Hometown, Day One Page 2

  Every time she did manage to make a dime, like when she sold Thatcher road to the state; two or more of her relatives would show up with their hands out, and Becky, would give them most of the money. By December of nineteen-thirty she had to go to the bank and try to get some money for taxes. And wouldn’t you know; the Bank President, Galvan Hines, of the St. Louis Hines, told her to come back at four o’clock and he would see what they could arrange. Apparently they worked things out, because he came up with the money, and nine months later she came up with a baby daughter; which she named Mary.

  Rebecca claimed that a travelin sales man, from up north, had gotten her in a family way, but the town folks could add and knew that it was Galvan’s. After that incident there was hardly a person in town who would talk to her. Some even went so far as to cross to the other side of the street when they saw her a comin. But Becky kept on being nice to people, who shunned her, by letting them stay in her houses, even though they couldn’t or wouldn’t pay their rent.

  By January of thirty-one, Larry Porter, of the Claremont Porter’s, who owned Porter’s Mercantile in town, made an offering on Rebecca’s lumber mill. Contingent as it turned out, with the same stipulations, which went with the bank loan.

  So Becky found herself in 'that delicate condition' once again. Which in turn; caused the women of our First Baptist Church to instigate a 'morals campaign,' with Rebecca, being their main target.

  Apparently; they didn’t appreciate a woman as hansom as Becky tempting the married men around town and they were all for chasing her out, as soon as the word was spread about her being pregnant with Larry’s child. They would have too, except for Mrs. Porter, who wanted the child for herself, because she couldn’t have any.

  As soon as Robert was born; the 'Women’s League for Moral Decency' under the leadership of Chastity Porter undertook the task of having Rebecca declared an unfit mother. The other good 'Christians' took to painting red 'W's on the wall surrounding Thatcher Manor and the less literate painting red 'H's.

  Becky could see what was a coming, so she went to Joplin in November and bought herself the fanciest, sexiest red dress she could find. Then the widow came back to town, walked into the First Baptist Church on Thanksgiving Day and placed Robert in Chastity’s lap then announced to the congregation.

  'You shun me like the lepers whom your savior healed, but unlike, Christ, you call the woman at the well, whore. Least I start judging you just as cruelly, I shall leave this place taking my daughter with me; and least you be damned to Hell for lying, I shall become a whore to save your souls. But be advised; I plan on being the biggest and best whore around. So you self-righteous women had better hang on to your men tightly, if you don’t want them to know about pleasure.

  After her discourse was finished, she sashayed out the door and drove away. Some say to St. Louis, while others claim she went to that new town of Hollywood way out west. Nonetheless, wherever she went and whatever she did; her tax payments were never late again.

  It was nigh November of nineteen hundred and fifty-one when Mary Thatcher (she kept her momma’s name) came driving into town and walked inside of Porter’s mercantile just to announce to me, that I was in fact a Thatcher and her brother.

  It had been twenty years since the name of Thatcher had been spoken aloud in this town; by anyone. Therefore I had no inkling that I was somewhat bastardized, until that moment.

  She was wearing the same dress which Rebecca had left in, twenty years ago, and it had the same effect on the people in my daddy's store that day, as it had on the congregation so many Thanksgivings back.

  After leaving the store, she went to the First Baptist Church and gave the pastor five thousand dollars; advising him that he would need all that and more if they were to attempt to chase her out of town. So he might as well use it for some good instead. Then she went to the mansion on Thatcher’s knob and moved in.

  It wasn’t long before the wino’s in town knew where they could get a day’s work and a free meal, so as to have enough money to buy a bottle at the end of the day. And folks down on their luck could find steady work and a place to live.

  She went to the houses she owned down by the river and let the tenants know the free ride was over and gave them several choices; pay the rent, work for the rent, or leave. That was it. Apparently the time had come to make honey or get out of the hive; cause there was a new queen bee in town.

  Every day Mary would drive that Cadillac into town, all gussied up in a red dress. She didn’t buy anything; she just drove into town then drove back home after smiling and waving at everyone. Well now the good folks of the First Baptist Church weren’t going to stand around and do nothing while 'that woman' attracted all the riffraff and white trash in the county.

  Then one day, Mary went a step too far in the eyes of our 'good Christian' folks. She drove to Joplin and came back with, Lionel, age six and Amy, age four. They were both; how shall I put this delicately? They were both beautiful children, but their father had obviously been of a darker complexion than that of Mary.

  Shortly thereafter; the police started harassing folks, a comin and a goin from Thatcher’s knob. I couldn’t tell you why anyone could fault the girl, because as far as I could see she was doing a might bit more good than harm a helpin all them people.

  But the righteous didn’t quite see it that a way. To them, she had comingled with a black man and hell was too good for her. So our local constables started going on her property and harassing folks there. That particular game lasted for about six hours, which is about how long it took the federal marshals to arrive on the scene.

  Things surely would have escalated from there, if Mother Nature hadn’t stepped in and changed the playing field. It started rainin so hard that 'cats and dogs' were no longer sufficient to describe the torment, so we all switched to cows and horses as a reference point.

  Well now when the river started rising; the people on both sides of the river headed for higher ground, which meant the Thatcher mansion on the far side and the First Baptist Church on this side. It was soon evident that there were going to be more people than pews, so the good folk of the gospel started turning non parishioners away. And In a short while they began ejecting the sinners, whom had snuck in earlier; to make room for the devout.

  Now the 'Black' Church down by the river was in peril; so the white folk in the church on the high ground started a praying, while Mary and her crew raced down the mountain with shovels and sandbags and set to fillin them, until it became apparent that neither the hard work nor prayers were going to save the Church. So Mary allowed to everyone right then and there, that, there was plenty of room for all at her place. The word spread and soon people left this side and ran for shelter on Thatcher’s knob even though some of those same people had called it 'the den of iniquity' just hours prior. After the flood of fifty-one; folks looked different upon the 'Scarlet Lady' of Thatcher hill.

  Now y’all listen carefully, cause this is important; it don’t make one bit of difference what Church you go to, iffin you go at all and it don’t make no never mind what your profession is. Those two material items do not make you good or bad.

  Only you steer the helm on that river boat."

  ********

  "Would you look at them there fireflies, just a blinking away; isn’t that a beautiful sight? Watchin them little critters on a night like this and a body just knows how much good there is in the world. Some folks hereabouts truly believe that there is more wish grantin power in that little bugs after quarters than in all them shootin stars in the heavens. But you got to be mighty quick on your wishin cause you need to get it done and over with while the light is on.

  What’s that? Another story well I do believe that this old man, may haps, can accommodate your wishes. See, what did I tell you about them fireflies? Let me fetch us some ice tea and freshly made peanut brittle, then I will be more than glad to commence some more story tellin.

  Here’s y’alls tea and grab yousel
f, a handful or two Maw’s candy; it has the magical properties of makin my stories sound better than they really are.

  This here story is about two brothers Jimmy and Elias Barnes of the Hopkinsville Barnes’s.

  Ducktails and Dunces

  ****

  "The boys were about ten or eleven, when the Second World War broke out. Their daddy; Henry, joined the Navy and was shipped off to Haywaya before he had the time to say 'Anchors Aweigh' and their mother Thelma of the Memphis Patterson’s was not the kind of woman one leaves alone to wait. She was a beautiful woman, high spirited and fun lovin, which was why she took off for the nearest honky-tonk afore Henry was out of the county.

  Henry’s Navyin didn’t last very long and he was home six months later with a Purple Heart in place of a foot. He lost it on the Yorktown durin the Battle of Midway and almost lost his life. Would have to, ceptin the shrapnel what cut off his foot was so hot that it cauterized the injury as fast as it made it.

  At that particular time in her life, Thelma was not overly blessed with 'motherly instincts,' or compassion, which is probably why she ran off with, Billy Rae Ligon, (of the Jonesboro Ligon’s) to New Orleans and left Henry to raise the boys his-self.

  Now folks on this side of the river had an intense unnatural dislike for the folks a livin in shanty town, over on the Thatcher side of the river. As long as everyone stayed on their side of the bridge all was fine.

  But as time went by, Jimmy and, Elias, were want to cross that bridge, because they didn’t know the good folk on this side would rather invite a black homosexual communist to dinner than someone from Thatcher Knob. Not, that, they was about to do either. That was just their druthers.

  Jimmy enjoyed nothing more than comin to this side of the river and relievin the young men of their money; what was dim-witted enough to bet against him in a game of pool. And where Jimmy went, Elias went.

  Now where as Jimmy was slender, dexterous and the thinker in the family; Elias was oafish and stronger than a bull ox. Together they were unstoppable and they were always together. Now a lot of folk hereabouts believed that Elias had a stultification of the brain, because he didn’t talk much. But I reckoned, he was just more of a doer than a talker.

  It was in the summer of fifty that the boys bought a genuine 'Indian' motorcycle in Joplin with some of the pool money they had saved. Pretty soon thereafter, they bought black leather motorcycle jackets and greased their hair back into a Ducktail, or D.A. as some were want to call it.

  Either way, both terms were near to the same vicinity on a duck's behind and they both spelt the same thing to folks around here; juvenile delinquent.

  Up until that time neither boy had ever been in trouble, but now that they were J.D.’s; havin a shadow on a sunny day was reason enough for the police to stop them. This of course made Jimmy and Elisa, just that more popular with the young girls, which in turn, made them more unpopular with the parents of the afore mentioned girls.

  The fact that they were always ready to assist, Mary Thatcher, because of her kindness to their father, for some reason just didn’t accrue any endearments in the hearts of the town folks towards, them.

  It got to the point that in one single day; the boys were accused of stealin chickens in town, breakin a window in Springfield, and robbing a bank in Joplin, all at the same time. Well the police caught up to our desperados while they were enjoyin lunch at Thatcher Manor.

  It was either the twenty witnesses who swore the boys had been pullin stumps all morning, the fact that the witnesses were standing between the police and the front gate, the five U.S. Marshals or the rain which had started that caused the police extreme consternation about the task of arresting the boys at that time. So they left without the boys which was a good deal as you will soon find out.

  The rain that dampened the spirits of the constables was the same rain which was spoken of earlier this evenin. The rain which brought the flood of fifty-one. And iffin you remember, I explained how folks on this side were crossing the bridge from the town side of the river, to the Thatcher side.

  Well now, for some strange, inexplicable reason, the river was not wont to pay attention to the mere fact that there were people traversing the bridge, while it was risin; so it kept on a risin.

  There were three cars, stalled on the viaduct, each filled with women and children, who were fleeing the flood and got caught plum dab in the middle of it. Instead of escapin to safety like they had planned; they were fixin to meet their maker. When, Jimmy and, Elias saw the situation, they wasted no time and jumped on that motorcycle, grabbed up some rope and headed for the river.

  Tyin his-self to the rope because he was skinnier and therefore had less drag in the water; Jimmy proceeded to enter the flooded causeway, again and again, rescuing people, while Elias pulled them back to safety, each time. That is until the last trip, when the river was so high, that after Jimmy pulled the frightened woman from the car; the river applied such a force to same said automobile, as to push it through the railing. Thus, sending Jimmy and the woman through the gap, and into an ambiguous future.

  Pull as he might, Elias could not budge the two a danglin on the other end of the line; so he did the only thing he could do. He tied off the rope, then entered the maelstrom himself and walked straight up to his brother and the woman, then lifted them both from the quietus of the river. Tucking one of them under each arm he began the reverse trip to safety. All in all those two boys saved nine people that day and never thought once about their own lives.

  So, the way I figure it, is iffin you let other people, and gossip, choose your friends for you; then find yourself a river and jump in.

  Why wait for a flood to end your life, when you’re not livin it for yourself anyway."

  ********

  "It is truly a lovely evenin and y’all’s company makes it an exceptional one, but if this old man doesn’t get his beautifyin rest then you might as well forget about the sun comin up tomorrow. See you at the breakfast table; bring your appetites."

  Author's Second Note

  The Hometown Stories will continue in 'Hometown, Day Two,'

  Other E-Books by John Dee

  'The Weathermen

  Eat the Food, Drink the Water and Kiss Your Ass Good-bye Travel Guide

  And the adults only

  Kelley's Bar