Page 74 of Frankly, My Dear

Wracking her brain for songs that would be suitable for aerobics, Selene launched into, “Jeremiah was a bullfrog.” She was snapping her fingers and bopping in her chair the whole time.

Two of the women exchanged looks with each other that clearly questioned her sanity. But Hyacinth’s mammoth breasts were bobbing up and down as she got into the swing of the music’s rhythm, clapping in counterpoint to Selene’s snapping. And Rose Petal’s shoebox-size feet marked time on the stone floor to the boogie beat.

“Of course, there’s always ‘Achy Breaky Heart.’”

Iris smiled widely. “I likes the sound of that one.”

When Selene got to the part of the Billy Ray Cyrus song with the “whoo-whoo” refrain like a train whistle, she knew she’d found their hallmark aerobics exercise song.

A short time later, the women practically line danced from the kitchen to the second parlor. Snaking along in their ill-fitting homespun trousers and work shirts with rolled-up sleeves and knotted-at-the-waist tails, they sang in tandem better than any Nashville back-up group.

Soon they all dripped with perspiration, but it was a good feeling. Selene was showing Hyacinth, Lily, and Reba how to hold the palms of their hands pressed together in front of their breasts, elbows up and out. “Now keep holding the pressure as long as you can. See. Press, release, press, release. Do that twenty times and then alternate with the front and back shoulder rolls, like I showed you.”

“Are you sure this will make my tits get smaller?” Hyacinth asked crudely.

“And make ours get bigger?” Lily asked, looking at Reba who stood beside her, murmuring in concentration, “Press, release, press, release…”

Selene cringed. She was beginning to think that the only thing that would help Lily-of-the-lilypad-chest was a lifetime supply of Wonder Bras. “No, no, no. I never said it could enlarge or reduce breasts. It will just build up muscles around the breasts, make them firmer, uplifted. Frankly, Hyacinth, if you’d lose a little weight, it might help more. And exercise.”

Hyacinth grumbled but agreed to try.

“Now let’s get back to the tush crunches.”

“Not again,” Iris groaned. “Lordy, my behind feels like I been ridin’ a horse for two days.”

“That’s good. That’s good,” Selene said, dropping down to the rag rug at her feet. She waited until all the other ladies had done the same and lay on their backs, legs spread, knees bent. “Now remember, every time you thrust your pelvis up, you’ve got to squeeze your tush cheeks together and hold for a few seconds, like you’re trying to crush a piece of straw between them.”

They all moaned as one.

“Now you start singing, and I’ll do the count.”

They began singing enthusiastically, and she marked time with them, calling out rhythmically, “Thrust, up, hold…harder…harder…now release. Thrust, up, hold, release. Thrust up, hold, release.”

“Some of these hoes need to be sharpened,” Fergus told James as they both stood in the hot sun of the cane fields, wiping perspiration from their foreheads and necks with already sodden handkerchiefs. James pushed his hat back on his head, surveying the workers who lined up before the food and water wagon, then sank down into whatever grassy spots they could find in the shade.

“I’ll go,” James offered. “I want to see how Rufus is doing with the yard work I set him to do.”

“He seems to know a great deal about plants.”

James nodded. “Says he helped landscape some plantation in Virginia before the owner died. He’s a good worker. I think he’ll work out well.”

“Do you still hope he’ll be able to take over as driver for Amen?”

“I don’t know. Amen has been head of all the field workers since I arrived here ten years ago. He’s free now, of course, but the man’s sixty years old, and Blossom thinks he’s suffering from the lung disease.”

“Why don’t we have Rufus work alongside Amen starting next week and see what Amen thinks? He’s always been a good judge of men.”

“Oui.” Then, untying his horse’s reins from a tree and mounting, he gazed down at Fergus, who was still pondering the situation with great seriousness. James decided the man needed some gentle ribbing. “By the way, mon ami, you might want to have Blossom look at those bites on your neck. You wouldn’t want them to get infected.” His lips twitched with suppressed laughter as he spoke.

Not to be ruffled, Fergus touched his neck almost with pride, and puffed his chest out like a randy rooster. “You wouldn’t be jealous now, would you, James? You wouldn’t be wonderin’ how many of those bites I’ve got on other parts of my body, as well?”

James guffawed, shaking his head at his friend’s obvious pleasure in a night well spent.

“Well, I for one intend to thank Selene,” Fergus went on. “She’s certainly added some zest to my life.”

Mine, too. Unfortunately.

“I can’t wait to see what she does next.”