“What the hell are they doing up there?” Cubby said as Mr. Hope introduced the next entrants.
“I have no idea,” Annabelle said, looking as surprised as the sheriff.
Tex, Buster, Brad, Fin and Joe from Ryker Falls were all now onstage.
“I’m not sure about the Ryker boys, but none of ours can sing worth a damn,” Annabelle added.
They wore black suits and red ties and made no eye contact with anyone.
“Was there a bet of some sort I wasn’t aware of?” Cubby said.
Ryan looked at Branna and Jake; neither appeared surprised. Neither did Willow, who now sat with them. Newman was already laughing so hard he was crying as he rocked the buggy back and forth.
“The McBrides and Willow are in on it. Newman too,” Ryan said.
“What’s the deal, Jake?” Cubby called to his friend.
“Mrs. C was trying to rustle up contestants one day in The Hoot. Buster had just pulled a tray of chicken and cheesy crust pies out the oven. The last three to finish eating one in under a minute had to put in an entry. Me and Newman won; those three didn’t. Not sure how the Ryker boys got included though,” Jake added.
Music started, and it was an old classic. Slow, but the beat easy to dance to. The men stood in a line across the stage.
“This is going to be good,” Cubby said.
Surprisingly, they moved in unison, and while Buster wasn’t exactly fluid, and Fin missed a few steps, the two big, handsome Texans and Joe Trainer had rhythm.
“Oh, my lord, would you look at that man.” Annabelle clapped her hands together as the music picked up.
“You’re drooling,” Ryan told her.
The steps were simple, but they did it perfectly coordinated… until the last note, when Buster got too close to the end of the stage and fell off. This was greeted by hoots of laughter. Jed leapt to his feet and helped Buster back up.
Ryan and Cubby were howling with laughter, and Newman was now doubled over.
The finale was Fin, Buster, and Brad getting on all fours.
“This could end real b-bad,” Cubby snort-laughed.
Tex and Joe climbed on top, and the pyramid was formed. They stuck it to rapturous applause.
“Well now, that was unexpected,” Mr. Hope said as the men bowed, now smiling with relief.
“I thought it was a singing contest?” Jed said.
The acts came and went. Some were good and others terrible. Gussie Neeps and her family played homemade instruments as she sang. The crowd loved them even though she couldn’t hit a single note.
The last group to take the stage was Mrs. C’s. With her came Philly Lewis, Martha Blakie, and Nat Smith. Each wore a fitted bodysuit in bright red with lime and yellow geometrical patterns.
“Where the hell does she get that stuff?” Annabelle said, awed.
“I don’t know, but I wish they’d go out of business,” Cubby muttered.
The women were all elderly, but to Ryan’s mind pulled off the costumes simply because they were so outrageous. Anyone willing to make a statement like that in public had his backing.
Mrs. C produced a flute, much to everyone’s surprise.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Annabelle said.
“If anyone can, you can,” Cubby replied.