I Still Dream About You: A Novel by Fannie Flagg Read Free Book Online Page A

answers, and if she ever resented it or felt sorry for herself, they didn’t know it. Somehow, her mother had said the exact perfect word at the exact right time. Hazel was told that she was to be different than most, but “special,” and Hazel had liked that word. She would settle for that and make the best of it. What her parents didn’t know was that inside that small body beat the heart of a natural born businesswoman, and she could hardly wait to get started.
    Just five short years later, Mrs. Mae Flower was at the sink rinsing out her deviled egg plate when she heard a knock on the front door. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and wondered who could be visiting her this time of day, but when she opened her door to find out, no one was there. She was about to close it again when sheheard a voice from below saying, “Good afternoon, ma’am.” She looked down to where the voice was coming from, and there stood the smallest person she had ever seen in her entire life, wearing a pair of tiny little overalls and a pink barrette in her hair.
    “Good afternoon, ma’am,” the small person repeated. “I hope you are having a pleasant afternoon.”
    Mrs. Flower was so completely surprised to see the tiny talking person that she clapped her hands in delight.
    “Oh, if you are not just the cutest little thing … I could just pick you up and squeeze you to death, and just look at those little teeny feet and hands. Why, you are just a walking, talking little doll.”
    The little doll flashed a beautiful smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”
    Mrs. Flower threw the door open and said, “Well, come on in, precious, and let me get you some pie or something. Oh, I wish my husband were at home to see you. He’s never going to believe me. Are you here with the circus?”
    “Oh no, ma’am,” said the little person. “I live here in Woodlawn, over on Thirteenth Street South, about five blocks from here.” She pointed to the car parked at the curb. “My mother drove me over.”
    Mrs. Flower looked out and saw a full-sized lady sitting in a green Chevy smile and wave at her.
    Mrs. Flower waved back and led the little person into the living room and indicated for her to sit. “What can I do for you, darling? Are you collecting money for anything?”
    “Oh no, ma’am, I was just wondering if you had any weeds you wanted pulled today.”
    “Weeds?”
    “Yes, ma’am, when we drove by, I noticed you have quite a few weeds that need pulling.” The little person walked over to the living room windowsill, which came up to her nose, stood up on her toes, and sized up the lawn. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll pull the front yard and your side yard for a dollar.”
    “You mean … pull up the weeds?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Are you sure you want to do that? That’s mighty dirty work for a pretty little thing like you.”
    “Oh, I don’t mind the work. I like it.”
    Mrs. Flower crossed her hands over heart and said, “Oh, honey, I don’t want you to have to do that. Why don’t I just give you a dollar? It was worth it just to get to see you at my door. You’ve just cheered me up so.”
    The little person frowned. “Oh no, ma’am, I couldn’t take any money if I didn’t earn it.”
    Mrs. Flower could tell the girl meant it, and she hated to have her leave empty-handed, so she sighed. “Well, honey, if you want to pull some weeds, go ahead, I guess.”
    A few minutes later, when Mrs. Flower was busy cutting a piece of pie and preparing a tall glass of iced tea for her tiny unexpected visitor, her next-door neighbor, Pearl Jeff, the judge’s wife, came to the side screen door, still dressed and wearing her strand of good pearls from attending an earlier bridge club luncheon.
    She said sharply, “Mae, do you know there’s a midget sitting in your yard?”
    “Yes, I do. Come on in,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron.
    The judge’s wife stomped in, looking very concerned. “Why is there a midget sitting on