LONNIE AND I William Burkholder Forward by: G.L. Parker
Thank you for your support and interest in this publication W B Burkholder
When William Burkholder, asked me to write the foreword for his newest shot at literature, I panicked! Sure, I once upon a time wrote a little book to share with the world, but was I up to this task? This literary undertaking for a remarkable and talented writer I admired and envied? I froze! But after taking a deep breath, I wondered why I panicked; this task is probably going to be my easiest writing gig yet! After all, it was asked of me by a man I met many years ago in our efforts to undertake such a competitive industry; the crème de la crème of authors of the literary world of publishing. But, as it turns out, this is gonna be a cinch! I have loved and admired Mr. Burkholder's work since I read word one of his first publication, “The Writer’s Sight”. I asked him at that time, "Please! Don't write truth or fiction as I do, or my name will be dead before anyone ever discovers me. But did he listen to me?! No! He went on to write several poetry books and now, "Lonnie and I"! He knocked me out of my socks, and sent me shivering right into a cold pool or reality,; this man spiritually, emotionally and intelligently processes all that it takes to make a true author; with honesty and courage to write from his deepest self! He has no fear of opening his mind and heart! Take a leap of faith as he has done, and sink your teeth into a story in the day of the lives of two young, caring boys, if I could, I'd write my own character, and jump into the pages of this book just to be in the presence of these young men, along with Mr. Pardee, Ezekiel Walters, and Rufus, who all set out on a surprisingly humorous, sad and intriguing journey. I think if Mr. Mark Twain was still writing today, he would like these young men, and might even be inclined to introduce them to Tom and Huck! But I'm sure Mr. Twain would understandably be looking over his shoulder on the way to deposits his royalties, for Mr. Burkholder would be right on his heels! G.L. Parker
For Jimmy D. Wherever you are
RUFUS
One spring, Lonnie and I went ta work for the undertaker Pardee. He was the buryin man over in Calhoun, just a pole cat’s jump outside a Otisville. It was gettin on ta spring and he wanted me and Lonnie ta go down ta the well shed at the cemetery, and git old man Pike ready ta bury. Ya see, Pike died in mid-January and the ground was froze solid, Pardee decided to wait until the ground thawed so’s he could bury him. We stepped out of the undertaker’s office, and headed down ta the cemetery. Old Pardee said there id be shovels and picks in the well shed along with old man Pike. “Dig that hole deep boys, I don’t want the critters getting to em, his missus id have a fit if pieces of em went missin.” “Yessir” I said and then Lonnie piped up. “When we gonna eat?” I poked Lonnie in the ribs with ma elbow, “Hush now Lonnie, we’ll eat after the buryin.” Lonnie looked at me and nodded, fiddlin with the fork in the top pocket of his T- shirt. We made it down ta the well shed and I unlocked the door. I stepped in, and was near frightened ta death. There was old man pike, deader an a runned over porcupine, Sittin straight up in his pine box, Arms stretched out like he was trying ta grab me! I got so a feared that I screamed like a ribbon in the hair school girl. I thought old man Pike had come back from the dead, just waiting for someone ta come along and let him outta that there well shed. Me and Lonnie was so scared, we fell over backwards out the door and landed in a pile. “Lonnie, did ya see that, Old man Pike’s a zombie? Lonnie stood up and brushed the dust off his hog washers and went ta the door. He took a peek inside at old man Pike who was still settin upright. Lonnie turned around and smiled. “Old man Pike’s still frozen, the frost must a made em like dat. Drew em up tighter an a shoelace, like on a pair of them fancy tennis game shoes!” I picked ma self-up and peeked in over Lonnie’s shoulder. “You sure he aint some sort of zombie or somthin like at? I seen a movie onced about them zombies, they’d like ta eat folk’s brains and intestines. I had ta leave the picture house, bout scared me ta death watchin it!”
Now Lonnie twernt much on words and the like, bein friends and such, he usually left the talking up ta me. But that day, I guess he decided to speak some. “You dad burn fool, if ’n somebody’s dead, and they been dead for nigh on four months, how in the hell do you think they’s gonna come back from the dead. Your just sceered a old Pike.” “Well you wasn’t ready ta go in there and give em a hug neither.” I said. “Let’s just get on with it Lonnie, get in the shed and grab them shovels and what not!” Lonnie grabbed the picks and shovels and we went over ta the buryin site. Now old man Pike bein the miserly curmudgeon that he was, didn’t believe in spending his hard earned money for a hole in the ground. He wasn’t gonna pay fer a fancy grave up on the hill. Pardee said it was like tryin to squeeze lemon juice from a rock just ta git fifteen dollars for the hole he was gonna be buried in. That ground was so damned hard, I thought we was about to break off the end of the picks. It was like burrowin inta cement! Lonnie and I picked and scraped at the dirt with the shovels, each time getting just a little bit deeper. The sun was startin to reach its noon peak and it started to git a might hot. “Lonnie, I said, why don’t ya grab that there pail and get us some water from the well yonder?” He nodded and pick it up and commenced to the well. Lonnie got to the well and went ta put the pail on the hook. I don’t know what he did, but he musta missed that dern hook, and that bucket fell down the well shoot. “Dang Lonnie, that theres the only bucket we got fer water. That’s a three dollar pail and Pardee ’l have our hides if we lose it! He’ll end up dockin us on the pay side! Git on down there and grab the pail!” Just about that time, old man Pike’s favorite coon hound, Rufus come a runnin down the hill, bayin and barkin, some folks say that dog never left the cemetery onced they’d brought Pike down from the church in January. Pike loved that dog, you’d always seem em on the front porch with the big ol dog in the old man’s lap. Pike id be lovin on em, pettin em, and talking in his ear like. They was inseperateable. Rufus went ta sniffin around the well shed. He musta knowed that Pike was in there. “Rufus, git outta there!” I didn’t want em jumpin up on the frozen corpse and snappin somthin off! That dog took one look at me and ran back up the hill. Just then I saw Lonnie, takin the rope from the well spool and feedin it out.
“Lonnie, what in the hell you doin now?” “I gotta git down in the well somehow, I am gonna tie off this end in the well shed and shimmy down ta get the pail on the other!” “Fine Lonnie,” I raised my eyebrows at em, that always told em I was peeved at what he was a doin. In case ya’ll didn’t know it, Lonnie was never the sharpest crayon in the box. But he was ma friend and I put up with em fer better or worse I guess. “Just get the dang pail; I am so dry I could whistle a sand storm.” Well, Lonnie went inta that there well shed, lookin for a place ta tie off that rope. He looked and looked and couldn’t find anythin that he could tie to ta get em a straight shot out the door… Except for old man Pike, There he was with his arms all froze up and stretched out. The perfect spot Lonnie thought that he could tie off to. Now Lonnie only weighed about a hundred and forty five pounds soakin wet, and old man Pike was a big man, so I could see Lonnie thinkin that Pike could hold up to Lonnie’s weight shimmyin down that well. He went over and tied a loop around Pike’s left arm right at the elbow, and started payin that rope out back towards the well. When Lonnie got ta the well, I guess he figured he’d give a good test yank before he started climbin down. Lonnie took that rope with both hands and yanked for all he was worth. I heard this snap, and that rope went slack, and outta that well shed come a flyin old man Pike’s left arm like it was shot from some sort a crazy arm cannon. Lonnie never knew what hit em; Pike’s arm clocked Lonnie right betwixt the eyes and knocked him over the rail and right into that well. I just stood there fer a second, shocked I guess… I couldn’t cipher out what happened right away. Then it come ta me. That dad burn Lonnie had tied his self-off to a dead man, a froze dead man at that! I guess between him being froze and the warmer weather, old man Pike had half thawed, and just enough for a piece to break off! That is if somebody tied off to em and planned on goin down a well shoot! Just about that time, here comes Rufus again, barkin and howlin, he’d seen his master’s hand, that hand that had petted em and fed em. Before I knew it Rufus had a hold of that arm and was commencin back up the hill. ‘Rufus. Ruu-fuss!” I screamed, “git back here with Pike’s arm.” But Rufus was long gone, all I saw was the end of that well rope disapearin up over the hill. Bout that time Lonnie come crawlin up outta the well. I turned and saw em soakin wet with a big ol goose egg in the middle of his forehead.
“Lonnie, we need ta go find Rufus, he done run off with Pike’s arm!” Lonnie looked at me, still dazed, “I know where he’s goin, he’s headin back home! We can cut through the trees yonder and meet em at the front door.” So there we was, runnin after Rufus, chasin a dead man’s snapped off arm tryin to cut em off before he could git home and show old man Pike’s missus what he done brought home. We come outta the woods in ta Pike’s soybean field, and saw Rufus runnin up the driveway and on ta the porch, I didn’t see the truck anywhere about, so Pike’s widow must a been in town. We crossed the field, and went up the drive, and sure enough, there was Rufus with Pike’s arm, he was a rubbin on it. I guess he was tryin ta git it ta pet him or somthin. That poor old hound looked so sad ta me and Lonnie. I guess it’s not only folks that mourn the loss of a loved one. Me and Lonnie stepped up on the porch and I was finally able to coax Pike’s arm outta old Rufus’s mouth, the sleeve of Pike’s torn suit jacket arm was all slobbery from Rufus lickin on it. That dog looked up at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever done seen. This dog loved that old man. And with those eyes he was askin, “Where’d he go? I passed Pike’s arm behind me to Lonnie, and told em to head back to the cemetery. And I just sat there pettin Rufus, He climbed up in my lap, just like he used ta do with Pike, I petted em and whispered in his ear, “good boy Rufus, good boy.” I looked down the driveway and across the field ta see Lonnie disapearin inta the tree line back towards the cemetery. I saw Pike’s old pickup truck turning in as well. It was the Widow Pike comin back from town. She got outta the truck and said, “What are you doin here boy, and where’d you find that hound? I aint seen him for nigh on four months now.” “Afternoon Miss Pike, we found Rufus down at the cemetery and I uh, thought I’d bring em home to ya. Mr. Pardee has me and Lonnie doin the grave digging today, for the, well, for your mister ma’am.” The widow Pike looked on me with an approvin eye and thanked me for doin the diggin, and Lonnie as well. “How’d he look boy? That damned Pardee was to cheap ta hire a back hoe tractor to dig em a proper grave, but I’m beholdin to you and Lonnie for doin the proper thing. Tell me, the critters didn’t git to em did they, A man needs to be buried with all his parts don’t ya know?” I choked a bit and told the widow that yes, all his parts were still there; but I didn’t tell her they were a little detached and soggy, but they was still there alright.
‘Well ma’am I said, I need ta be gittin back to Lonnie and well you know, Do ya think ya could tie Rufus up fer a spell, just until the buryins over? I think that there hound’s been down in the cemetery all this time lookin fer mister Pike.” She bent over and grabbed Rufus by the collar. “This crazy old hound and that crazy old man of mine were a pair weren’t they? They was inseperateable!” She smiled and went inta the house with Rufus. By the time I made it back to the cemetery, Lonnie was pattin down the last shovel full of dirt on old man Pike’s grave. I sat down, leanin against the well shed wall, and Lonnie brought me over a drink of water. Somehow he must a got the pail outta that well. “So I see ya didn’t need ta tie off ta anythin to get that pail back Lonnie.” Lonnie looked at me with a strange look in his eye. “I don’t know,” he said, “when I got back here, that bucket was settin up on that there well wall, full ta the brim with cold water. I didn’t go down there and git it.” Got me ta thinkin, maybe it was old man Pike thankin us fer buryin him, thankin me fer bein kind ta Rufus, and thankin us fer getting his arm back so’s he could be buried proper like with all his parts. Lonnie tapped me on the shoulder, “When we gonna eat?”
Tamatas and Justice
One night, Lonnie and I was out hootin it up on the town. We found us some moonshine that his Daddy done hid before the social welfare folks had come and run em off. Lonnie’s Daddy had put em in them wire cages with the dogs and the only thing he’d been feedin Lonnie was table scraps, since then, Lonnie had been livin with me an Ma down at the cabin on Old Hickory Road. His Daddy musta hid them mason jars a long time ago cause there was dust all over em, and they was hid under the porch steps. Lonnie knowed where the hidin spot was, cause he could see from his cage where his Daddy done hid em. We snuck on over by the moonlight and liberated them there jars from underneath the steps. Now Lonnie being Lonnie, was always a hungry cuss, and he’d knowed that there was also some stewed tamatas put up in the root cellar. The social welfare folks said it was cause the way his Daddy treated em, and at was why he was so hungry all the time. “We’ll get us this here moonshine, and them stewed tamatas, and have us a midnight hootenanny down at Mission swamp,” he said. I looked at Lonnie and told em, “Boy, your loonier than a one legged rooster. You cain’t eat them Mata’s cold, you’ll git yourself a belly ache!” “No”, he said, “we’ll start us a fire and steam em up first, put a bit a this lightenin with it and they’ll steam up just fine.” We found us an old grain poke, and put them stewed tamatas and that moonshine in it and headed out for Mission swamp. Yep, we was young and crazy, Mission Swamp wasn’t a place that most folks went to at night, let alone durin the day time. See, the swamp was known to have poachers and the like that moved about in there. They’d just as soon shoot ya as ta say howdy, But we twern’t thinkin on that at the time, we just wanted us some kinda party. We had the makins for a good time, and we was gonna have us one! We cut through the woods past the cemetery, and Pardee’s buryin house. The lights were on, so old Pardee musta been fixin ta bury someone. “Makin em ready for the pine box and glory.” I always used ta say! “Let’s take a look see Lonnie, see who Pardee’s fixin up in there.” Me an Lonnie had seen dead folks plenty a times. We helped old Pardee dig the graves for those folks who left the confines of this world, and had gone on ta meet their maker. So seein em dead and what not, didn’t really bother us much. Ceptin if it were a tractor or
hay bailin accident. Those folks id be mighty tore up from those types a things. Besides, he paid us seventy five cents each, so it was a profitable adventure fer us. We stepped up on the porch of the buryin house, and stepped through the door. Sure enough, there was Pardee leanin over someone. “Hey Mr. Pardee, it’s just Lonnie and me stopping by to say hey, wonderin if you’ll be aneedin a grave dug tomorrow.” Pardee looked up at me and Lonnie. He had a sad, sad look in his eyes. “Boy’s, I’m glad ya come over tonight, I wanna show ya all somthin. Come on over here and take a look at this poor soul.” Me an Lonnie stepped on over and stood next ta Pardee, lookin down at this dead body. “Boys, these are the earthly remains of Wilbur Pigeon, The sheriff brung em ta me tonight. See here,” Pardee pointed ta poor Wilbur’s chest. “That’s a shotgun wound boys, Sherriff says that poor Wilbur here is the work of Cooter Muldoon. Seems as though Wilbur was out traipsin in the swamp, and come up on Cooter’s trap line and Cooter as well, I suppose. Cooter done shot this poor boy for no good reason. The sheriff’s out lookin fer em now. I Just wanted to let you boys know to keep a wary eye out tonight. Sherriff says there’s a fifty dollar reward as well for Cooter’s capture. That boy is meaner than a one eyed coon hound.” Lonnie looked over at Pardee and gave em a dirty look. “Lonnie, pay no never mind to Pardee, he twern’t talkin bout you!” Lonnie was a might sensitive about his predicament bein raised with the hounds and all. The social welfare folks said he had what they called, “A bit of an inferiority complex” We said our good byes to Pardee, and left em to finish up poor old Wilbur. “He’ll be ready for buryin tomorrow boys.” I turned around and saw Pardee shakin his head and goin back to work on the poor soul. Now, me an Lonnie had been sippin some on that lightenin as we was makin our way. And in our confused state of drunkenness we come up with a plan. We was gonna go out and capture us Cooter Muldoon. Fifty dollars! That was a fortune ta me an Lonnie. We decided we’d head inta the swamp and set ourselves up a trap for old Cooter!
We cleared the woods, and come out on Dead Horse road. At the end of Dead Horse was the path leadin inta the swamp. And at the end a that there path was one of Cooter’s trappin cabins. As we got closer ta the cabin, I turned and looked at Lonnie and gave im the hush sign. If ol Cooter was in the cabin we didn’t want ta spook em none. We’d sneak up quiet, like a pole cat on the prowl! I made it up ta the window and took a peek in. The place was empty and it looked like ol Cooter hadn’t been there in a spell. “Come on Lonnie,” I said, “let’s git inside.” Lonnie took another long draw on one them mason jars, and passed it over ta me; He had a goofy grin on his face. I knew right then and there that, that boy was pickled Hell; I wasn’t too far off of bein drunk maself! That cabin door opened with a loud creak. I stopped the door half way so’s as not to make any more noise than we needed to. This was gonna be an ambush, with Cooter bein the ambushee! We didn’t want ta let on by makin all kinds a noise. We got inside and Lonnie pulled them dang stewed tamatas from the poke. “Lonnie, how can you eat at a time like this, when we’s about ta capture us a murderin fugitive?” Lonnie just looked at me with that goofy, drunk grin a his and shrugged his shoulders. Cooter had been here. There was still some coals in the potbelly stove over by the window, and before ya know it, Lonnie had him a good size fire goin in it again. I looked out the window, searchin for any sign of Cooter bein about. In the meantime Lonnie was puttin them stewed tamatas on the stove. I was so wrapped up in lookin for Cooter, I didn’t notice that Lonnie had forgotten ta take the lid off them matas! I found me a chair and flopped down in it, and took another long draw off that lightenin jar. Man, me an Lonnie was drunk, skunk stinkin drunk! All the sudden I heard a commotion outside! “Who in the hell is in ma cabin? You all got to a count a five ta come out or I’m’ a comin in! And I’m loaded fer bear boys!” Lonnie looked at me, still smilin, “What we gonna do now?” He asked almost fallin over at the same time.
Outside Old Cooter was pacin back and forth. He had been drinkin too, and was pretty snockered his self. He was so drunk that he had forgotten to reload that scatter gun after he shot Poor old Wilbur. He yelled out towards the cabin, “FIVE!” and dropped the hammer on an empty chamber. I was lookin out the window and saw the whole thing. I tried to lower ma voice to make it sound like I was the Sherriff. “Cooter Muldoon, this is the Sheriff’s department, drop that shotgun and put yer hands up, or we’ll start shootin back at ya!” Cooter was in a tizzy, diggin in his pockets for another shotgun shell, I knew he was about ta come bustin in here and kill me an Lonnie both! I ducked down from the window, and waited fer the worst. Then it happened. I heard this loud explosion, and the breakin a glass and the feelin of warm liquid on ma cheek, and arms, I was screamin and put ma hand to ma face. I wiped some of it away to look at it, and my hand was covered in red! “Lonnie, I done been shot! Ol Cooter done killed me too! Come help me stop the bleedin!” I looked over at Lonnie and he was on the floor laughin like a rabid hyena dog. “Lonnie, what are you laughin at while I ‘m over here gun shot and bleedin?” Lonnie rolled over and looked at me and said, “Boy, you aint gun shot, you just been smattered with hot stewed tamatas. That there mason jar exploded on the stove and you was in the line of fire!” He was howlin like a moon struck wolf. I picked up a towel that was hangin off the back of the chair and wiped my face and arms off and threw it at Lonnie who was still rollin on the floor. “Ok, don’t shoot, I give up Sherriff.” It was Cooter. He thought we was shootin at em and done decided to give his self-up ta the law. I peeked out the window and saw that he had chucked that shotgun over in the weeds, and was layin face down in the mud shakin like a new born fawn. I yelled out there in my best Sherriff’s voice, “Don’t move Cooter or we’ll shoot again at ya!” I found me a piece a bailin rope and kicked Lonnie, “Git up, Cooter thinks we’re the cops!” We both went out there and put a rope on Cooter and tied em up snugger an a bug.
We rolled em over, and he took one look at us and said, “Hey, you two aint nothin but a couple a kids! Where’s the sheriff? I looked at him and said, “Cooter Muldoon, Lonnie and I are makin a citizen’s arrest on account a you killin Wilbur Pigeon.” Lonnie walked over and handed me Cooter’s shotgun, I checked the barrel and Cooter had managed to load another round in it. Boy we was lucky. But that white lightenin hadn’t done much fer me, I went from three sheets ta the wind, to hotel made bed once them tamatas went off! “Kinda seemed like a waste,” I thought. But what the heck, Lonnie and I would be gettin the reward money for takin in old Cooter, plus the seventy five cents each for buryin Wilbur. Plus we had some a them killer stewed tamata’s left, and another jar a shine. All in all, we had us quite a time!
Taters and Lightenin
Lonnie and I was out back a Cooper’s hardware store one day, lookin for scrap metal and such ta make us a few dollars over at the junk yard. Mr. Cooper never minded us back there wallerin in his junk piles, He just told us boys ta take whatever we had a fancy on. This one day, Lonnie and I decided we was gonna make us a Moonshine still. We had been in them piles a wallerin, and seen us an old hot water tank and some copper tubin. That’s when the idea hit us! We’d make us one them there moonshine stills, and start sellin the shine to the boys out in Mission swamp. They was always needin a drink a some sort, so’s me an Lonnie figured heck, why cain’t it be us that’d do the sellin of that shine? Well, we got us all our pieces parts collected and gathered em up over at the shed behind Purvis Sloan’s chicken coops. He had one old converted hen house over there he used to use fer storage of tools and what not. But he aint used it fer a spell. So’s we figured it was a good a place as any, plus the main house was a ways off and old Purvis id never know we was in there cookin up that shine anyway. We set everythin up to the point where it looked mighty good ta me an old Lonnie. We had us that there hot water tank settin over a fire pit, and up on top was that mess a copper tubin all connected and such. We was mighty proud a our handy work. Now’s all we needed was the recipe! Ta tell the truth, we didn’t have a quiz master’s clue as ta how ta cook up lightenin. But we was in it fer the long haul and decided that we knowed enough ta at least try. We went out and collected us a couple a bushels a taters, some kerosene, sugar, and yeast. I’d heard somewhere that kerosene is what give that lighten its kick! We got everythin back ta the shed and started preparin our creation fer cookin. I looked over it again and seen that we didn’t make a place fer the mash to go inta the still. There twern’t no hole on this thing! “Lonnie, how the heck we gonna get this stuff in the still? There aint no hole in it? Lonnie came over and looked it up and down. After a spell he pointed to the top a the tank. Up on top was a big old plug. “Just take at thing off right ere, and we got us a place ta pour the fixins.” So’s that’s exactly what we done. I got that plug out and we started pourin it in. Once we got that mash all situated in side that there tank, I went ta light the fire underneath it. Lonnie looked at me and said, “Wait a minute.” And he took that plug and
put it back in the hole. “We don’t wanna lose all the steam outta there ... That’d be a loss of our profits steamin away sides; it’ll all come outta that there copper pipe any way.” A word of advice from Lonnie and me. Pay attention now, Always check ta make sure that yer copper pipe aint go no kinks in it! Oh, and leave at kerosene out the mix too! I set up that old still, with a good fire underneath it and after a bit we could see a bit a steam comin out the end. I figured it’d be a spell for we seen any results, so’s me an Lonnie decided ta take a well-deserved break, and go on over ta Purvis’s pond and take us a dip. I throwed a couple a more logs on the fire ta keep the process goin. We stepped out and I told Lonnie to make sure the door was shut tight behind him. Well, I guess when he slammed that there door, some a them logs from wood pile must fell over and landed on the end that copper tubin bending it and crimpin it all up. Well, that steam needed some place ta go and I guess it found it’s release right out the bottom a that there hot water tank, but it didn’t come outta there quite like. That there fire was a cookin and cookin that there mash, and that steam pressure was a buildin and a buildin, It got so hot and so full a steam it pushed the bottom of that tank out and made the dern thing fall over at an angle. Little did we know, but that still was aimed right at Purvis Sloan’s chicken coop, not just any coop, but it was a pointed at the coop that housed his prized, blue ribbon hens. Purvis Sloan was known far and wide in three counties for havin the best layin hens. He even won him the championship at the county fair, three years runnin! Heck he even had a pot belly stove in the coop ta keep them birds warm in the winter time. Old Purvis did everthin he could to make them birds lay. Have ya all ever seen one of them rocket ships blastoff? Well, that fire build up so high on the outside that there tank, that I guess it just couldn’t take no more, the bottom a that thing blowed out and took off just like one a them rocket ships, cept it didn’t go up, That thing took off across the field in a cloud a taters and steam, and kerosene. The kerosene got lit up by the wood fire, and boy that was a sight, that tank hit the back side a old Purvis’s chicken coop and that’s when the mayhem begun. Between the taters, the steam and lit kerosene, we seen this big cloud a white feathers and that potbelly stove launch about ninety feet straight up in the air. That chicken coop was no more of this world and worse yet, that homemade rocket ship had now exited the other side of that coop and landed in the back a Purvis’s truck, I guess Purvis forgot ta put the parkin brake on and the pressure that was left in that there tank, pushed old Purvis’s truck across the yard, and down the hill inta the pond. Lonnie and I seen this and hightailed it across the field, and back inta the woods.
Ta this day Old Purvis thinks he got attacked by his county fair competition er somthin like at. Sayin they knowed a his prize winnin chickens and was tryin to sabotage his chances of a fourth year win. He could never figure out how he got two bushels a mashed taters on the roof a his house though.
Ezekiel Walters
Every once and a while, Lonnie and I id go down ta Old Woman creek and do us some catfishin. We’d go out and dig us up some crawlers, maybe catch us a few crawdads and such fer bait; we had us a couple a good sturdy cane poles that seemed ta do the trick in terms a catchin them there cats. Along the way, we always passed by Ezekiel Walter’s house. Now Ezekiel was a different kind a feller. He was always settin in the front yard, perched on a cinder block. Every time we come by that there cinder block was in a different part a the yard, and there’d be Old Ezekiel, just a settin on it. He was an elderly black gentleman, and his house was right along Old Woman creek. Fact was, you could see his house from our fishin hole. Well, one day, we was walkin by and said “Hey” like we always did ta Mr. Walters; He’d wave back, but never did say much cept fer a grunt or a “hey” back at us. We never paid no never mind to it, some folks er just that way. Sides Ezekiel was a nice enough feller; after all he didn’t mind us fishin so close to his property an all. We got ourselves set up on the bank a the creek, and just as I was ready ta throw ma line in, Lonnie came up with a plan. Seems he had done some work fer Eli Cooper over at Cooper’s hardware and feed, and got his hands on some dynamite. I guess Lonnie figured it’d be a hoot to go blastin fer em cat fish instead a fishin fer em. He pulled out his jackknife and spun a hole in one them there sticks and placed the fuse in it. He took em up a blue tip match and struck a light to the fuse and chucked it on in the creek. Well, I’ll tell ya, we lit a shuck outta there, and run up the bank in ta Old Ezekiel’s back yard, and hid behind his old hay wagon, waitin fer the blast ta go off. And sure enough, it did. There was this big, “BOOM” and a spray a mud, water and catfish musta been slung a hunnerd feet in the air. Lonnie went a runnin back down ta the creek and started catchin them catfish as they was fallin from the sky, and he had a big ol grin on his face, he did! Just at that moment, I heard Ezekiel out in his front yard a screamin and a hollerin. It sounded like he was in some sort a pain, so I went a runnin up front with Lonnie right on ma heels. I got up there ta see Ezekiel laid out flat in the front yard, tryin ta hide behind that there cinder block he always sat on.
“You boy’s git down,” he said. ”Those Huns have commenced ta shellin us a’gin. Find yerself some cover!” “No Sir, Mr. Walters’s,” I said, “that was just me an Lonnie blastin fer catfish down ta the creek. Ain’t any Huns shellin anyone round here.” He looked over at us and said, “You boys help an old man up on his feet.” Lonnie and I grabbed each arm, and slowly helped em over to his cinder block. Lonnie looked at Ezekiel and asked, “Sir, what’s a Hun?” “They were our enemy in the Great War boys. I fought over in France with Pershing’s own. Ya all mean that they aint taught you this in yer school?” “Well, no sir,” I said kinda embarrassed. “Lonnie and I don’t have much schoolin. Lonnie got some over at the sanatorum a few years back, and I graduated the 8th grade. Went ta work after ta help my Ma out with groceries and rent and such.” Ezekiel looked at Lonnie and me and said, “One a you boys go over yonder on the porch and grab that there wooden box under the table, and bring it on back here.” Lonnie went a runnin and brought that there box back and gave it ta Mr. Walters. He set that box up on his lap, and opened the lid real slow like. There were old pictures and such, of when he was in the war. He showed em to us and could still remember the names of his buddies. He had little souvenirs “from Paris, France” he’d say. “Ooh la la” he got a twinkle in his eye and laughed. He pulled out one photo though and got real sad like. I asked him, “What’s wrong, Mr. Walters? “Boy’s, this here’s a picture of ma best friend, Hopewell Johnson.” “He saved my life, but in return gave his own. There aint a day goes by, that I don’t think about Hopewell, and what he did fer me.” Lonnie and I was curious ta hear more, “Sir, how’d he go about savin yer life, I mean that is, if y’all can tell the tale and all?” He bent over and put that there box down twixt me an Lonnie and began ta tell us the story of him and Hopewell Johnson and a battle they fought in the Great War. It was
called the Somme. He told us him and Hopewell was in a squad a men, all African American men that was ordered to go and charge a Hun observation post. He said there was a firin and explosions all around em, but they never bolted. They went on and did their jobs like they was supposed ta, and ended up capturing those Huns and that enemy post. They was doin somthin he called “Moppin up” when some more them there Huns come over a hill and started shootin at em with a machine gun. Mr. Walters was a shakin the whole time he was a tellin us about it. When they commenced ta firin, old Hopewell jumped up and started firin back. He threw emself in front of Ezekiel and ended up gittin shot by that there machine gun. Ezekiel had tears in his eyes now and Lonnie and I turned our heads down, so’s as not ta embarrass em. That’s when my eyes went ta that wooden Box. There was a medal in there attached ta a long blue ribbon. The medal was gold and had some writin on it. “Medal of Honor, Mr. Walters what this here medal fer?” He took it from me and looked at it, shaking his head, and wiping the tears from his eyes. “Boys, this is what shoulda been Hopewell Johnson’s medal. Instead they give it ta me. Fer bravery above and beyond the call a duty,” he said. “Hell boys, all I did was survive, Old Hopewell gave his life fer me. Nope, this here medal might a been given ta me, but it aint mine. I’m gonna be buried with this thing and give it ta him when I see em in glory.” Lonnie and I looked at em, and saw that he was beginning ta smile, “So’s you boys git yourselves any catfish down there in at hole? I got me a taste fer some.” Lonnie piped up, “Why there’s about twenty of em nears I can figure.” “Go collect em on up,” he said, “and we’ll have us a fish fry!” Lonnie and I sat there all day and inta the night listenin to Ezekiel tell us about the Great War, and Hopewell Johnson. Tellin us about Paris France and such. I guess no matter where ya go, yer always gonna find a hero somewheres. Lonnie and I found ours down by Old Woman creek.
Lerlene and Granny
Lonnie and I was down at Cooper’s hardware store one day drinkin us some sodas. We’d go down there every now and then and talk ta old man Cooper and maybe play us some checkers or just set around and chew the hash. Folks id come in and out buyin things and what not from Cooper. This one day Lerlene and Granny Johnson come in the store ta buy some dry goods. Lerlene was Granny’s granddaughter; nobody knew much bout Lerlene’s Ma and Pa; it always seemed as though it was just Granny and her. Now I fer one always fancied Lerlene a bit, I thought she was mighty pretty with em pigtails n all. Lerlene was a looker, the way the sun sparkled in er eyes and er one good tooth. And boy, Granny knew it too; she’d set up on the front porch holdin that scatter gun of hers in er lap just waitin fer one of the local boys ta come sparkin Lerlene. Yeah Granny id set up there smoking on her corncob, rubbin them chin whiskers of hers, keeping a sharp lookout. I looked over at Lerlene who was a lookin in the candy jars and I gave er a bit of a wink. She smiled and strolled on over, lookin back ta see Granny and Cooper fussin over the price of a bag a sugar. “Hey you,” she said, battin her eyes and flashing that one pearly white. “Hey Lerlene,” I stood up kinda straight tryin ta look more manly and such. “How come you aint been over ta see me lately? I sure do miss our late night meetins.” She said. I looked at her and that horrible night came a floodin back inta my memory. A while back, me and Lerlene had met up like we’d done before at Cooper’s and made plans fer me to come over ta to do some sparkin with her. Lerlene had the upstairs bedroom in the front a the house, so it was easy ta get up in there by climbin the oak that set just outside er winda. I guess with all the excitement that she was a feelin, she done forgot ta tell me that durin her and Grannie’s spring cleanin, they had decided ta change rooms over. So there I was, a climbin that there oak, spectin ta jump in the sheets with Lerlene. I slid off the branch and on ta the roof, and made ma way ta the winda that was already cracked open fer me, (so’s I thought) It turned out that Granny liked ta sleep with a bit a fresh air blowin in the room. I looked down off the roof, and there was Lonnie just a lookin back up at me, eggin me on. He’d done found his self a bushel of apples and was a chewin on em. Had a big ol grin on his face as he kept a waving fer me ta get in that there winda. I slid it open and climbed on through. The room was dark as pitch, and I had me a time makin my way ta Lerlene’s bedside. I felt the edge a that there bed and knowed that I had
made it so fer, I could hear her breathin. I jumped out a my hog washers and slid in under the sheets beside her. I put my arm up on her shoulder and she started just a bit, but relaxed. She rolled over and planted a big ol kiss right on ma mouth and commenced ta grabbin fer my nether regions. That’s when I felt somethin furry on ma chin. I was puzzled and excited both at the same time. I rolled over and struck a match ta see Granny instead a Lerlene a lyin next ta me! She was a moanin and a stickin out er tongue; worse thing was she musta taken her teeth out too! It was a sight of tongue and gums, plus them scraggily ol whiskers on her chin that hung down about three er four inches! I tell ya, I scrambled up out that there bed lookin fer ma hog washers tryin to make my exit, fer Granny woke up, stubbin ma toes on the bed post, tryin ta getting them whiskers out betwixt ma teeth! I seen the winda and made a dive fer it, rollin out on ta the roof; one leg in and one leg out of ma britches. I tried ta get ma balance, but it was too late. I done rolled right off that roof, and landed in that there bushel a apples setting next ta Lonnie, who by this time, had figured out what was a happenin. I was a layin in them apples south end first tryin get up and get my hog washers on, Lonnie’s cackling like a one them rabid hyena dogs, and Grannie’s up in that there room, moanin and callin fer me ta come back up. It was a nightmare I tell ya. I looked over at Lerlene, “Ya gonna be home tanight?” “N,” she said. “Im’a gonna be over at Calhoun with some of the other girls, seein a picture show.” Granny come over about that time and give me a wink and a thumbs up. She just got done takin them whiskers off er chin and it looked like she got erself some new teeth as well.