Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 105, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 640 & 641, March 1995

Yvette’s send-off to us really created the mood she wanted. Eyes blazing, nostrils flaring, we brought the right amount of anger to the set, but not with each other — anger at Billy for ogling Yvette and enjoying her kiss. When we made our entrance, our man beamed brighter than any of those lights on the set. Sally Sue looked like she wanted to shut off the switch behind his eyes, but Billy, as he took the center chair of the three set up for us, winked her a coy Billy wink and gave my hand a firm Billy squeeze. It was like he was telling us, hey, I can play the game too. Oh, that Billy! His incredible timing made me redirect my hostility back at Sally Sue like I was supposed to.

Ricardo, who tends to ooze sincerity, told the beginning of our story to the audience — the gymnastics contest we arranged in high school to see who would take Billy to the prom (I did. I held onto the parallel bars three seconds longer than Sally Sue, but I had to wear gauze on my hands to the dance). During Ricardo’s recital he scratched his head and frowned quite a bit to convey his sincere puzzlement over our actions, but his hostly need to stir things up made him jab us a bit as he told about the bingo game, before delivering the knockout question.

Turning to us, Ricardo asked, “Is the contest wearing you girls out? I mean, going from parallel bars to four-corner bingo indicates a steep decline in physical ability. What’s happened to you?”

Before Sally Sue or I could respond, Billy winked at the audience and said, “They’ve gotten older.”

By emphasizing “they” and removing himself from the aging process, Billy Peter-Panned himself into the hearts of the audience, who laughed appreciatively. Once again, Ricardo attempted to direct his attention to Sally Sue and me.

“I have here a list,” he said, “of the various antics you two have undertaken in this yo-yo match for Billy. By the way, have you ever set up a yo-yo contest for Billy?”

Before Sally Sue or I could answer, Billy piped up with, “Nah, they never yo-yoed for this yo-yo.”

The audience howled. Billy’s cute self-mockery went over big. Ricardo scowled at him, but Billy kept his eyes riveted on the camera.

“May I have your permission to read this list, Billy?” Ricardo asked, oozing sarcasm instead of sincerity.

“Oh, be my guest,” Billy answered.

Ricardo flashed Billy the kind of withering schoolteacher look reserved for the class cutup before bellowing, “No, Billy, be MY guest and observe the politeness expected of guests.”

A grandmotherly-looking woman in the audience shouted, “Oh, lighten up, Ricardo. You’re too full of yourself.”

Ricardo bounded off the stage and sprinted toward her. Dimpling appealingly, he handed her the mike and said, “Well, how would you handle this guest?”

“Handle him? Where, in my hot tub or in my waterbed?”

The audience roared. Ricardo worked up a blush and said, “Why grandma, what big hormones you have!”

Grandma grinned and pinched Ricardo’s bottom.

“You can say that again, Ricky,” she yelled as the host raced back to the stage.

Somehow my natural good-heartedness kicked in and I wanted to rescue Ricardo.

“I’d like to hear what you have on that list, Ricardo,” I said.

Gratefully, he turned to me. “And so you shall, my dear. Here we go. After the gymnastics contest, there was the roping event for which you and Sally Sue studied lassoing to prepare to capture Billy. Am I correct, Sally Sue?”

After having been a spectator for so long, Sally Sue had kind of settled into the role. She looked at Ricardo blankly, then squeaked, “Yes, sir,” completely forgetting the voice lessons that had made her a baritone. Her failure gave Henry Higgins the opening to speak for her.

“A regular Annie Oakley she was, too,” Billy said, then tugged shyly at his cowlick. Slipping into movie cowpoke-ese, he added, “Shucks, I plum forgit that Annie was a sharpshooter. What I shoulda’ said was that Sally Sue was a wonderful roper, a regular Wilhelmina Rogers, right?”

When the audience hooted in agreement, there was no stopping Billy. Ricardo might as well have gone into the green room to take a nap.

Seizing center stage, Billy worked the audience like a pro. “And I’ll bet you all would like a demo of just how the little lady roped me, wouldn’t you?”

The audience applauded wildly.

“Yvette, hon, you just bring out that equipment I sent to you.”

Yvette entered the stage holding the lasso at arm’s length as if it were a snake ready to spring.

“Here,” she told Billy.

As she turned to sashay off the set, Billy, like the emcee he had become, shouted at the audience, “Let’s give the little lady a big hand.”

Once more the audience applauded wildly. I stole a glance at Ricardo, who was off to the side miming his need for an aspirin to a stagehand.

Billy gestured to Sally Sue who obediently went over to him, looking as relaxed as a wax-museum dummy. For the first time, my heart went out to my opponent.