A Body in the Backyard: #4

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine 

Myrtle finally found her keys, thrust one into the lock, and pushed at the door. The inside of her house was foggy with smoke. She muttered imprecations and hurried to the kitchen.  

Erma had a tissue over her nose and screeched, "Myrtle! Whatever you're getting out, leave it! It's not worth it! Save yourself!" 

It wasn't as if the house was burning down. But the ham was not turning out the way it was intended to. She yanked on the oven door and clouds of smoke billowed out. What had made the thing burn? She'd only had it in there a couple of hours or so-it shouldn't even be cooked yet. Myrtle frowned ferociously at the uncooperative ham, pulling it out of the oven and turning off the appliance.  

She turned to tell Erma that everything was once again under control and she was sure that Erma had other things to do. Erma, however, was already gone. Myrtle felt a niggling bit of worry that this might mean trouble. 

Myrtle studied the ham. Could it be salvaged at all? It looked like that glaze had burned for some reason. What if she cut off the glaze and then sliced the ham up? She hesitantly drew closer to the ham and examined it. It looked pretty dry and smelled smoky. But wasn't there smoked ham, after all? People were always drooling over smoked ham, weren't they?  

To her horror, she saw Red burst through her front door with a gaping Erma behind him. 

"Mama!" he exclaimed. "Is there a fire in the oven? Get out of the house!" 

"There's no fire! Just smoke." 

"Where there's smoke, there's usually fire," said Red, opening up the oven door and peering inside. He coughed. "This smoke can't be good for you, either." He unlatched her windows and pulled them up as high as they would go. "Don't you have a fan somewhere? Maybe we can blow some of the smoke out." He disappeared into the back of her house. 

Myrtle looked irritably at Erma. "Did you have to get Red? He already thinks I'm completely incompetent."  

Erma said, "Myrtle, you can't play around with fire. Fire is deadly!"  

Myrtle glared at her. Next, she'd be told not to play with matches, and that only she could prevent forest fires. Although imagining Erma in a Smoky the Bear outfit was a nice diversion. 

But Erma was continuing on with her lecture. "It's dangerous occurrences like these that make retirement home living look so much easier and better." 

"Amen to that!" said Red, lugging in a fan and plugging it in. "What were you doing, Mama?" 

"I was cooking a ham for the funeral reception tomorrow," said Myrtle irritably. "I guess some of the glaze must have burned off the bottom of the oven." 

Erma peered at the ham. "No, it looks like the glaze on the ham burned. It should only be on there for like fifteen minutes or so. How long did you have it in the oven?" 

Myrtle paused. "Fifteen minutes." 

"No way," said Red, scrutinizing the ham as if trying to do a forensic investigation on it. "That ham was in there for at least an hour or more. It's totally desiccated." 

"I'm sure it was fifteen minutes," said Myrtle. She was blessed with the ability to fib convincingly. 

Erma was shaking her head, though. "You were in Miles's house for at least an hour, Myrtle. Maybe two hours. Although, I know you lose track of time when you're visiting with him...maybe to you, it didn't seem that long." 

Myrtle rolled her eyes and Red seemed to be hiding a smile. 

"Well, at any rate, your ham is toast, Mama. You better be thinking of other options for your reception."