The audience applauded heartily as two young girls emerged to present Mollie with a bouquet of roses and a white satin sash with red lettering, which was placed over her head and draped from her right shoulder across her body.
“Next is our Ms. Charm and Personality Award,” Bertha continued, “presented to the contestant whom the judges believe best fulfills those qualities. And the winner is… Emily Fitzsimmons!”
Again, presentations of roses and a satin sash were made, as they were to the winner of the third specialty award, Jennifer Croft, who won for Ms. Photogenic.
“From our final three contestants,” Bertha Grayfire announced, “the judges have chosen two runners-up, as well as this year’s Blueberry Queen. I should mention that the queen and her court will preside over the Blueberry Queen Dance, which will kick off in about half an hour. I hope you’ll all attend. And now it’s time to announce our winners.”
As the audience sat in hushed expectation, Maggie reached over, took Candy’s hand, and pressed it to her chest. “Feel my beating heart,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m so nervous.”
“Hang in there,” Candy whispered supportively. “We’re almost at the end.”
“The second runner-up,” Bertha said as she glanced down at the card in her hand, “will receive a two-hundred-fifty-dollar scholarship award, as well as a one-hundred-dollar gift certificate and a gift basket. And the second runner-up is… Amanda Tremont!”
“Oh!” was all Maggie could say in a surprised voice as she joined the audience in applause. “She came in third place.”
Candy nudged her friend. “That’s pretty good. Look, she’s happy.”
With a wide smile Amanda stepped forward to accept her bouquet of roses, her white satin sash, and a small silver tiara. She bent down so the two young girls could place it securely on her head.
“Amanda Tremont, our second runner-up!” Bertha called out to the crowd as the applause welled up again.
As Amanda stepped to one side, Bertha gathered the two remaining contestants to her side. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said dramatically, “we’ve come down to our final two contestants-Haley Pruitt and Sapphire Vine. As you know, the first runner-up plays a vitally important role. Should the Blueberry Queen not be able to fulfill her duties, for whatever reason, the first runner-up will assume those duties. And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.”
Bertha took a moment to place her reading glasses on the end of her nose and check her card a final time. Candy noticed her hand was shaking. Finally, she lowered her glasses and stepped up to the microphone.
“It’s got to be Haley Pruitt,” Candy hissed, leaning close to Maggie’s ear.
Maggie gripped her arm. “Pray to God you’re right. I hate to think what will happen if the Blueberry Blob wins.”
“The first runner-up will receive a five-hundred-dollar scholarship award, as well as a one-hundred-dollar gift certificate and a gift basket,” Bertha said. “The Blueberry Queen will receive a one-thousand-dollar scholarship award, as well as a one-hundred-dollar gift certificate and a gift basket.”
Bertha paused and looked out over the audience. “There’s nothing more to say, except to announce the winners. And so, without further adieu, the first runner-up is… Haley Pruitt!”
A wave of shock and gasps swept through the audience, and Mrs. Pruitt appeared to faint, as Bertha Grayfire announced over the tumult, “That means this year’s Blueberry Queen is Sapphire Vine!”
NINE
So Sapphire Vine is the Blueberry Queen.
Candy shook her head. She still couldn’t believe it.
Hell has definitely frozen over-and has become a skating rink for the Sapphire Vines of the world.
It was Monday morning, two days after the festival and the pageant that had ended so dramatically. Candy was in her ten-year-old teal Jeep Cherokee, headed into town to run a few errands. She had a lot to do before she met Maggie at noon for lunch. But for some reason she just couldn’t get Sapphire Vine out of her mind.
Twice yesterday, the video of the Blueberry Queen Pageant had been rebroadcast on the local cable-access channel. Candy watched it both times, from start to finish, with a mixture of horror, fascination, and outright glee.
There were so many parts of it she loved, like when Sapphire came prancing out on stage in her cowgirl outfit, or when she recited that wacky poem of hers while dressed as a giant ripe blueberry. But Candy also liked watching Amanda go through her athletic routine, and she especially enjoyed hearing Haley Pruitt play the Rachmaninoff piece.
Her favorite part, though, was what had happened after Sapphire Vine had been crowned the Blueberry Queen. Whenever that part came on the TV, Candy leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palms, and scrutinized every delicious moment.
As Bertha Grayfire announced the winner, Sapphire Vine had overreacted wildly, squealing like a teenager at a sixties Beatles concert. She had bounced up and down shouting “Oh! Oh! Oh!” and flailed her arms about so wildly she actually came close to pummeling the other contestants on stage.
At the same moment, Helen Ross Pruitt, Haley’s sour-faced grandmother, rose quickly to her feet, much to the surprise of her butler Hopkins (or whatever his name was). He reached out to perhaps comfort Mrs. Pruitt, or perhaps to restrain her, but she forcefully shoved him aside and charged the judges’ table like a bull on the streets of Pamplona, her long bony finger leveled at them as she spat out her displeasure, her face dark with rage.
The judges had risen uneasily to their feet in defense, and the shouting had begun. Wild accusations and vehement denials had flown back and forth. Mrs. Pruitt actually came close to blows with one of the judges, Oliver LaForce, who ran the Lightkeeper’s Inn. He had vehemently denied any wrongdoing and accused her of overreacting and, worse, bad sportsmanship. Candy had watched as Mrs. Pruitt flourished her tightly clenched fists in rage. She looked ready to swing out but had finally been restrained by her long-suffering butler.
It was a surrealistic moment straight out of the movies but something rarely seen in real life.
Candy loved every moment of it.
The entire hall erupted then as the camera lens swung erratically about, trying to record the ensuing chaos for posterity. The audience members were on their feet; some clapped politely, but most just stood in shock, and a few-perhaps supporters of Haley Pruitt and some of the other contestants-stormed from the hall in disbelief or disgust.
And though she stood in the middle of the firestorm, Sapphire Vine had been strangely oblivious to what was going on around her. Instead, she acted every bit the Blueberry Queen-probably because, Candy suspected, Sapphire had been anticipating and practicing that moment for weeks, more than likely in front of a mirror. It was almost as if she had known she was going to win-or at the very least, thought it her destiny.
With great dignity she accepted the bouquet and sash from the two little girls and bent forward regally so Bertha Grayfire could place a crown on the queen’s head. Sapphire then responded to the muted congratulations of the other contestants by pulling each of them to her in tight, glorious hugs.
At this point, Candy had squinted closely at the TV to watch the barely controlled expressions of distaste on the faces of the other girls. Amanda stiffened as she allowed Sapphire to give her a hug, but she did a good job of forcing a smile. The other girls reacted similarly, trying to be good sports in a difficult situation. Still, the shock they felt was as plain on their faces, as it was on most of those in the audience.
As for Haley Pruitt, she had not waited around to congratulate the winner. In tears, she dashed off the stage to be with her grandmother, who finally allowed herself to be escorted away from the judges’ table by Hopkins the butler. It was clear from his grim expression that he knew he was on shaky ground even touching his mistress, but she finally turned to him and gave him a hard nod. At that point, he released her, and with Haley in tow, the three of them had stormed from the building.