#bhsgossip

HONEY, HONEY, HONEY....

Oh, darlin’, now you know I ain’t one to go pokin’ my nose where it doesn’t belong — but if my nose just so happens to catch a whiff of somethin’ fishy, well, what am I supposed to do, plug it up?

Now, Montana Buchanan sneakin’ out of Ken Sutton’s RV? At that hour? Honey, she’s been slippin’ around this way and that way for a little while now, and I can’t say I like the sound of it. We all know Tanny’s got a heart as big as the state, bless it, but ever since she came back from tryin’ to make it big in the city, she’s been actin’ like a stray lookin’ for a place to land. And Ken? Well, that child's as tight-lipped as a jar of molasses in January. If she wasn’t up to nothin’, why’d she go scurryin’ off like a spooked rabbit?

Now, if I were her, I’d be takin’ a stroll through the park, clearin’ my head, or maybe tendin’ her poor mama, Loretta. That woman’s been havin’ a rough go of it lately — and last I checked, Ken Sutton wasn’t exactly a certified grief counselor. But hey, I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation. Maybe she was just borrowin’ some sugar. Or, y’know, somethin’ a little sweeter.

SHH, YOU KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!

Sugar, that place has been creakin’ and crackin’ like a house of horrors ever since Doc Folayan set up shop! I swear it, no, I SWEAR it, you walk past that clinic after dark and you’ll hear noises that’d put a haunted hayride to shame. Like what? Well, y’know, like… Oh, don’t you make me say it out loud! My poor heart can only take so much!

But let me tell you, sweetie, it ain’t just those walls that’ll give you the shivers. Doc Folayan? Oh, bless his heart — that man’s got the bedside manner of a funeral director and eyes that look like they’ve seen what’s waiting in the hereafter. Bless it, folks keep swearing by his tonics and remedies, but I once drank one of his “calming elixirs” and ended up hiccupping smoke for a week!

Now that you mention it, though, I have been hearin’ he’s been lockin’ those doors tighter than a preacher’s wallet at a casino. No appointments after dark, no exceptions. What’s he cookin’ up in there? Some kind of miracle cure? Or maybe he’s just tryin’ to keep that pet poltergeist of his from skippin' town!

HOO-WEE!!!

Now, now, now, I ain't one for CONJECTURE, only cold hard facts settle well with me. But this? Miss Alaina Birchwood, hauntin' them there woods and floatin' like somethin' straight outta a horror film? That I best know with all of soul.

Some people are haunted by ghosts, demons, memories, what-could-have-been's. But, there's very few who are the haunting. This ain't the first we've heard of Miss Laney bein'...an odd duck. Yeah, let's say it like that. Rumor has it she didn't say a single word until she got to secondary school. Some people claim they see her floatin' head in their dreams, only to wake up to find she left somethin' on their porch. Hell, I've heard some folks at the Fishin' Post blamin' her on days they ain't gettin' any bites, like she's some kind of an angry deity.

Miss Laney is a hauntin' of a woman, but we gotta ask ourselves.. what can we do when it's just her spirit? If we try to interfere, would she smite us, release some kinda hell upon us? Or, would we just have a young woman tied to a tree as we have Pastor Tanaka flick some water at her face?

OH, BLESS MY STARS!

Not little baby Montana Buchanan, thinking herself all grown up now to have herself a little boyfriend! Lord, I remember when she barely came up to the knee and rode the family dog halfway up to the Church before her daddy caught wind of her, rest his soul! But what’s this you’re saying, honey? City boy? Now, let me think here for a second — what kind of city boy would little Miss Buchanan be—

OH, BLESS MY STARS, TWICE!

You’re not telling me it’s Haruto Uehara’s boy — Hiro?! Why, weren’t we just talking about that boy and little Josie Sutton not too long ago? Bless it! That heartbreaker’s gonna have these girls lined up with broken hearts from here to Clover Creek Ranch if we don’t do nothing about it!

Now, you didn’t hear it from me, but… word is, he’s been getting real cozy with a certain someone down in our little Springs. And if you ask me, it won’t be long before Tanny’s brothers get wind of it and make sure he knows just what a Buchanan handshake feels like…

LORD, MERCY ME!

The nerve of some folks, hollerin’ and carryin’ on like wild animals in the Lord’s own forest! And at Josie Sutton, no less—That girl is barely five foot with her boots on! She don’t need to be dealin’ with wild men and their temper tantrums! I do hope you stepped in, sugar. Or at least hollered back! ’Cause I’ll tell you what, if I ever saw someone barkin’ up that tree, I’d march myself right down there with a wooden spoon and a hymnbook.

But now... between you and me and the Springs? That little sugarplum’s got more grit than she lets on. I’ve seen her sweet-talk the socks off a snake oil salesman come one Night Market, and plumb talked Granny out of her last slice of cherry pie. So if she ended up in a tree? I wouldn’t be surprised if she put herself there just to make a scene look good. Horns hold up halos, honey!

Still—someone oughta check on that boy. If he was fool enough to yell at Josie Sutton in public, well... bless it. He don’t know what kinda mess he’s made.

OH, BLESS IT!

My heart just about leapt out my chest readin' that!

That poor Uehara boy, all cooped up in that little van… I mean, I knew he was makin' do, but I didn’t think he was rattlin' around like a can in a storm drain! You don’t think he’s got mice in there, do you? Or worse—is he mournin’ that poor grandmother of his, all by his lonesome?! Oh, bless him, I do hope he wasn’t havin’ some sort of breakdown!

Now I do believe in mindin’ your own, but I also believe in checkin’ on your neighbors. We are a community! A web of hands, reachin' out and liftin' up! Th’next time you find yourself passin’ by the Uehara's road and that van’s a-rockin’, you got my full blessing to go knock and check on him. He could be havin’ a spell! Or a fit! Oh, that poor, sweet dear.

HOO-WEE!!!

Now, ain't that a kicker? One of our newest city-slickers-turned-country, Val, is tryin' to pull a fast one here on us in the Springs! Did I hear that, right? Turnin' people's poor, innocent creatures away if your face don't fit that golden ratio up in her noggin? Here I thought that kinda drama only happened at the Stag during Happy Hour.

Lucky for me, this ol' face didn't get rejected when I brought my sweet cockatoo Gizzard in for a lil' maintenance but the rest of y'all may need to learn how to spay your fluffy friends if that's the case.

Come to think of it...that seems awful silly, don't it? She ain't been 'round these parts for long, but she seems a lil' too straight laced for some kinda nonsense like refusin' service for your unfortunate face, but you never know a person's character until they let you in.

But, you didn't hear it from me!

OH MY STARS.

You're tellin' me that—get closer now, sugar!—you're tellin' me that Amelia Hiatt, sweet little Molly, the librarian, was caught smokin’ outside the library? And during storytime, no less?! That’s a boldness I haven’t seen since the Happy Apple tried to deep fry butter at the bake sale. In fact, I couldn't believe that if ya dangled a photo of it right before my eyes! You... you don’t have a photo, do you? No?

Now, y’didn’t hear it from me, but I happen to know that girl’s been under a heapin’ helpin’ of pressure since she rolled into our dear lil’ Springs. Word is, she came here to escape something—an ex? A secret job? Or heavens help us all… a double life? I knew her handwriting was too neat for a simple public servant. Are we the quiet little town she’s chosen for a fresh start... or are we the last stop before she disappears for good?

One thing’s for sure: next time I check out a cookbook, I’ll be flippin’ through it real careful—might be a burner phone tucked between them biscuit recipes.