"Bandershanks, wake up! Wake up, hon!"
I could feel Mama shaking my arm.
"Time to get up!"
"I'm sleepy."
"I know. But you have to get up early this morning. You're going to the
store with Papa."
"He needs me?"
"Well, yes—in a way. See, I've gotta go back over to Miss Ophelia's to
help Aunt Vic get all those young'uns' clothes ready for the funeral."
"Where's Papa at?"
"He went on out to saddle Jake. Now, soon as you eat your biscuits,
hunt up that old mail-order catalogue I let you and Mierd have. You can
cut out paper dolls this morning while you're up at the store."
"When you gonna come get me?"
"I ought'a be back before dinner."
I played paper dolls a long time. Papa let me spread them out on the
floor, right under the candy counter. Along about the middle of the
morning, he even said they could have some lemon drops. But none of my
dolls liked lemon drops. I had to eat them.
I'd just swallowed the last bite when Wiley came running over from the
schoolhouse. He had to have a brand new writing tablet. He wanted one
with slick paper, but Papa said regular ones were plenty good for
penmanship practice.
I asked Wiley what was penmanship, but he just told me I sure was
stupid. I didn't care. I got Wiley to start bending some pasteboard
strips into chairs and beds for my dolls. He didn't much want to make
them—wouldn't till I begged and begged and said "please, please,
please" so many times he couldn't stand it any more!
"Wiley, son, you'd better hurry on back across the branch. It's time
for the taking-in bell to ring. Surprises me Mister Shepherd let you
come over here during recess."
"Just a minute, Papa, soon as I fix Bandershanks one more chair."
Before Wiley could finish the doll chair, Doctor Elton rushed in
through the back door! He didn't even glance at all my nice catalogue
dolls, or me, or Wiley.
"Jodie, things are in a devil of a mess! We've gotta do something about
Ned! And you!"
"Morning! What are you talking about, Doctor?"
"Jodie, we'd better get that poor nigger away from here! And I don't
know what to advise you to do!"
"What's up? You think Ned—"
"Old Man Hawk's out getting the men together. He vows Ned shot Ward. We
can't allow no lynching, Jodie! What's worse, Wes Bailey's gone to town
to get the sheriff to come arrest you!"
_"Great Jehoshaphat and gully dirt!"_
"Wes thinks you killed Ward!"
"Where'd you see Wes and Old Man Hawk?"
"Hawk phoned just a minute ago. Said he had proof on Ned."
"Proof? What sorta proof?"
"He was so excited he didn't say. And, dolt that I am, I didn't have
gumption enough to ask him. Anyhow, him and Hal Goode and three or four
more want me and you to go with them to get Ned. They'll be here any
time now."
"We'll stop them! I figure myself that Ned might've done it, but we
don't know it for a fact! And we can't let him get killed just 'cause
of some notion Old Man Hawk's got!"
"No! Hawk's in his second childhood! Besides, I don't believe it was
Ned."
"How come Wes Bailey says I had anything to do with the killing?"
"Jodie, all I know is that he took off for town before daylight! Lida
Belle told my wife he went to get the sheriff to arrest you! Why, I
can't imagine."
"I wouldn't 've thought it of Wes. He knows me better'n that!"
"I tell you what, Jodie: whoever gets here first, you keep them in the
store as long as you can, while I go to warn Ned. If it's Wes and the
sheriff, get Wes to talking; get him wound up. Mention the old feud or
something to set him off! Then, quick as I get back, I'll set Wes and
the sheriff straight. If Old Man Hawk comes in first, ask him about his
mule! Get his mind on Nellie, and he'll forget all about Ned."
"I'll do the best I can."
"Try anything to stall them. I'll hurry across the creek and tell Ned
he'd better hide. I'm not worried about you, Jodie. But Hawk may try to
kill Ned!"
"Yeah, he might! He's just crazy enough for something like that!"
"I wish to Heaven I knew how to run a automobile! I'd get Ophelia to
let me borrow Ward's! Then I could rush Ned off somewhere!"
Wiley threw down my pasteboard chair and scrambled to his feet. "I can
run it, Doctor Elton!"
"You knocked over all my beds and chairs, Wiley!"
He wouldn't listen, much less come back and help me. I had to
straighten up my whole playhouse by myself.
"Wiley! Son, I thought you'd left already! You—"
"Papa, 'member I watched that Mister Hicks driving last summer? I know
'zactly which pedals to push!"
"Jodie, let him go! If he can show me how to do the foot work, why, I
can sure keep the thing in the road! It might save Ned's life!"
"All right! Son, you can go. But you be mighty careful!"
"Hot diggity!" Wiley started running toward the front door.
"No, Wiley, not that way! Through the back here. My buggy's behind the
store."
Wiley slammed the door as they rushed out.
It wasn't half a minute before Doctor Elton stuck his head back inside.
"Hey, Jodie, what if the thing ain't got enough gasoline in it? What'll
I do?"
"Lord, I don't know. Reckon coal oil would work?"
"It might. Pump me up a few gallons. I'll take it, just in case."
"My drum's slam empty. All I've got's some in a one-gallon can."
"Just give me that!"
Papa handed the oil to the doctor and had scarcely had time to close
the back door when the front door opened, and in walked Shoogie and
Black Idd. Then Little Stray and Ned.
"Shoogie! You look funny!"
"I's sho' 'nuff bad sick this time, Bandershanks. Grandpa Idd, he
takin' me up to the doctor's house, soon's we warms our feets."
"Doctor Elton ain't— He just— Doctor Elton went to get—To get you, Ned!
You gotta ride far away on Mister Ward's automobile!"
"Baby, what's you talkin' 'bout?"
"You! You better go far off!"
Ned kept standing in the doorway, looking down at me. I talked as fast
as I could, telling him he'd better hide, but I couldn't make him get
scared! He was carrying a big wooden crate on his shoulder, and he
didn't even put that down.
"Baby, where's Mister Jodie at? I got him the puppies here."
"Puppies? Papa! Com'ere! Ned's got us some puppies!" Lemme see, Ned!
Open the box! Lemme see them!"
"Ned! My Lord! What're you doing here?"
I didn't know Papa could walk so fast! He was at the front of the store
before Ned could set the puppy box down.
"Mister Jodie, I done fotched you them two puppies what I promised
you!" Ned lifted the lid. "See 'em, Mister Jodie! They's up good size.
Both fat and pretty!"
Papa wouldn't even glance down at the puppies.
"Doctor Elton's looking for you! Did he see you coming in?"
"Naw, sir. I ain't see'd the doctor. Black Idd, he on his way to his
house with Shoogie."
"Aw! For goodness sakes! You must've been coming in the front door at
the same time he was going out the back! It hasn't been a minute! Lemme
through the door! Maybe I can make him hear me!"
In his rush to get out on the porch, Papa stumbled into the puppy box,
and almost knocked me down. Black Idd pulled me back out of his way.
"Doc! Hey, Doc! Wiley! Y'all come back!"
"They ain't no stoppin' him, Mister Jodie," Black Idd told Papa. "He's
got them mares in a long lope. And they's way past the grist mill!"
"Papa?"
Papa wouldn't listen.
"Move your catalogue and scissors, Bandershanks! I gotta get to the
phone!"
"Papa, look at the puppies!"
"This is no time to think of dogs! I gotta call your mama to head them
off! I hope to goodness she's already back."
"Ned, can I hold this one?"
"Sho'. Stray, pick the puppy up for the baby."
Stray handed me the fat, spotted puppy, and he got the brown one. We
lugged them down to where my playhouse was set up under the candy
counter. Shoogie followed us, but she didn't want to play with the
puppies or the paper dolls. She just sat down on the floor and leaned
her head against her knees.
"Hello! Hello? Who's this on the line? Pa, is that you? This is Jodie.
I'm trying to get Nannie. She's not back yet? Pa, I wish you'd step
down to the road real quick and try to flag down the doctor and Wiley!
Tell them to come back! Tell them Ned's here! Yes, sir, they'll know
what you're talking about. I'll explain it to you tonight!"
Papa slammed up the phone and rushed back over to Ned and Black Idd.
"Ned, me and Doctor Elton think you'd better leave! Get clean away from
Drake Eye Springs, quick as you can! Go hide out somewhere, Ned!"
"Mister Jodie, you wants me to hide on 'count of that squirrel?"
"The squirrel? Ned, did you stuff that squirrel in Mister Ward's coat
pocket?"
"Yes, suh. I puts him there so's hit'd 'pear like Mister Ward was just
a-huntin'."
"Did you kill him?"
"Well, yes, suh, and no, suh! I shoots the fox squirrel, but I ain't
for sho' that hit was me what kill Mister Ward."
"What do you mean, you 'ain't for sure'?"
"See, Mister Jodie, hit was like this: Sunday, just awhile 'fore
sundown, me and Little Stray was walkin' 'cross the cornfield, lookin'
for rabbits. Sylvie, she was with us. You knows Sylvie, Mister Jodie.
She was sniffin'—"
"Yeah, I know all about the dog. But what about Ward?"
"He come 'long with his shotgun and starts shootin' at me!"
"What'd you do?"
"I runs, Mister Jodie! Fast! But I falls down—hangs my feets under a
corn stalk —and I draps my shotgun. I hears three, four shots! But I
ain't hit. Sylvie, she's down lickin' my face. Quick, I gets up and
looks back sideways to see how close Mister Ward's a-gettin'. No Mister
Ward! I looks again, and there he is layin' down on the ground, the gun
in his hand, and hit still smokin'.
"And there stands Little Stray, holdin' my gun in his hand, and hit
still smokin'! I say, 'O Lawd!' I gets up. Then I tries to 'cide what
to do. The blood, it's a-gushin' outta Mister Ward's neck like a stuck
hog!
"I grabs the chile and shakes him. I say 'Little Stray Boy, what make
you shoot Mister Ward!'"
"He yell, 'I didn't! I didn't!' But, Mister Jodie, there he stand,
still holdin' my shotgun in his hand. And Mister Ward, he layin' there
'tween the corn rows. I tries some more to 'cide what to do. First I
say I go get the doctor. Then I say hit's too late. He dead. Then I
figgers hit out. I totes Mister Ward up to the lane and leans him over
by the fence. He was gettin' cold and stiff a' ready, Mister Jodie. I
lays his gun on the ground, right 'side of his boots. Then, I takes
Little Stray and Sylvie and goes back to the house. That was Sunday
just 'fore dark, Mister Jodie. I don't sleep nary wink all that night.
I starts out early yestiddy mornin' to see can I get a squirrel.
'Course, Little Stray, he follow 'long. 'Fore we gets outta my yard,
here come that white man with the peg leg. He say come quick and help
to tote Mister Ward to the house.
"We fetches him in the house and lays him on the bed. The peg-leg man
sends me to tell Mister Wes. After that, I heads for the woods. I gets
me a squirrel—first shot, Mister Jodie! Then, when you sends me in
there with that kindlin' wood, I crams the little fox squirrel in
Mister Ward's pocket!"
"My Lord, Ned! You oughtn't to have done that!"
"Mister Jodie, I just can't let the Lawmens get Little Stray! Look down
there at him, Mister Jodie, a-holdin' the puppies and playin' on the
floor with the chiliens. See, he done give your baby one o' his empty
shells. That boy love empty shotgun shells better'n anything he ever
see'd. He tromp up and down the roads lookin' for shells. Look at him!
His poor back won't never be straight!"
"Ned, you don't seem to understand!"
"I hates to lie, Mister Jodie, but I gwine t' do it for Stray. This
mornin' Mister Wes passes by early. Say he be fetchin' the Law! I gets
plum worried!"
"If Mister Wes does bring the sheriff, he—"
"I wants you to take me to town, Mister Jodie, quick as you can. I
gwine t' tell the Lawmens I killed Mister Ward 'fore I lets them take
the boy!"
"No, Ned! No! That wouldn't do! It'd just make matters Worse!"
"Papa, come look here at my shell!"
"Baby, don't bother me right now!"
"See? Stray's got lots of them. He just give me one, and Shoogie one."
"One what?"
I could tell Papa wasn't half listening.
"A done-shot shell, Papa. See? It's pretty yellow. See? And Stray may
give me his best one, too!"
Papa wouldn't take time to look. Stray emptied another handful of
shells out of his pocket and spread them on the floor, but before I
could decide which one to beg for, Papa called Stray to come over to
the other side of the store and talk to him and Ned and Black Idd.
"Come on, Stray. Com'ere. We've gotta straighten out just what happened
in that cornfield Sunday evening before the sheriff and Mister Hawk and
all of them get here. It'll be too late then."
While Shoogie and I were standing all the shells up straight along a
crack in the floor, Papa kept on telling Stray not to be scared and
that everything was going to be all right.
And Black Idd told Stray not to be afraid of Papa. I noticed Papa was
talking to Stray the very same way he talked to me any time he wanted
me to be good and not bad.
"I don't aim to scold you a-tall, Stray. Just tell me how come you to
shoot Ned's gun."
"I ain't teched the trigger, Mister Jodie. Pa Ned draps his gun and hit
goes off. I just picks hit up off'n the ground."
"The Lawd be praised! Hear that, Mister Jodie? The chile didn't kill
him! The boy didn't do hit, Mister Jodie! O Lawd God, is I glad!"
"I'm glad too, Ned. But I don't know how many folks will believe your
gun went off accidentally and killed Ward. I declare, I don't know what
to tell you. It would take the wisdom of Solomon to straighten the
tangle we're fixing to have here in a few minutes—if I don't think of
something quick!"
"Pa Ned, I wants to tell Mister Jodie somethin'. Mister Jodie, I—
Mister Jodie, when we was— Uh, I gets me a new shell, Mister Jodie,
when I see'd—"
Black Idd leaned over and tapped his cane against Stray's back. "Son,
this ain't no time for talkin' shells to Mister Jodie. He worried.
Mister Jodie, I hears 'em comin'!"
"Yeah! It's them!"
Both Shoogie and I ran to the window. "Oh, Papa! Look a-yonder! Look
comin'!" Papa didn't come.
"Come see, Papa! It's a big gang of men and horses just a-galloping and
kicking up dust! Look how fast they're coming up the hill! Mister Wes
is in the buggy with a town man! There's Uncle Dan! And Mister Goode!
Just ever'body!"
Papa still didn't come. I didn't have time to turn around to see what
he was doing. I knew he could hear me!
"The automobile! Papa, Wiley's making it go! Him and Doctor Elton!
Grandpa's on it! Papa, how come all that smoke's boiling outta the back
end? Is it gonna burn up?"
Papa wouldn't answer. And he didn't know what he was missing! The
saddle horses and the men and the smoke and Mister Wes's buggy were all
getting mixed up together! And Wiley was heading the automobile
straight for the porch! And Doctor Elton and Grandpa Thad were both
grabbing the wheel! And Old Man Hawk was standing up in his wagon,
waving his arms and Nellie's reins and making her run way down toward
the branch!
"Papa?" I turned around to see what on earth Papa was doing.
He had grabbed Ned's arm and was pushing him toward the back of the
store!
"Hide, Ned! Quick!"
"Where, Mister Jodie? Where?"
"Jerk the top off my oil drum and scrooch down in there. It's empty!"
"Where's I gwine to put Little Stray?"
"Stick him in the flour barrel! Make haste! But don't shut that lid
tight! Bandershanks, baby, come 'way from the window. You sit back down
under the candy counter and be playing with them paper dolls! You too,
Shoogie! Don't let them puppies get outta that box or make any racket.
And, Bandershanks, if you ever in your life kept your mouth shut, do it
this time! Don't say a word—not a word—when all the men come in. Don't
mention Ned and Stray. Just keep playing and keep quiet!"
Papa dashed back toward the heater. "Black Idd, the men are after Ned!
And Mister Bailey's got the sheriff, figuring to have me arrested, I
reckon! You gotta help me till I can talk some sense into them!"
"What I do, Mister Jodie?"
"Get farther back there behind the heater and sit on the keg. Make out
like you're dozing off to sleep! It'll look like everything's the same
as usual."
Papa leaped over the counter and ran to the far end of the store, where
he started moving bottles of snuff from one shelf to another. He began
whistling, of all things. Next minute, when Mister Wes shoved open the
front door and all the men came crowding in, Papa didn't so much as
halfway look around.
"Hey, Jodie!"
"Why hi, Wes! I'll be up there in a minute. I was sorta straightening
things up back here in the back, getting this conglomeration of snuff
together on one shelf. Well! Looks like we got quite a delegation here!
Morning, Sheriff. Morning, Mister Hawk. Hal, Dan, all y'all. Come on
in, Doctor Elton. Why, Pa, I didn't see you. Y'all find yourselves some
chairs. I got one or two more here in the back. Wiley, son, you bring
them up here so everybody can sit down. I'll roll up another nail keg
or two."
"We ain't in no sittin' notion!" Mister Hawk told Papa. "Jodie, it was
that darkie Ned that murdered Ward! We gotta get him. Doc says he won't
go. Says we gotta be legal. I say we can save the sheriff here some
time and trouble."
"Hold on, Mister Hawk. Let's take it slow. We ain't got a lick of proof
that Ward was murdered. Besides, I don't figure Ned's been studying
shooting anybody."
"Well, what about the squirrel in Ward's pocket?"
"The squirrel? What makes you so certain that squirrel—"
"I figgered it out, Jodie! All y'all say I'm losing my mind, but I
still got it! I woulda know'd yesterday things wasn't right, if I'd 've
been thinking. But I reckon I plain wasn't thinking. You recollect
Ward's two dogs tore that squirrel to pieces?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, Jodie, when we all walked past where them hounds had been
a-fightin', I seen drops of blood had dripped on the sand. We was all
talkin', and I didn't pay it no mind till last night when I kinda got
my wits together. Then it struck me! That squirrel was fresh killed!
Jodie, Ward didn't shoot it Sunday evenin'! That thing would've been
froze stiff as a fire poker—its blood too! So, all I had to do was find
out who shot a squirrel early Monday mornin' and slipped it in Ward's
pocket!"
"But, Mister Hawk, you can't—"
"Lemme finish tellin' you. I done told Hal and the rest. I said to
myself, 'Hawk Lumpkin, whoever done that was pretty smart. He figgered
we'd all think Ward went huntin' and just had a accident!' But he
didn't figger on me! This mornin' it taken me just about a hour to get
at the truth!"
"How's that?"
"You ever seen that scrawny-lookin' boy Ned's been keepin'?"
"Lots of times. They call him Little Stray."
"Jodie, early this mornin', real early, I found that humpbacked
young'un sittin' down by the road, his overall pockets just stuffed
with empty shotgun shells. I began to question the boy, and he just up
and told me that Ned shot a young fox squirrel yesterday mornin' and
stuffed it in Ward's coat!"
"You gonna believe what a little colored boy says?"
"Shore, Jodie. Little young'uns don't lie. They ain't learned it yet.
They gotta learn lyin' from grown folks!"
Doctor Elton moved over closer to Mister Hawk. "You don't think a jury
would put any weight in what a young'un says about a squirrel do you,
Mister Hawk?"
"Shore, Doc. I figger they would. It would prove Ned shot Ward!"
"No, no, I don't think so. I'm not saying who hid the squirrel, but—"
While the doctor was talking to Mister Hawk, Papa turned around to ask
Mister Wes what he thought about Ned and the squirrel.
Mister Wes took a deep breath, and for a minute didn't answer Papa.
Then he cleared his throat two or three times and said, "I tell you,
Jodie, Old Man Hawk's right 'bout that red fox squirrel bein' fresh
killed. I'd done figgered that out myself. Like I was tellin' the
sheriff here, that's how come me knowin' Ward didn't have no accident.
Now, Jodie, I don't want you gettin' mad at me-and I hate to say it
'cause I never know'd you to harm a fly before—but me and the sheriff
figger it was you that killed Ward! He's come to arrest you!"
"Just do some more figuring, Wes. I didn't kill him!"
"You was over at Ward's place late Sunday evenin', Jodie! You can't
deny that! I seen you pass my house. Then just in a little while I
heerd shootin'. Then pretty soon you come back by, headed towards
home—your shotgun lyin' cross your knees! Your wife was with you, and
some young'uns in the back of the buggy! I seen you!"
"Yeah, Wes! I went over there! But I didn't go to kill Ward Lawson! Me
and my wife went to take some vittles to his young'uns! And, as for the
gun, that old rusty thing belongs to Miss Dink!"
"Now, Jodie! On top o' that, yesterday mornin' you was one of the first
ones sayin' it looked like Ward shot hisself accidental tryin' to climb
the fence."
"Good Lord, Wes. We all thought that!"
"Me, I don't blame you for killin' him, Jodie! You had—"
"Now look here, Wes! You—"
"You had ever' reason—all the dirt Ward done you! Ever'body knows
that!"
"Wes Bailey! Sure, I hated Ward's guts! But I didn't kill him! Now if
you want to see the man with the motive, you go look in a mirror!"
"Naw, Jodie, all that ruckus about the old feud didn't amount to
nothin'."
"I ain't speaking of the feud, Wes. I ain't wanting to talk what took
place at your house Sunday night, but if you insist, I'll tell every
last man standing in this store!"
"Hold on a minute, Jodie! Hold on! Let's— Let's not—We better talk this
over! Sheriff, don't you aim—"
"Mister Jodie, regardless of what happened Sunday night, or what was
said yesterday, or who killed this squirrel y'all been talking about,
I'll have to ask you to come back to town with me for questioning.
We've got to get to the bottom of this!"
I looked up at Mister Wes. His face had turned red, and he was
breathing loud as a horse. I looked back at Papa. His face had gone
white, and he was hardly breathing a-tall! He reached to jerk his hat
off its hook.
"Come on, Sheriff! Let's go! I'm just as anxious as anybody to get this
tangle straight! Once and for all!" As Papa started toward the door, he
stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He handed them to
Uncle Dan.
"Dan, I'll have to get you to lock up for me."
"Sure, Jodie, if you say so."
"Papa, you going to town?"
"That's right, sugar."
"But you gotta see all my shells first!" I grabbed my best shell and
ran to Papa. "Stray did give me his newest one, Papa! The one outta
Mister Hawk's gun when he was shooting Mister Ward. It still smells
good, too! See?"
I held the shell up for Papa to smell. He wouldn't take it. He just
stood there looking down at me.
"Smell of it, Papa! Stray saw Mister Hawk drop it and—"
Papa grabbed me up and whirled around to face Mister Hawk.
"What do you think now, Mister Hawk? You still say little young'uns
tell the truth?"
Mister Hawk began to laugh. But it didn't sound like real laughing. He
kicked open the door of the heater with one foot and spit his wad of
tobacco into the fire. Then, he could laugh better. But he still
sounded strange, like a frog that couldn't croak. Or sort of like a
rooster choking instead of crowing.
"Yeah. They do, Jodie. I'm seventy-odd years old, and I never know'd a
little young'un to lie. I killed Ward Lawson. I did! I killed him!"
Mister Hawk reached over and patted my knee. "This baby's tellin' the
gospel truth! I didn't figger nobody seen me do it, but I reckon that
humpbacked little darkie seen me, all right."
"Mister Hawk, do you realize what you're saying?"
"Jodie, 'course I realize what I'm sayin'! I shot Ward late Sunday
evenin'! Had to. The fool, he scared my poor mule outta her wits with
that damn automobile of his'n! She ain't et a good meal since he bought
the devilish thing!"
"Mister Hawk, you say—"
"Sheriff, I'd do it again!"
"Step out here on the porch with me, Mister Hawk. I'll have to take
you—"
"Sheriff, I don't mind tellin' you where I done it. I shot the
son-of-a-gun out in the middle of his cornfield! He was tryin' to kill
Ned, hisself. I put a stop to that! Then I went straight and told
Nellie. I said, 'Nellie, I done it for you.' I said, 'Now the road's
all your'n. That damn Ward Lawson and his automobile ain't gonna run
you in the ditch no more!'"
The sheriff looked at Papa, at Mister Wes, and then at Doctor Elton.
All three shook their heads. The other men, too. Grandpa Thad just kept
on shaking his head, and he went over to stand by Mister Hawk.
"What you waitin' on, Sheriff? Let's go. You can lock me up-on one
condition: I take my mule with me! If I go to jail, Nellie's goin' to
jail. Where I go, my mule goes."
"Papa?"
"Bandershanks, baby, you've talked enough for one day! Don't say no
more!"
"Papa, I just wanta know when you're gonna let Black Idd wake up! I
ain't gonna tell nobody Stray's in the flour barrel and Ned's in the
oil drum!"
"Bandershanks!"
Every man in the store looked at me. Then at Papa. They began to laugh.
And their laughing was real—not like Mister Hawk's.
"You ain't mad at me, are you, Papa?"
Papa said something about being glad of the day I was born, but I
couldn't understand much of it because the men were still laughing.
"You ain't gonna switch my legs?"
"No. But I was just thinking—if your legs were growing as fast as your
ears and tongue, you'd be grown already."
"I'd be a lady?"
"No doubt of it!"
"Could I go to school?"
"I aim to send you to school right this minute! Wiley, son, you take
Bandershanks over to the schoolhouse. Just ask the teacher to let her
sit in one of the empty desks 'till dinner time. She's got no more
business here at the store right now."
"But, Papa, how'll I get across that branch?" Somehow, I didn't want to
go to the schoolhouse. I wanted to go home and hide under Grandma's
bed.
"Wiley can show you a narrow spot."
"Come on, Bandershanks, I'll help you jump the branch! It ain't wide!"
"Mrs. Goode! You're still here? Church is over! The congregation's gone
home. Why, the custodian is ready to lock up! Come on. I'll help you
across the street."
"What's that you say?"
"I said, 'I'll wheel you across the street.'"
"I thought you said you'd help me jump the branch. Oh? It's you, Dr.
Shirey! Why, thank you. Yes, I must get back to the nursing home.
You're so kind to bother with an old lady like me. My, my, I was lost
in a reverie that took me back, way, way back, Dr. Shirey."
"How far was that, Mrs. Goode?"
"Just a minute. Let me get my hearing aid adjusted. This thing's a
nuisance. Pastor, I don't think you could understand how far it was.
Things were different then. It was over half a century ago, when I
lived back along the Ouachita hills, in a plain, bare, dogtrot house,
where bread was white and the goose was fat and a man's mule was part
of his family. We still thought God had made us all—man, goose, and
mule—out of the same gully dirt. Ah, I was a child! If things went bad,
all I had to do was crawl under my grandma's bed! Or run to Papa. Or to
Mama."
"The grownups—what'd they do when things were bad?"
"Well, come to think of it, they just did the best they could and let
the Good Lord take care of the rest. My father did. No matter what
came, Papa would just holler out _'Great Jehoshaphat and gully dirt!'_
and keep going."
As Dr. Shirey rolled my chair around and started me up the center
aisle, the fringe of my shawl brushed against the chancel rail. I was
ashamed that an hour before I had wanted to kick at it.