“Boomer” Winfrey
Varmint County Correspondent

I meandered down to Doc Clyde Filstrup’s clinic last Friday night for his weekly poker game and political bull session.

As you might recall, my publisher at the War Whoop & Exterminator fronts me cash to buy into the game so I can get the inside scoop on Varmint County’s political scene.

“Here’s one of the turncoats, now!” mortician Clyde Filstrup Junior, who is also the County Mayor, proclaimed as I entered the smoke-filled room.

“Now son, don’t be too hard on him. He has no control over his boss,” Clyde Senior countered, “This is a time for us men to stick together, not go raggin’ on each other.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why am I a turncoat?” I pleaded.

“You’ve not heard? My wife, Clyde’s wife Matilda, and several other prominent females, have started having their own so-called ‘poker night’ while we’re down here at Doc’s, and it’s all your boss Virginia Hamm’s doing. She instigated it and they’re meeting right now down at your newspaper office,” retired Sheriff Smoky T. Bandit explained.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “So? I mean, what’re they going to do, trade recipes, discuss gardening tips or gossip about Fluvia Pinetar’s new boyfriend?”

“You don’t get it, do you, boy? Virginia’s got all our wives collected in one spot while we’re playing cards and mapping out the political future of Varmint County. Also in their group is State Representative “Tooney” Pyles, Archie’s daughter Coach Gabby Aslinger and Tooney’s cousin Camilla Clotfelter. They’re not talkin’ gardens, they’re talkin’ politics!” Judge Hugh Ray Jass whispered.

“How do you know they’re talking politics and what if they are?” I countered.

“I asked my wife Belinda what kind of card games they planned to play and if they had a name for their little club,” Sheriff Smoky added. “She said they’ve decided to call themselves the ‘Jones Girls’ after Mother Jones.”

“That’s not good,” Doc cut in.

“I know. I asked her who Mother Jones was and Belinda gave me this look, like I was an idiot. Told me to ask around.”

“Mother Jones was an old union organizer in the West Virginia coalfields way back in the 1920s,” Doc explained. “She once led a bunch of miners’ wives to protest some big gathering of politicians where the Governor was speaking. He stopped his speech long enough to address the women who had barged through the door to the convention hall.

“‘You ladies in the back are welcome to come in and have a seat as long as you’re not disruptive,’ the Governor said.

“Mother Jones stood up and replied, ‘Ladies hell! We’re not ladies. God made us women. The Rockefeller gang of thieves made the ladies,’” Doc concluded.

“We are in so much trouble,” Judge Hugh Ray proclaimed.

“Now, now. Maybe it won’t be so bad. I mean, what can our wives possibly cook up that will have any effect on us and the way things are run around here?” Clyde Junior asked. “Since his editor instigated all this, I think the reporter ought to go down to his newspaper and do a little snooping around, find out what they’re up to.”

And so yours truly was exiled from the poker game, sent packing back to the War Whoop & Exterminator to spy on the Jones Girls. My plan was to simply say the poker game ended early and I decided to come by the office and type my weekly column before heading home, then keep my ear to the door of Virginia’s conference room.

“Ha! The poker game ended early? Not likely. They sent you down here to spy on us, didn’t they?” Belinda Bandit replied when I offered my cover story.

“Come on in and have a seat. We have nothing to hide and you can be one of the girls tonight,” Tooney Pyles added to a chorus of giggles.

“You might find our card game a little lame compared to Doc’s poker parties,” my boss Ginnie Hamm cut in. “We’re playing pinochle and not for money.”

“That’s alright. I don’t know how to play that, anyway. I’ll just sit and watch,” I offered.

“OK, back to what we were talking about,” Ginnie continued. “We’re all agreed that not enough women in Varmint County are in positions of power. We need more women to run for office.”

“Simply running for office isn’t enough. The men control the decisions and the spending behind closed doors, at Doc’s little card games and other get-togethers out of the public eye,” Belinda Bandit countered. “I’m on the county court and I tell you ninety percent of the votes are already decided before we meet in public.”

“That’s because they control a majority of the court. We need more women to run for the court, then decisions wouldn’t be made in the back room,” Tooney observed.

“So who’s going to run for office? I’m already on the court but I need help if we’re going to change things at all,” Belinda argued.

“Matilda, are you willing to run?”

“Gawd no, honey. Clyde and I argue enough as it is. If I was to serve on the county court while he’s still the Mayor, I might end up killing him with his own gavel,” Matilda Filstrup declined. “I’ll work hard to get anyone else elected, though. I’ll even work to get a woman elected as County Mayor if you can find someone to run against my husband.”

“How about you, Gabby? Why don’t you run for squire? As coach of the Varmint County Lady Vipers, you’d be a shoo-in to win,” Belinda asked.

“I’ll think about it, but that’s not really my cup of tea,” Gabby Aslinger replied. “Hey, what about Penny Haig? She’s the most popular young woman to ever come out of Varmint County.”

“I thought Penny was playing college basketball over in the Carolinas somewhere. Isn’t she still in school?” Matilda Filstrup asked.

“Unfortunately, that knee injury hasn’t healed like she expected. I talked to Penny last week and she told me she don’t want to take scholarship money that she can’t earn because she’s injured. She’s planning to finish this semester, then take some time off, come home and work for awhile to earn money to finish college.”

“What a shame. She could have been an All-American if she’s stayed healthy. You actually think Penny would run for office?”

“She has ambition and she’s intelligent, if a little country, but that would play well here in Varmint County. I think she could be persuaded to run for something like county court or school board, and the Haigs alone could elect her. We could use our energy helping someone else,” Gabby pointed out.

“Well, you know, as much as I hate all the slimy politics down at the Capitol, I do plan to run for re-election to the legislature,” Tooney Pyles announced. “But what about my cousin Camilla? She would make a good county commissioner.”

“Huh? No, I’m more like the person working in the background to help out. I don’t think I want to be a politician,” Camilla Clotfelter stuttered.

“Come on, Camilla. It’ll be fun. You know we would all get out there and help you get elected, and once you got on county court, you would have, uh, a certain advantage when it came to getting your way,” Toony said.

“Look, I’m not a witch, despite what half the county believes. My granny cooked up potions and did spells and stuff, but I’m not her.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Belinda Bandit commented. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that half the county thinks you’re a witch and that includes other squires that might be against something you want if you’re on the court. In the back of their mind they’ll be thinking, ‘If I vote against her, all my hair might fall out tomorrow.’”

The card game went on for awhile like this, a little wine passed around, some of Fluvia Pinetar’s homemade brownies, more politics until the Jones Girls agreed to call it a night a bit early, go home and think about things until next week.

It being a Friday night, Doc’s poker game was still going strong, so I dutifully reported back on what I had seen and heard.

“Well, you’re right to be worried,” I told the poker crowd. “They are plotting a way to get more women to run for local offices like squire or school board. Clyde, your wife Matilda declined, said she might have to kill you if you were both in politics at the same time.”

“Ha! I knew my Matilda wouldn’t turn on me like that.”

“Of course she did say she would work to help other women candidates, even if one decided to run against you for mayor.”

“That’s preposterous! What woman could they get to run for mayor?”

“Well, I heard Penny Haig mentioned, as well as Camilla Clotfelter. Gabby Aslinger told ’em she would have to think about running for an office.”

“Oh, my! Junior, you wouldn’t stand a chance against Penny Haig if she was to run. Half the county loves her for being a basketball star and the other half would be afraid to vote against her and invite the wrath of her grandpa Elijah,” Doc laughed.

“What about Camilla Clotfelter? What office would that witch be interested in?” Lawyer Philbert McSwine asked.

“They were talking county court, but there’s a chance Camilla would just hang back and put curses and hexes on all the male incumbents instead.”

Well, whatever those women are cooking up, leave me out of your plans to counter them,” Sheriff Hiram Potts announced. “I warned my wife Stephanie that since she’s my chief deputy, she can’t get involved in politics unless she resigns first.”

“You told my little girl that?” Sheriff Smoky exclaimed to his son-in-law. “How did she take it, and more importantly why are you still standing?”

“She took it calmly. She pointed out that I got involved in local politics all the time and didn’t ask her permission. Then she sort of hinted that she might decide to run for office herself — my office.”

“If she does, I’ll have to support her,” Smoky pointed out. “She’s my little girl.”

“Gentlemen, stop and think,” Doc pointed out. “Already we are at each other’s throats and we don’t even know if our women are serious about taking over or not. But one thing we do know, they will take over if we don’t stick together.”

“Easy for you to say, Doc, you’re a widower. I have to go home and face Belinda,” Smoky pointed out. “It gets mighty cold out in the doghouse.”