Buddies (6 page)

Joey Frank was the happiest boy in the state of Georgia when he asked his Mama if she still planned to get a job, and she answered, “No. What do I need a job for, Joey Frank? We’ve got everything that we need now.”

In a few days Gloria was able to return to school. Her sharp face was glowing now with pink in her cheeks. On her first day back in awhile, she felt good when she showed off her new dress that Mama had made from the material she bought. She bragged to her friends that her Mama had a dress just like hers, made out of the same blue gingham.

The smell of spring was now in the cool air. The women folks began taking the heavy covers from the beds to hangoutside to soak up the warm sunshine. Grindstones could be heard singing all around the countryside as the men folks sharpened their farm tools, getting them in tiptop shape to start their crops. When Joey Frank spotted the first wild plum blossoms, he picked an armful to put on Pa’s grave. Spring was Pa’s favorite time of the year, and the plum was his favorite fruit. He told Joey Frank that it was the first fruit of the season and God let it bear first for a good reason. Pa believed that everyone should always eat at least “one big bellyful of plums.”

The last day of school was always a sad time for Joey Frank and Ernie. Although there would be Saturdays to anticipate roaming the hills and hollows, there were empty feelings knowing they would be without each other’s company for six whole days.

Joey Frank wore his pa’s shoes the last day of school. He brought Ernie’s old shoes back to him, telling him how much he appreciated the use of them. He explained that the hens were beginning to lay eggs now, and in a few days he should be able to gather enough to sell to the merchants in Ruby Creek to buy a new pair of shoes.

On that Tuesday at two o’clock, Miss Lester dismissed school for the last day of the school year. The boys said their goodbyes with a slap on each other’s shoulders. They departed, saying they would see each other at Joey Frank’s house the coming Saturday.

Everyday for the rest of that week, Joey Frank worked at getting the ground ready for tilling. He raked, piled and burned the dead brush to clear a spot for the vegetable garden. Mama got out the different seeds she had saved in glass jars, from their last garden. She sat on the front porch and poured out each jar separately onto her apron that was spread across her lap. She picked out the bad seed and pitched them to the chickens in the yard. The chickens were eating the seed as soon as they hit the ground. Mama put the good seeds back into labeled jars to be used for planting when the ground became warm enough.

Saturday morning came in a flash. Ernie was on Joey Frank’s doorsteps at the crack of dawn. He had a burlap sack swung around his neck, a lunch pail in one hand, his fishing pole and can of bait in the other. Joey Frank asked, “What’cha got in that sack Ernie?”

“Just them ole shoes of mine. I figgered that you’d like to wear’m fishin’ this mornin’ an’ not hafta mess up yore Pa’s.”

“I’m mighty obliged to you, Ernie. Yeah, I’ll take’m off yore hands to wear today. I’ve got eggs to take to Ruby Creek this mornin’ to sell an’ buy me a new pair.”

Joey Frank took the burlap sack from Ernie and changed into his old shoes. Mama handed him his lunch pail and basket of eggs to carry to the merchants. He also got his fishing pole that stood ready in the corner of the kitchen, so off he and Ernie went to spend the day.

As the boys walked along down the winding road to Ruby Creek, they talked about Banker Tolbert. Joey Frank said, “Ernie, I shore hope that we don’t run into ole Banker Tolbert in town today. That crazy fool might just try an’ kill us agin.”

“We won’t go nowhere around the bank, Joey Frank, ‘cause that’s where the ole fool’ll be for shore. He’d be all propped up behind his fine desk, just like ole Miss Lester, not knowin’ what a hard day’s work is all about. Dang’m, they both just as lazy as all git-out an’ mean as ole Lucifer could ever be.”

“Who’s Lucifer, Ernie? I don’t reckin I’ve ever heard tell of her before.”

“Lucifer ain’t no her, Joey Frank; he’s a him an’ he’s the dang devil.”

“I ain’t never heard him called Lucifer before.”

“That fella’s got a bunch of names. I don’t reckin that his folks could make up their minds what they wanted to call’m.”

The boys walked on at a leisurely pace. They stopped, ate wild plums, laughed and joked about Johnny McGraw’s sissy ways. As they approached the outskirts of Ruby Creek, they could see all the way down Main Street. They stopped short and looked in amazement at an oncoming line of buggies and wagons, Ernie said, “Joey Frank, have you ever seen that many folks a-travelin’ together before in yore life?”

“No, I ain’t, Ernie. Where do you reckin they a-goin?”

“I don’t know, but the way it looks from here, the person that’s first in that line won’t be a-comin’ back for shore.”

“Why do you say sech, Ernie?”

“’Cause the closer they git, the more it looks like a hearse; that’s why.”

“I thank yore right, Ernie, “’cause they turnin’ off now an’ a-headin’ down yonder to that big church.”

“Yeah, that’s where they a-goin’ all right.”

“Who do you reckin died, Ernie?”

“I don’t know, but I bet’cha it’s a person that folks call a big shot. You can always tell by the mourners that follow along first behind the hearse. Now, you take a look at them women folks sittin’ up high in them fancy surreys an’ buggies. You look at all them diff’rent colored feathers they got stuck in them hats they a-wearin’; them ain’t yard chicken feathers that yore lookin’ at. Joey Frank, them’s store-bought feathers that come from no tellin’ where. Now take a look at them men folks, look at them pipes they a-puffin’ on, all shiny, brown, black an’ slim as your little finger! Them thangs ain’t made outta corn cobs; they is fictory made”.

“How’d you learn about all that stuff, Ernie?” Miss Lester ain’t never teached sech in school.”

“Learnt it from Gran’pa Herman on Pa’s side. He wuz a mighty smart man, knowed about ever’thang there wuz to know an’ he wuz the best wart doctor that’s ever been. Folks would come from ever’where to git him to take their warts off. They paid’m money to do sech too, like you’d pay a doctor with schoolin,’”

“Wart Doctors don’t hafta have schoolin’, Ernie?”

“No, they don’t hafta have schoolin’ ‘cause they born with some kind of magic water in their bodies.”

“What’s magic water got to do with takin’ warts off a-

fella?”

“’Cause the magic water is what they take the warts off with, Joey Frank. I reckin that I can go on an’ tell you how Gran’pa went an’ done sech since he’s dead, an’ yore my best buddy; but if he wuz a-livin’, then I shore couldn’t do sech, ‘cause he’d skin me alive. I’ve heard him say many a-times that if he ever heard tell of anybody in his family a-tellin’ how he took warts off, then they couldn’t never set foot back under his roof agin. He wuz mighty strict about his wart curin’. He said that if it ever got out on him on how he cured’m, then folks wudn’t never come back to him agin.”

“Why?’

“’Cause he put pee on the fella’s wart; that’s why.”

“Put pee on the fella’s wart?”

“Yeah, what he’d do is go outta sight somewhere an’ pee on his finger, an’ in a little bit he’d come back an’ put that finger on the fella’s wart. He’d jabber somethin’ that you couldn’t make out, an’ that’d be all there wuz to it. In a few days the fella’s wart would just disappear an’ never come back, not even a trace.”

As far as the boys could see down Main Street, standing on their tiptoes and stretching their necks, there was no end tothe long funeral procession. Joey Frank asked, “Ernie, if that dead person is a big shot, then who do you reckin they are?”

“They could be a gov’nor or a Queen, ain’t no tellin’ who they are. I ain’t never heard tell of gov’nors or Queens ever bein’ from around these parts, but they might be. I just don’t know.”

“If they gonna be put to rest here, Ernie, then it looks to me like they oughta be from around these parts somewhere.”

“Yeah, it does, Joey Frank. If you want to, we’ll go an’ see if we can find out who it is.”

“Go where an’ find out?”

“Down yonder at the church.”

“Shucks, Ernie, we cain’t do no sech a thang as that ‘cause we ain’t dressed fitten to go to a fun’ral.”

“I know that we ain’t dressed fitten to go to a fun’ral, an’ I wudn’t figgerin’ on us a-goin’ to one. What we can do is wait ‘til ever’body’s gone inside the church; then we can crawl to a window at the far end an’ take a peek in to see who’s in the coffin.”

“I don’t see no use of us a-doin’ all that when we won’t know who’s in the coffin, ‘cause we don’t know no big shots.”

“Well heck, if we don’t know who they are, then we can lis’en for their name to be called; then we’d know who they are, won’t we?”

“Yeah, I reckin so.”

“Well, come on; they gonna soon be there. Yonder’s the end of the mourners’ line now.”

The boys walked on to get closer to the funeral procession. They lingered behind the long line of buggies and wagons, staying out of sight because Joey Frank didn’t think their clothes were fit to be seen anywhere near a funeral. Ernie told him to hush up and stop worrying about their clothes. He said that if the mourners did see them, they wouldn’t think anything other than they were just a couple of gravediggers. When the boys were in view of the large white church with its attractive steeple surmounted by a tall spire, they stood back and watched the many horse-drawn vehicles fill the yard that had been freshly swept clean for the occasion. Later, they walked closer and stepped behind a border of shrubbery. They put the things they were carrying down on the ground, and separated the leafy hedge with their hands. They watched the undertakers take the gray coffin from the hearse and carry it up the steps into the church. They saw the men folk step from their carriages, dump out their pipe bowls, and straighten their coats and ties. They spied as the gentlemen politely helped the lady folk step out of carriages with their handkerchiefs pressed against their noses. Joey Frank remarked that he had never before seen such well-dressed people. Ernie responded in a like manner, that the person who was going to be put to rest was no doubt, “a big shot.”

The boys stayed hid and watched from behind the shrubbery until everyone had gone inside the big church; then Ernie said, “Joey Frank, I thank they all inside now. Let’s git on down there.”

When they stepped out into the open, Joey Frank hesitated before he went any farther and said, “Wait Ernie, over yonder’s two colored fellas in the graveyard. They’ll see us for shore.”

“It don’t matter if they do, they just the gravediggers. See yonder at that big pile of dirt they got dug out. They just a-waitin’ on them to git through in yonder so they can bury that person. Now come on; they ain’t gonna pay us no ‘tention.”

The boys went running toward the church. They made their way around the menagerie of carriages and wagons that filled the yard, being cautious not to arouse the horses. When they reached the front side of the large structure, Ernie told Joey

Frank to get on his hands and knees and follow him. They began to crawl along the ground until they reached the backside of the building. Ernie turned his head to Joey Frank and whispered, “We’ll stop right here, an’ look in this here window.”

Joey Frank looked up at the window above his head that Ernie had chosen to look in. He whispered, “What made you wanna go an’ pick the highest window from the ground for?”

Ernie whispered back, “I went and picked it, dumbbell, ‘cause it’s the one that’s closest to the altar, that’s why. You oughta know that’s where the coffin’ll be.”

Joey Frank stayed down on the ground while Ernie got up, stood on his tiptoes and looked through the window. He could see the coffin well and could tell that the corpse was a man. He bent his head down sideways to view the body from that angle. He held the position for a moment. He raised his head back up and bent it down to the other side, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the dead man. In a moment he whispered down to Joey Frank, saying, “That fella a-layin’ in that coffin in yonder looks like ole Banker Tolbert.”

“The heck you say, Ernie Brown.”

“Yeah, he does, looks just like’m. Git up from there an’ take a look for yoreself. Keep your voice down when you commence to talkin’.”

Joey Frank slowly raised up, looked through the window and said, “I cain’t see too good, Ernie, ‘cause yore breath has got the window all fogged up.”

Ernie reached over, wiped the glass with his hand and whispered, “Can you see better now?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Well, what’cha thank? Do you thank he looks like Banker Tolbert or not?”

“I don’t know Ernie, I guess he sorta looks like’m. I cain’t tell if dead folks favor anybody or not. To me they never did favor their own self.”

“Well, can you tell if that woman over yonder a-sittin’ on the front row with that black thang over her face, that’s s’pose to be the fella’s wife, is Miss Rene or not?”

“No, I cain’t Ernie, ‘cause she keeps a-lookin down at the floor, an’ I cain’t git a good look at her face.”

Ernie turned away from the window, saying, “Let’s sit down here for a spell, Joey Frank; my legs is hurtin’. Maybe that preacher’ll git around to callin’ that fella’s name in a little bit.”

Joey Frank replied “From what that preacher’s done said in there, I’m commencin’ to wonder if he’s even got a name. All he’s called him so far, over an’ over is ‘This man, this man.’”

“Preacher’s say that at all fella’s fun’rals, Joey Frank. If that wuz a woman’s fun’ral he wuz a-preachin’ in there, then he’d be a-sayin’, ‘This woman, this woman.’ That’s just a habit that them preachers have got, that’s all. He’ll git around to callin’ his name after a while.”

If the preacher ever called the man’s name, then the boys missed hearing it. During that time, a pain hit Ernie in the stomach, and he had to make fast tracks to a patch of woods. Joey Frank went along with him because he didn’t want to be left by himself.

As they were returning to the church, they heard the choir singing. Ernie said, “The way it’s soundin’ in yonder, Joey Frank, I’d say that it’s a-gittin’ close to the end ‘cause they a-sangin’ that sad song that wuz sung at gran’ma’s fun’ral. If that preacher’s gonna call that fella’s name, then he’ll do it when them folks stop singin’ ‘cause that’s when they about ready to close the coffin lid. He’s gonna jabber some stuff, an’ in ‘twix of what he’s sayin’ he’s gonna be a-callin’ his name. That’s the way they done it when Gran’ma wuz put to rest”.