The Three Marketeers

 

"We'll corner the market!" Dorothy exclaimed.
      "I don't know," Teresa, ever the skeptic, replied.
      "What do you mean?" Myra asked, her face blank. Because Myra starred directly between Dorothy and Teresa, and because her query was vague, neither of the other two women knew how to respond.
      "What do you mean?" Teresa asked of Myra.
      "Huh?" Myra replied.
      "She said: 'What do you mean?'" Dorothy repeated Teresa's question, sounding frustrated by Myra's diversion.
      "Me?" Myra asked, growing ever more confused.
      "Myra, keep up," Teresa sternly stated. She thought about saying: "Myra, shut up," but thought "keep up" may have the same effect.
      Myra almost said: "Keep up with what?" However, Dorothy moved swiftly and cupped her hand over Myra's mouth.
      The three fifty-something year old women sat around the kitchen table in Dorothy's home, sipping cups of decaf.
      "I think we'll corner the market." Dorothy stepped back to the point in the discussion prior to Myra's interruption.
      "I just don't know. I'm just not so sure." Teresa looked over the top of her glasses directly at Dorothy as she spoke.
      "Well, why don't we check things out?" Dorothy suggested
      "What do you mean?" Teresa asked.
      "Check things out," Dorothy repeated.
      Teresa, irritated, shot back with: "I heard what you said, I just don't know what you mean."
      "I mean, why don't we do some snooping around and see who's buying what. That way I am sure you will see that there's a market out there. Right here," Dorothy confidently pronounced.
      Teresa sat silently for several seconds, contemplating Dorothy's suggestion. Before she could speak again, Myra let out a ferocious screech. She leaped out of her chair and jumped away from the table at the same time.
      Startled, both Teresa and Dorothy each bolted upright in their respective chairs as if choreographed.
      "What the hell?" Teresa asked, looking at the nearly dazed and clearly stunned Myra.
      Flicking her arm with her finger pointing at the table top, Myra directed the attention of the other two woman.
      "Oh Lord," Teresa moaned. "It's a moth. It's just a little miller moth."
      With a wave of her hand, like a Vegas magician, Teresa shooed away the wayward insect.
      Myra, embarrassed, blushed scarlet as she retook her seat. She looked around the room to try and see where the moth flew off to after being chased away.
      "So?" Dorothy asked, speaking to Teresa.
      "What?" Teresa asked.
      "So?" repeated Dorothy.
      "So what?" Teresa tersely asked.
      "So," Dorothy replied. "So do you want to check things out?"
      Teresa picked up her thoughts where she left off before Myra screamed at the sight of the little fluttering bug.
      Finally, Teresa said: "Yes."
      "Yes?" Dorothy asked, confirming Teresa's commitment.
      "Yes. Let's."
      "When?" Dorothy asked.
      "Tomorrow," Teresa replied.
      "In the morning?" Dorothy thought that might be the best time of day to run reconnaissance.
      "Is that a good time to see what people are buying?" Teresa asked. "Wouldn't they be more likely to be buying the stuff later in the day.
      In this instance, Dorothy sat quietly for a moment, pondering.
      "Yes," Dorothy finally responded.
      "Yes?" Teresa asked.
      "Yes," Dorothy said. She then clarified and added that she thought the afternoon would be a better time. "Late afternoon," she added.
      "Fine," Teresa agreed, the solitary word bonding the plan.
      "Myra, are you in?" Dorothy asked.
      "In what?" Myra asked, even then paying only partial attention to the tabletop conversation.
      "In," Dorothy said a second time.
      "With us," Teresa interjected.
      "Huh?" Myra, bordering on dumfounded questioned.
      "With the plan." Teresa thought about reaching across the table and giving Myra a snappy slap.
      "Oh yeah," Myra matter-of-factly shrugged.
      "Let's meet here tomorrow, say at three in the afternoon," Dorothy suggested, referring to re-congregating the following day at her home.
      "Good," Teresa said, sounding all the more like a schoolteacher rounding out the day's lessons.
      Plans made, Dorothy got up from her place at the kitchen table, walked over to a counter next to the fridge where she had placed a freshly backed double layer chocolate cake before the other women arrived that day. She set the cake in the center of the table, retrieved three plates, forks and a large knife.
      "Cake?" she offered, slicing three servings.
      With healthy slices of dessert in front of each woman, they took off gossiping about the goings-on and doings in and about town. The tittle-tattle gaggle lasted for over an hour.
      "You know," Dorothy said, after a discussion of the Church of Christ's minister's dalliances with Bobbi Lynn Womper. "We can grow the stuff right here, just behind where I plant corn every year."
      Dorothy planted an extensive garden on the acreage she and her husband owned on the edge of town.
      "You know, I can do the same," Teresa noted, having a similar vegetable cultivation construct at her own home.
      Myra sat silently, occasionally looking about the kitchen to see if she could spot the little gray moth a second time.
      "Myra?" Dorothy softly asked, desiring to avoid startling her friend.
      "What about you?" Teresa, speaking more bluntly, asked of Myra.
      "Hmm?" Myra responded.
      "What do you think?" Teresa asked once more.
      Dorothy, realizing that Myra was not paying close attention, asked her more specifically if she thought she could plant some of their planned product in her own garden.
      "Oh sure," she agreed, nonplused.
      "We'll make a bunch of money," boasted Dorothy.
      Teresa smiled, silently agreeing.
      Teresa wrapped the session when she announced she needed to get home and get dinner in the oven for her husband. On that cue, Dorothy and Myra both realized that they needed to do the same.
      "Tomorrow then," Dorothy called out from her porch, waving goodbye to Teresa and Myra.

Tuesday, the appointed day when the trio of women were to stalk off and begin their undercover operation, dawned drizzling and unseasonably cold, even for the Spring in Iowa. Dorothy was afraid that the foul weather might cause a cancellation of the plans to surreptitiously survey buys downtown.
      She telephoned Teresa, who advised that she had been tuned into the Weather Channel and that the rain would let up before noon.
      At the appointed hour, Teresa and Myra arrived at Dorothy's house at almost the same time, Myra showing up first.
      "Are you ready?" Dorothy asked.
      "Ready?" Myra replied. "For what?"
      Before Dorothy could answer, Teresa was at the door, letting herself into the house without buzzing the ringer.
      "Let's get moving," Teresa announced, just over the threshold.
      "Moving?" Myra asked.
      Dorothy grabbed Myra by the arm and led her out of the house, directly behind Teresa.
      "Put these on," Teresa said, handing each of the women a pair of Walmart sunglasses.
      "What are these for?" Myra asked, eyeing the shades suspiciously.
      Teresa groaned. "So we don't get recognized."
      "Oh." Myra shrugged and climbed into the backseat of Teresa's Mercury Grand Marquis.
      In ten minutes, they reached Main Street and the planned site for their stakeout.
      "Look!" Myra squealed from the rear seat. "There's Mary Kay!"
      "Shush up," Teresa scolded. "We're under cover, don't ya know?"
      "Oh yeah," Myra responded, slumping down in the seat.
      "So what do we do now?" Dorothy asked, uncertain as to what steps the ladies needed to take now that they were almost at the spot where they could see purchases being made.
      "You don't think Mary Kay's buying?" Myra asked.
      "Probably," Teresa snapped.
      "Everybody's doing it," Dorothy added.
      Myra gasped.
      "That's why we can make a killing," Teresa said, rubbing her hands together like a mad scientist amping up mysterious electrical equipment.
      "We'll corner the market by growing it ourselves," Dorothy proudly piped.
      "Let's move out, then," Teresa said, directing the women out of the car and across the street.
      "Be very quiet," Dorothy said, as they entered the building where they assumed various and sundry transactions were taking place.
      "Follow me." Teresa pushed in front and led Dorothy and Myra into the building, taking care to avoid contact with anyone else who might be inside. "I know exactly where we need to be to get a good look at who's buying."
      In a couple of minutes, the women nestled themselves behind a stack of boxes, giving them a good vantage point from which to watch who was picking up what.
      Myra gasped, causing Teresa to swiftly yet quietly chastise her.
      Myra whispered in reply: "But you were right. There's Mary Kay. And she's getting white ones."
      The women spent ten minutes viewing the comings and goings from their hiding place. During that time, a baker's dozen made purchases. Some bought whites. Some purchased reds. A couple glommed onto yellows.
      "Let's get out of here," Teresa said with dispatch. "Before anyone sees us and figures out what we're doing."
      In no time the women were back in Teresa's car, breathing heavily being winded by the adventure.
      "See what I mean?" Dorothy said, once she caught her breath.
      "We'll make a killing," Teresa replied.
      "We'll corner the market."
      Teresa flicked the ignition key, turning over her car's engine. The women drove down Main Street and away from McElroy's Market, the grocery store they staked out.
      When they reached Dorothy's house, they filled empty egg cartons with potting soil and planted seeds. They wanted the seedlings to be well rising in time to place outside in their gardens when planting time arrived.
      "Just think," Dorothy said. "We'll corner the market."
      Teresa nodded. "We'll have red ones, white ones, even yellow ones," she said.
      "All kinds of onions," Dorothy agreed with a broad smile.