Part 7
After a while my own name is called out and I can only guess exactly what this means. It means that Miz Tanya Bledsoe has erroneously given the detectives my own name as one of the last people to see Lil ‘Lanta. I’m beginning to believe that the pageant mommies are right and that Tanya has pulled some sort of stunt in an attempt to disrupt the pageant. I sigh, getting up from my chair slowly, feeling my old bones creak from having sat motionless for a while. The young cop waits for me to make my way to the door impassively, the expression on his face giving away nothing. As I pass Sam she grabs one of my hands, squeezes it and whispers, “Go get ‘em, tell ‘em what a stupid lying bitch Tanya is..”
I follow the young man through the hallway, across the lobby and over to the meeting rooms. We pass the room that holds my inventory of pinata diarrhea and Giselle. Giselle sticks her head out and gives me a look, a look that indicates to me that the cops have talked to her already and she’s afraid for me. I can also see that the contents of our room are in a massive disarray, so they’ve searched the sales room already. I have to wonder even more what Tanya has told them. Lord help us all.
As we walk along I have to reflect the first time I met Tanya. She came to my shop, all breathless and excited, looking for a fully crinolined dress for a one year old and asking me if I thought hair extensions were too much on a baby. She was also looking for someone who would dye her baby’s naturally brown hair to a golden in time for the next big national pageant. The thing I remember the most is that she was exhausting, I’d traipsed around after her in the shop going “No Ma’am, yes Ma’am”
I realize as my escort opens a door that the detectives have taken over the other Mr. Steve’s hair and makeup room. Oh, he’s going to be pissed off. It’s the smallest of all the meeting rooms here and was cram packed with every conceivable type of makeup and hair appliance. As I enter I see the detectives have roughly pushed aside his careful array of makeup, looks like they just swept it with one arm into the cardboard box on the floor. I smile just imaging the fit Steve’s going to have. He’s notorious for wanting things just so, lining up everything in a certain order and by color, as if it’s a giant living palette.
Detectives Hull and Naquin are sitting at the makeshift makeup table, heads together comparing notes. As I step up I notice that Hull is eyeing me, sizing me up from head to toe with a sharp glance, dissecting me already in her mind. Naquin indicates I’m to sit and so I do as they say a few opening pleasantries. But before long they get down to the real reason I’m here.
“Ms. Arceneaux, you’re aware of why we’ve called you in, , aren’t you?” Agent Naquin asked, his green eyes honing in on my light brown ones, seeking to see if I’m going to lie to him. I smile sadly and reply, “Because Atlanta Bledsoe is missing and her mother probably told you I was one of the last people to see her.”
Detective Hull leans back in her chair, tapping a pencil idly against her leg and frowns before stating, “She said you were the last one to see her daughter, not one of the last ones..you wanna explain that?” I have to snort in derision at Tanya’s accusations, “Oh please, that woman is completely delusional.. what happened was this, she called me over to where she and ‘Lanta were, over to the side of the ballroom. ‘Lanta’s dress had been donned too quickly and it was twisted around her. I came over, straighten the lines of the dress, adjusted it minutely while Tanya Bledsoe complained about everything under the sun. I got up and walked away and they went backstage for beauty, passing by at least a dozen other pageant mommies, both of the Mr. Steves and the pageant director and backstage people. I’m sure we were in full view of the judges as well. She disappeared into the backstage area with the child. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I never went backstage, I wasn’t the last one with the child and that actually I went to the back of the ballroom to watch the beauty competition because I wanted to see how the dresses I’d designed recently looked under the stage lights.”
Agent Naquin is busy writing, taking notes on what I’ve said as Hull looks hard at me, like she finds me loathsome and says, “Who would be backstage at a thing like this?“ I shrug and reply, “Lots of people could be backstage, from the mothers to the coaches to the hair and makeup people doing last second adjustments, photographers, the pageant emcee.. Find out who was backstage and you’ll find who snatched that child... that’s if someone did..are you entirely sure she didn‘t just wander away from her mother. Tanya drives that child pretty relentlessly. Perhaps she‘s sleeping off the sugar rush from a can of Red Bull. Tanya usually gives her some sort of chemical pick me up before talent, Red Bull, Double Shot Expresso and sometimes a tiny corner from her diet pills so ’Lanta might be crashed somewhere sleeping..”
They both stare at me, temporarily horrified by the thought of a mother using chemicals, prescription or not, to cause a child to behave differently for a pageant. Naquin speaks first, “Are you serious? She’s giving the girl one of her precrips?” I smile sickly, “Yeah, well it’s pretty common way of doing things for the mommas that don’t give a damn about anything but the win for their kid. Tanya’s one of those. Do you know that the other mothers in the ballroom are speculating that she created the story of Atlanta being missing to disrupt the pageant since Atlanta was doing so poorly in the earlier parts of the pageant. She’s pulled a boatload of underhanded stunts through the years and you’d have to go a long way to find another person on the pageant circuit as disliked as Tanya Bledsoe”
A piece of paper gets shoved in front of me as Detective Hull asks, “Like this? Is this typical?”
I scan the paper, reading quickly.
The Seafarers Miss Mermaid pageant was a disgrace to the pageant world. The prizes were not what was advertised and no I am not referring to the 15 dollar beauty win. I mean the 1/2 inch crowns and the photo frames and the dollar sashes for a Mini National, is this director serious? It did run on time that was a plus but it was a very long day. The schedule was wacked. I think the directors selection in judges was horrible. They knew absolutely nothing about what they were talking about and their comments proved it. Their scores further evidenced my point. There was a huge variance in scores, children would get 9.8 from one judge and 7.1 from another, how are we to know what they were looking for? I questioned a judge in the ballroom and when I asked what did she mean by a certain comment she said oh I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Why bother coming to crowning if you can not justify why you scored a contestant a certain score or have any CORRECTIVE criticism. I use the term corrective loosely because the comments were harsh. Sometimes the truth can hurt and it may be an eye opener but their comments written were just plain wrong. We paid good money for this pageant and my daughter won $15.00. The win did not feel like a win, the crown was a 3 inch crown, I felt like I was at a Sunburst Prelim and we all know how that goes. Needless to say we will not be returning and will not recommend the system to any others. If her intention was to prove street children could win against well seasoned pageant kids, then she did that however she ruined her reputation as a director. I do not think one person in the ballroom thought the winners were "on" even the mothers of the contestants that won were shocked their children won. That's saying something. One day someone’s gonna get sick of her shit and there will be real hell to pay. I hope it’s soon.
“Yes, I hear some grumbling about the Seafarers pageant. I didn’t attend so I can’t tell you first hand what occurred but I do know that many were extremely pissed off by the outcome.” The man looked thoughtfully over at the lady detective and for a fleeting second I thought I caught the barest glimmer of something between them, something smoldering and hot but the next second it was back to business as Agent Naquin baldly stated, “You wanna give us a handwriting sample and the key to your hotel room?” I laughed, long and hard, before fishing the electronic key to my suite out of my bag and gasping, “Oh detective you are so barking up the wrong tree if you think I had anything to do with ‘Lanta’s disappearance. Personally I do not give a rats ass what happens to these pageant folks, from Tanya to the next one. I only care that their money is as green as everyone else’s. Long green and spends, that’s all. Another couple of years I’ll sell my shop and retire. Move somewhere that is warm and do what I want, raise orchids, read, take long walks on the beach..” I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, punch drunk with fatigue and tension, and I reach forth to try and take that pencil from Detective Hull as I giggle out, “I wasn’t even at Seafarer but I’ll give you a writing sample because I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” I’m so tired I’m lapsing back into 9th Ward ghettoese. Agent Naquin makes a small face to indicate he finds none of this amusing before saying, “Don’t fuck with my cha cha... get out of here..”
I follow the young man through the hallway, across the lobby and over to the meeting rooms. We pass the room that holds my inventory of pinata diarrhea and Giselle. Giselle sticks her head out and gives me a look, a look that indicates to me that the cops have talked to her already and she’s afraid for me. I can also see that the contents of our room are in a massive disarray, so they’ve searched the sales room already. I have to wonder even more what Tanya has told them. Lord help us all.
As we walk along I have to reflect the first time I met Tanya. She came to my shop, all breathless and excited, looking for a fully crinolined dress for a one year old and asking me if I thought hair extensions were too much on a baby. She was also looking for someone who would dye her baby’s naturally brown hair to a golden in time for the next big national pageant. The thing I remember the most is that she was exhausting, I’d traipsed around after her in the shop going “No Ma’am, yes Ma’am”
I realize as my escort opens a door that the detectives have taken over the other Mr. Steve’s hair and makeup room. Oh, he’s going to be pissed off. It’s the smallest of all the meeting rooms here and was cram packed with every conceivable type of makeup and hair appliance. As I enter I see the detectives have roughly pushed aside his careful array of makeup, looks like they just swept it with one arm into the cardboard box on the floor. I smile just imaging the fit Steve’s going to have. He’s notorious for wanting things just so, lining up everything in a certain order and by color, as if it’s a giant living palette.
Detectives Hull and Naquin are sitting at the makeshift makeup table, heads together comparing notes. As I step up I notice that Hull is eyeing me, sizing me up from head to toe with a sharp glance, dissecting me already in her mind. Naquin indicates I’m to sit and so I do as they say a few opening pleasantries. But before long they get down to the real reason I’m here.
“Ms. Arceneaux, you’re aware of why we’ve called you in, , aren’t you?” Agent Naquin asked, his green eyes honing in on my light brown ones, seeking to see if I’m going to lie to him. I smile sadly and reply, “Because Atlanta Bledsoe is missing and her mother probably told you I was one of the last people to see her.”
Detective Hull leans back in her chair, tapping a pencil idly against her leg and frowns before stating, “She said you were the last one to see her daughter, not one of the last ones..you wanna explain that?” I have to snort in derision at Tanya’s accusations, “Oh please, that woman is completely delusional.. what happened was this, she called me over to where she and ‘Lanta were, over to the side of the ballroom. ‘Lanta’s dress had been donned too quickly and it was twisted around her. I came over, straighten the lines of the dress, adjusted it minutely while Tanya Bledsoe complained about everything under the sun. I got up and walked away and they went backstage for beauty, passing by at least a dozen other pageant mommies, both of the Mr. Steves and the pageant director and backstage people. I’m sure we were in full view of the judges as well. She disappeared into the backstage area with the child. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I never went backstage, I wasn’t the last one with the child and that actually I went to the back of the ballroom to watch the beauty competition because I wanted to see how the dresses I’d designed recently looked under the stage lights.”
Agent Naquin is busy writing, taking notes on what I’ve said as Hull looks hard at me, like she finds me loathsome and says, “Who would be backstage at a thing like this?“ I shrug and reply, “Lots of people could be backstage, from the mothers to the coaches to the hair and makeup people doing last second adjustments, photographers, the pageant emcee.. Find out who was backstage and you’ll find who snatched that child... that’s if someone did..are you entirely sure she didn‘t just wander away from her mother. Tanya drives that child pretty relentlessly. Perhaps she‘s sleeping off the sugar rush from a can of Red Bull. Tanya usually gives her some sort of chemical pick me up before talent, Red Bull, Double Shot Expresso and sometimes a tiny corner from her diet pills so ’Lanta might be crashed somewhere sleeping..”
They both stare at me, temporarily horrified by the thought of a mother using chemicals, prescription or not, to cause a child to behave differently for a pageant. Naquin speaks first, “Are you serious? She’s giving the girl one of her precrips?” I smile sickly, “Yeah, well it’s pretty common way of doing things for the mommas that don’t give a damn about anything but the win for their kid. Tanya’s one of those. Do you know that the other mothers in the ballroom are speculating that she created the story of Atlanta being missing to disrupt the pageant since Atlanta was doing so poorly in the earlier parts of the pageant. She’s pulled a boatload of underhanded stunts through the years and you’d have to go a long way to find another person on the pageant circuit as disliked as Tanya Bledsoe”
A piece of paper gets shoved in front of me as Detective Hull asks, “Like this? Is this typical?”
I scan the paper, reading quickly.
The Seafarers Miss Mermaid pageant was a disgrace to the pageant world. The prizes were not what was advertised and no I am not referring to the 15 dollar beauty win. I mean the 1/2 inch crowns and the photo frames and the dollar sashes for a Mini National, is this director serious? It did run on time that was a plus but it was a very long day. The schedule was wacked. I think the directors selection in judges was horrible. They knew absolutely nothing about what they were talking about and their comments proved it. Their scores further evidenced my point. There was a huge variance in scores, children would get 9.8 from one judge and 7.1 from another, how are we to know what they were looking for? I questioned a judge in the ballroom and when I asked what did she mean by a certain comment she said oh I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Why bother coming to crowning if you can not justify why you scored a contestant a certain score or have any CORRECTIVE criticism. I use the term corrective loosely because the comments were harsh. Sometimes the truth can hurt and it may be an eye opener but their comments written were just plain wrong. We paid good money for this pageant and my daughter won $15.00. The win did not feel like a win, the crown was a 3 inch crown, I felt like I was at a Sunburst Prelim and we all know how that goes. Needless to say we will not be returning and will not recommend the system to any others. If her intention was to prove street children could win against well seasoned pageant kids, then she did that however she ruined her reputation as a director. I do not think one person in the ballroom thought the winners were "on" even the mothers of the contestants that won were shocked their children won. That's saying something. One day someone’s gonna get sick of her shit and there will be real hell to pay. I hope it’s soon.
“Yes, I hear some grumbling about the Seafarers pageant. I didn’t attend so I can’t tell you first hand what occurred but I do know that many were extremely pissed off by the outcome.” The man looked thoughtfully over at the lady detective and for a fleeting second I thought I caught the barest glimmer of something between them, something smoldering and hot but the next second it was back to business as Agent Naquin baldly stated, “You wanna give us a handwriting sample and the key to your hotel room?” I laughed, long and hard, before fishing the electronic key to my suite out of my bag and gasping, “Oh detective you are so barking up the wrong tree if you think I had anything to do with ‘Lanta’s disappearance. Personally I do not give a rats ass what happens to these pageant folks, from Tanya to the next one. I only care that their money is as green as everyone else’s. Long green and spends, that’s all. Another couple of years I’ll sell my shop and retire. Move somewhere that is warm and do what I want, raise orchids, read, take long walks on the beach..” I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, punch drunk with fatigue and tension, and I reach forth to try and take that pencil from Detective Hull as I giggle out, “I wasn’t even at Seafarer but I’ll give you a writing sample because I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” I’m so tired I’m lapsing back into 9th Ward ghettoese. Agent Naquin makes a small face to indicate he finds none of this amusing before saying, “Don’t fuck with my cha cha... get out of here..”
posted by Blues In The Night | 6:25 AM
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