Authors: Nancy L. Hart
BUDDIES
Nancy L. Hart
©
Copyright
2003 Nancy Hart. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.
Note for Librarians: a cataloguing record for this book that includes Dewey Classification and US Library of Congress numbers is available from the National Library of Canada. The complete cataloguing record can be obtained from the National Library s online database at:
www.nlc-bnc.ca/amicus/index-e.html
ISBN 1-4120-1842-0
ISBN 9-7814-1221-983-9 (ebk)
TRAFFORD
This book was published on-demand in cooperation with Trafford Publishing. On-demand publishing is a unique process and service of making a book available for retail sale to the public taking advantage of on-demand manufacturing and Internet marketing. On-demand publishing includes promotions, retail sales, manufacturing, order fulfilment, accounting and collecting royalties on behalf of the author.
Suite 6E, 2333 Government St., Victoria, B.C. V8T 4P4, CANADA
Phone 250-383-6864 Toll-free 1-888-232-4444 (Canada & US)
Fax 250-383-6804 E-mail
[email protected]
Web site
www.trafford.com
trafford publishing is a division of Trafford holdings ltd.
Trafford Catalogue #03-2219
www.trafford.com/robots/03-2219.html
10 9 8 7 6 5
Contents
This book is dedicated to:
My daughter Susan.
I also dedicate this book to
My precious
Mama and Daddy,
Louise & George W. Hart, Sr.
Of Brown Road,
Franklin County Georgia
The cold drizzle falling against Joey Frank’s shoulders made him shiver as he stood numbly staring at the rain-streaked coffin that held his Pa. He was feeling an emptiness that couldn’t be explained as he wiped the tears away from his cold face with the back of his hand that clenched his best hat. Through misty eyes he looked over at his Mama, who was wearing her dark Sunday dress and a veil that she had borrowed from a widowed neighbor. The hurt on her face could barely be seen beneath the net veil that was shining with fine beads of mist that were almost frozen.
Joey Frank’s sister Gloria stood clinging to Mama’s hand, shaking from the cold rain and sniffing back tears. Gloria was frail and sickly as she had been since the fever afflicted her in 1902. Although she was ten years old, she didn’t look a day over six.
When the preacher closed his wet Bible and bowed his head, Joey Frank was the first to go over and leave his finger marks trailing down the wet coffin. Mama and Gloria followed him, whispering their good-byes.
After all the flowers were placed on the grave and everyone began to walk away from the cemetery, Joey Frank stayed. He knelt down and closed his eyes and whispered to his Pa a promise that he was going to be strong for Mama and Gloria and that he would look after them no matter what the cost might be. Joey Frank bravely got up and choked back his tears. He brushed the sticky red mud from the knees of his breeches and quickly walked away from the grave to catch up with Mama and
Gloria. They were headed to the horse and wagon that was waiting to carry them home.
As the grief-stricken family rode down the winding road, it was very quiet except for the squeaking of the old wagon bed rising up and down on the bumpy road. Joey Frank wanted to break the silence, but he found that he couldn’t speak because of the awful lump in his throat.
Finally the Coopers arrived at their small four-room home that sat at the foot of a mountain near Ruby Creek, a little town in northern Georgia. Joey Frank put more wood on the fire that was left smoldering in the fireplace. He went to his bedroom and changed into his everyday clothes and proceeded outside to do the evening chores. Mama and Gloria put their aprons on and began to prepare supper.
Joseph Cooper’s death was sudden. When he didn’t show up for supper, Joey Frank went out to look for him. He found him down by the river not far from their home. He had attempted to rescue a newborn calf that had slid off into the river. The little calf had drowned, and Joey Frank’s Pa lay on the bank of the swollen river, dead from a heart attack, just four days before his thirty-fifth birthday.
“It just don’t seem fair that Pa had to leave us so soon.” Joey Frank was thinking as he milked the cow, pulling her tits too hard, causing her to kick the pail of milk over. “How’s a thirteen-year-ole fella like me gonna make a livin’ for my Mama an’ sickly sister? Well, right offhand I don’t know yit but I’m gonna hafta find a way; that’s for shore. I promised Pa that I’d do sech*, an’ I’m gonna stick to it.” Joey Frank slapped at the cow’s tail when she flopped it across his face. He got up with the half-empty pail of milk and stormed out at the cow saying,
*Southern slang for such.
“Dang, you, Josey Belle Cooper, If you wudn’t so ole, I’d take a stick to yore bony hide for shore. There ain’t anuff milk in this bucket for a cat to sip on, an’ what little’s in here smells like nothin’ but a bunch of wild onions. I told you time after time to stay outta them thangs, but you just won’t lis’n, you old hardheaded fool. What’s got into you?”
Joey Frank had never before fussed at Josey Belle like he had today, but right now he was so hurt and angry at the whole world that he wasn’t thinking straight. The awful thought of his never seeing Pa again made him so miserable that it was hard to show his affection toward the old cow that he usually called his big pet.
That night in his bed, Joey Frank lay listening to the rain beating against the roof. The sound that once was pleasant to go to sleep by had changed now to a lonely rhythm. His mind began to wander back to when he was a very small lad. He thought about the many times when he had gone to the cotton field with Pa, but was too young to give him a helping hand. Pa picked cotton from stalks that were covered with a thin sheet of ice because of an early winter that struck before he had time to completely gather the crop. He remembered that Pa’s fingers would get so cold that he would stop many times and stick them in his mouth to warm them.
As Joey Frank lay there in darkness thinking about Pa and all the things they had done together, he couldn’t help crying, but then he remembered the promise he had made to him at the grave and he knew he had to stay strong. He choked back the tears and wiped his eyes with the bed covers, then pulled them over his head to shut out the lonely sound of the rain.
When he awoke to the rooster crowing the next morning, Joey Frank opened his eyes to see day breaking through the frost-covered windowpanes. He lay there for a moment expecting to hear Pa rattle the stove shuttle, but then he realized that would never happen again. He got out of bed and shivered into his clothes. Starting today he intended to carry on the way Pa had done.
Joey Frank went to the kitchen and made a fire in the cook stove; then he went outside to do the morning chores. As he walked toward the barn with the milk pail, he whistled. Pa whistled more in the morning than he did any other time of day. There had been many times, before Joey Frank had gotten out of bed, Pa would pass by his bedroom window and awaken him by whistling on his way to work in the field. Joey Frank would lie there and listen until Pa was so far away that he couldn’t hear him anymore.
Mama was making breakfast and packing Joey Frank’s lunch pail when he came back inside. She forced a smile in greeting and commended him for being responsible. She added, “Joey Frank, Gloria isn’t feeling well, she’s come down with a cold from standing out in the rain yesterday.” Joey Frank said, “Mama, I’ll stay home from school today if you thank I oughta. I’m up on my studies, an’ I won’t fall behind too much. I can ketch up in no time.”
“No, Joey Frank, I don’t think Gloria is sick enough for you to miss school. I think I can manage with her all right. You best go on and get what learning you can, while you can. Your Pa would expect that of you.”
Mama held back tears as she handed Joey Frank’s lunch pail to him. Again she forced a smile and said, “Don’t worry Son and study hard.”
As Joey Frank began the long walk down the icy road to school, he was careful to dodge the icy puddles. He knew that his well-worn shoes must last him awhile longer. There wouldn’t be money for clothes now because their small savings had been used for Pa’s funeral.
When he arrived at the little one-room country school, he heard his best friend Ernie Brown yell to him from the woodpile. He walked over to where Ernie was down on his knees picking up wood. Joey Frank found Ernie in one of his somber moods, because the teacher Miss Lester had asked him to bring in wood for the fire. Ernie spit out a mouthful of tobacco juice, gave his chin a swipe on the sleeve of his coat and said, “Joey Frank, I didn’t figger that you’d be back at school today, but I’m shore glad you are. Now somebody besides me can tote wood in yonder to keep them fine folks warm. Dang ole Miss Lester, I just cain’t stand her sometimes.”
“How come you so down on Miss Lester, Ernie? I had her figgered as bein’ a mighty fine teacher.”
“Joey Frank Cooper, you must be blind as a ole mule not to see how she pets them folks in yonder that’s got the most money. Why, I’ll bet’cha right now that sweet little Johnny McGraw is a-sittin’ all snug by that big heater, an’ do you know why? ‘Cause he’s too good an’ rich to pick up wood out here in the cold. Them jobs for poor folks like me an’ you”.
At that moment Miss Lester opened the door and rang her little hand bell. Ernie got up off his knees with an armful of wood, and said, “We’d better git on in yonder, Joey Frank, before she sticks her ole ugly face back out an’ threatens to make us stay in at recess.” Ernie snarled up his nose, showing his tobacco-stained teeth, and added, “Danged ole mean hag! They don’t come no meaner’n her.”
Before the boys went inside, Ernie took one of his arms from around the wood to remove the wad of chewing tobacco from his mouth and put it into his coat pocket. He said, “You gotta be tight now-a-days, Joey Frank. You gotta git what’cha can outta what’cha can, even if it ain’t nothin’ but a ole wad of chewin’ tobacker.”
Joey Frank opened the door for Ernie, and they went inside the warm room. Most of the students had taken their seats at their desks, and Johnny McGraw was walking away from the “snug heater,” as Ernie had predicted. Ernie made sure Joey Frank didn’t miss seeing Johnny by giving him, a light kick on the leg and nodding toward him while whispering from the corner of his mouth, “Do you see what I wuz talkin’ about now, Joey Frank Cooper?”
Ernie Brown had brought to Joey Frank’s attention some things he had never noticed very much before. When everyone was seated and quietly studying, he began to observe the people around him. He looked at Johnny McGraw sitting in the front row, wearing his neatly tailored shirt with no patches. Johnny’s breeches were the right length, covering the tops of his polished boots that were practically new.
Joey Frank looked over at Ernie sitting next to him. His breeches were too short, his shoes were worn and run down on the heels. His coat sleeves had holes at the elbows and were soiled from doing chores at home and bringing in wood at school.
When Joey Frank’s eye wandered up the aisle to Mary Rose Garland wearing her pretty dress with satin ribbons in her hair, he thought of Gloria and how proud she would be, to have pretty clothes like Mary Rose to wear to school.
Joe Frank then gazed at Miss Lester sitting behind her desk writing. Her white hands bore no calluses to be ashamed of when she attended church. Joey Frank thought of Mama and how she would rub clothes against a ridged washboard that caused her hands to be red and scaly. She would never remove her gloves in church.
Joey Frank couldn’t get interested in the history book that lay before him. He was glad when Miss Lester finally said that the class was dismissed for recess. He opened his lunch pail and got out one of the sweet potatoes that had baked overnight in the hot ashes in the fireplace at home. He went outside where Erniewas waiting and divided the potato to share with him. Ernie usually ate a big breakfast and didn’t bring a lunch to school.