Mavis was pretty easy-going. Not much ever bothered her, except Evie, the woman who lived two doors down. It was a quiet little neighborhood on a shady street with big oaks and mimosas everywhere. Most of the houses were painted white a long time ago, but now were tinted a yellowish color. Back in those days, every one sat out on their front porches in the evenings, shelling peas or gossiping, or both. Evening breezes carried honeysuckle/wisteria sweetness and moss hung heavy in the trees. Dog days were in full blast.
The thing that really got Mavis was Evie’s way of one-upping her at anything that was discussed. Whatever she could do, Evie could do better. If Mavis talked about her fantastic key-lime pie, Evie would immediately start in on all the blue ribbons she’d won in cooking contests. And if Mavis showed off her latest effort in crocheting, Evie would drag out her needlepoint on satin.
One extremely humid and hot afternoon, Mavis was out in the yard on her knees, pulling weeds. If it weren’t for the sandspurs, it was the ants. This job got worse and worse.
And when the blackberries had started running in early summer, they ran all over.Those runners were all over and under the azalea bushes. By seven that evening, she had the yard looking good. Even swept off the porch for good measure. Still, when she went to walk her little dog, Sugar, she noticed that the hedges in Evie’s yard were cut perfectly. The lawn was properly edged and marigolds were blooming lavishly.
In Mavis’s head, she was going to do all this fixing up, planting, mulching, mowing, etc. But all that working out in the heat just did her in. The next day, instead of putting her plan into action, she piled up on the davenport most of the afternoon. She had to put linament on her knees and wrists and elbows while she fumed about how to finally outdo Evie. Meanwhile, her dog, Sugar, was just as happy as can be, laid up there with her while she read romance novels. Why, Mavis was so tired, she didn’t even get up when the ice cream truck went by. Sugar loved to bark at the ice cream man. This made him so mad he secretly peed on the carpet behind the umbrella stand.
And down the street, Evie was doing a home perm while drinking vodka martinis, a dangerous combination. Being of inherent short attention span, she sat down and began to listen to mystery stories on the radio, completely forgetting about the setting lotion on her hair. By the time she remembered, she was totally frizzed. Her black dye job had faded and when you stood back a little, it looked like smoke was coming up out of her head. Since she was already tipsy, it didn’t faze her too much. Later that evening, when it was nice and cool, she joined her neighbors on her front porch.
“I can smell that permanent lotion from here. I don’t mind it - it kind of clears out my sinus passages,” commented the elderly gentleman who lived in between Mavis and Evie.
“Reminds me of the time my tires caught fire,” added his wife.
About then, Mavis heaved herself up off the davenport and went out to sit on her porch. When she saw Evie, she got a big smile on her face. Evie was sitting there in her rocker like nothing was wrong. But, you couldn’t miss the disaster above her face. About that time,Mavis got a sparkling gleam in her eye. It was her time to out do. “You think you fried your hair? Last year I cooked mine clean off!” she bragged.
“That’s right!” added the elderly gentleman. “Looked like a burnt onion!”
