

And just then, the rain came pouring down.

S
ave the sandwiches,” Gloria Dump yelled to me. “Save the punch.”

“I got my dog pictures,” screamed Sweetie Pie. She went running around, tearing them off the trees and the chairs. “Don’t worry,” she kept shouting. “I got ’em.”

I grabbed the platter of egg-salad sandwiches and the preacher grabbed the punch, and we ran into the kitchen with them; and when I ran back outside, I saw that Amanda had hold of Miss Franny Block and was helping her into the house. Miss Franny was so teetery in her high heels that the rain would have knocked her right over if Amanda hadn’t held on to her.

I grabbed Gloria Dump’s arm.

“I’m all right,” she said. But she put her hand on my arm and held on to me tight.

I looked around the garden before we left. All the crepe paper was melted and the candles were out, and then I saw Otis. He was standing there by his jar of pickles, looking down at his feet.

“Otis,” I hollered at him over the rain, “come on, we’re going inside.”

When we got in the kitchen, Amanda and Miss Franny were laughing and shaking themselves like dogs.

“What a downpour,” said Miss Franny. “Wasn’t that something?”

“That came right out of nowhere,” said the preacher.

“Whooooeee,” said Gloria.

“Dog,” squawked Gertrude. I looked at her. She was sitting on the kitchen table. The thunder was really booming and cracking.

“Oh no,” I said. I looked around the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” said Sweetie Pie. “I saved them dog pictures. I got ’em right here.” She waved around her wad of magazine pages.

“Where’s Winn-Dixie?” I shouted. “I forgot about him. I was just thinking about the party and I forgot about Winn-Dixie. I forgot about protecting him from the thunder.”

“Now, Opal,” the preacher said, “he’s probably right out in the yard, hiding underneath a chair. Come on, you and I will go look.”

“Hold on,” said Gloria Dump, “let me get you a flashlight and some umbrellas.”

But I didn’t want to wait. I went running out into the yard. I looked under all the chairs and around all the bushes and trees. I called his name real loud. I felt like crying. It was my fault. I was supposed to hold on to him. And I forgot.

“Opal,” I heard the preacher call.

I looked up. He was standing on the porch with Gloria. And Dunlap and Stevie Dewberry were standing there, too.

“Your guests are here,” the preacher said.

“I don’t care,” I hollered.

“Come on up here,” Gloria Dump said, her voice all hard and serious. She shone her flashlight out at me.

I walked up onto the porch and she handed me the flashlight. “Tell these boys, ‘hey,’” she said. “Tell them you are glad they came and that you will be right back just as soon as you find your dog.”

“Hey,” I said. “Thank you for coming. I just got to find Winn-Dixie and then I’ll be right back.”

Stevie stared at me with his mouth wide open.

“You want me to help?” Dunlap asked.

I shook my head. I tried not to cry.

“Come here, child,” Gloria Dump said. She reached for me and pulled me close to her and whispered in my ear, “There ain’t no way you can hold on to something that wants to go, you understand? You can only love what you got while you got it.”

She squeezed me hard.

“Good luck now,” she called, as me and the preacher stepped off the porch and out into the rain.

“Good luck,” Miss Franny called from the kitchen.

“That dog ain’t lost,” I heard Sweetie Pie holler to somebody inside. “That dog’s too smart to get lost.”

I turned around and looked back, and the last thing I saw was the porch light shining on Dunlap Dewberry’s bald head. It made me sad, him standing on Gloria’s porch, his bald head glowing. Dunlap saw me looking, and he raised up his hand and waved to me. I didn’t wave back.