Listen To Me Honey (2 page)

Chapter Two

The pickup didn't ride too bad
until Art turned off the blacktop onto the rough country road, clay
red and full of potholes. Amanda bounced up and down like a yo-yo
when Art hit the potholes. She had to cover the top of her head
with her hand to keep from hitting the cab. Depending on which way
the curves twisted, she leaned into her grandma, or Tansy leaned
into her.

Finally, Amanda spoke up. “Grandpa,
are you driving too fast?”

“Nah, I don't think so. Just about like common.
Wouldn't make much difference anyhow if it's the bouncin' you're
worried about. The springs on yer side the pickup are shot. Just
need to get some new springs one of these days. Yip, this old rig
just needs new springs,” Art rambled.

So far all Amanda had seen was
timbers, pastures filled with grazing cattle and houses spaced far
apart. “How much farther is it to the farm?”

“We're almost home,” Tansy answered. “This part of the
county is called Pleasant Valley. We think the name fits. It's a
right nice and friendly spot to live.”

“Have you always lived here?” Amanda asked.

“Ever since your grandpa and me got married and bought the
farm. Bet you're hungry. Grandpa and I have a few chores to do
before supper. After we eat, we can turn in early so ya get a good
night's rest.”

Amanda asked, “What kind of
chores?”

“I
have to gather eggs, and Grandpa milks two cows. Won't take
long.”

Art slowed and turned into a narrow lane lined
with trees on both sides. He drove over
a series of parallel metal bars
installed in the lane over a ditch
at a gap in the fence line. Driving over
the bars rattled just a shade louder than Amanda's eye teeth. “What
was that?”

“A
cattle guard. The cows won't cross it and get out. Saves us putting
in a gate we'd always have to get out to open and shut,” Art
explained.

“There's home.” Tansy pointed at the house on the other
side of a stream.

Amanda didn't have time to look
ahead of them. She stiffened and braced her feet on the floor when
she realized her grandpa wasn't slowing down. “Grandpa, you're
headed right at a creek. Isn't there a bridge close you better
drive over to be safe?”

Art chuckled. “This here is Dye
Branch. It ain't near deep enough to be a worry to drive in. We do
it all the time.” He eased the pickup through the branch, spraying
water onto the windows which blurred their view.

“Why
is that building in the water?” Amanda asked, pointing past her
grandma.

“That's the spring house. We put our milk, butter and any
other food we want to keep cool in there. The branch is spring fed
water which runs under the building and keeps it cool sort of like
a refrigerator,” Tansy explained.

Amanda looked along the bank. She
didn't see a boat. “How do you get to it?”

“Wade,” Art said simply.

Amanda gave her grandparents an odd
look. “Don't you have a refrigerator?”

“We
do now, but it's a small one. Don't hold all we need kept cold. I
never have had enough room in one of those contraptions. Not even
the old ice box. Sure glad we're shut of it though. The ice block
melted too fast. Kept me busy moping when I'd forget to dump the
drain pan,” Tansy said.

“Well, what's a spring?”

“That's water that seeps out of the ground. Lots of springs
around here,” Art explained.

By that time, he gunned the pickup,
drove up a slight incline and stopped in front of the white
clapboard house with a tin roof. The porch took up the front of the
house. Two weathered rockers were by the kitchen door.

“You
don't live in this ---- this little house?” Stuttered Amanda. “I
thought you lived in a mansion in town and just came out here to do
chores.”

Tansy's tongue clicked as she shook
her head. “Now who told ya that? We live here now. This house came
with the farm. We love this old house. Yer daddy was raised
here.

Listen to me, Honey. We feel
fortunate that this farm belongs to us free and clear. Do ya
realize how many folks cain't afford to own their homes?” Tansy got
a head nod from the girl.

“The
house in town is fairly nice I reckon, but not nearly as homey as
this one. We just didn't like it in town,” Art
explained.

“Listen to me, Honey, this house suits us. We don't need a
fancy place. We’ve downsized, and we like it,” Tansy added
adamantly.

“You
moved from town into a little house in the wilderness?” Amanda
couldn't believe her grandparents made such a backward move at
their age.

“Listen to me, Honey, it’s not
as bad as all that. Ya might even get to like our cozy home in
this
wilderness after you're here a few days
,” suggested Tansy,
peevishly.

At the sound of Tansy's cranky
voice, Amanda shrunk down in the seat, wondering how much trouble
she was in now. If her grandparents wanted to get rid of her, she
didn't have any place to go.

Art felt sorry for her. All this
was strange to Amanda. He chuckled. “Heck of a note, ain't it,
Mandie? We moved from that old berg to the wilderness. Weell, come
on, ya gals.” He climbed out of the pickup. “We best get a move on.
I fixin' to get chores done fast. I'm starvin'.”

“You're always starvin',” retorted Tansy as she headed to
the house for her egg pail.

Art patted the side of his leg and
whistled. The dog stood up and perked his ears. “Come on, Jubel. We
got to get those cows into the barn.” The elderly man headed toward
his large barn behind a wooden rail fence. The dog jumped out of
the pickup and loped along side him.

Amanda caught up to her grandma.
“That dog sure minds Grandpa good.”

Tansy stopped and glanced over her
shoulder. She became solemn. “Ever since someone dropped that Heinz
57 off here, he's took over. Yer grandpa got right partial to that
dog in a hurry. Sometimes, Grandpa is more partial to him than me
I'm afraid.”

“Oh,
now, Grandma. I don't believe that. Jubel can't compare to you.
He's just an old dog.” Amanda sympathized.

Tansy gave her a wry smile. “Honey,
don't let yer grandpa hear y'all bad mouth that old dog. Yer
grandpa's right fond of me I reckon, but if he had to choose
between me and his dog, it'd be a toss up fer sure which one of us
won. That's a fact.” Tansy shrugged her shoulders. “Now get yer
fancy suitcase, and come on in. I'll show ya where you're gonna
hang your hat.”

Amanda looked nonplussed. “I didn't
bring a hat. Do I need a hat?”

Tansy chuckled. “You are purely
green, Child. That's just a saying. Means I'll show ya yer
bedroom.”

“Oh,
I see.” Feels like I'm hearing a foreign language. I really need a
translator. Amanda thought as she reached over into the pickup and
wrapped her fingers around the handle on her luggage. When she had
the suitcase out of the pickup and beside her, she looked down. The
front of her tank top and mid section were covered with dust.
Grandma would be happy. She'd have to change clothes after all. A
good washing wouldn't hurt, either.

Jubel barked roughly, and a cow
bellowed behind the barn. Grandpa's husky voice praised, “That a
boy, Jubel.”

Amanda suddenly felt sorry for
Grandma. No wonder the elderly woman was grumpy. She could see how
Grandma felt like the odd one out around here. Come to think of it.
She knew just how Grandma felt. That was how it was for her when
she was in Chicago with her parents.

After she unpacked, Amanda washed
up in the pan of warm water Grandma brought to her bedroom. She
changed into a long sleeve, blue cotton blouse and jeans, hoping
that would please her grandma.

Her bedroom wasn't too bad, but she
didn't have a choice. This house only had two bedrooms. This
bedroom must have been her father's room. The two windows had a
nice view of the branch with the spring house in one direction and
the barn in the other.

The walk in closet was plenty big
to hang all the clothes in. Amanda liked the old fashion dresser
with plenty of drawer space. She studied herself in the big mirror
as she set out her comb and brush set, lipstick, two bottles of
fingernail polish, a bottle of remover, makeup tube, mascara,
deodorant and perfume.

So far, Amanda hadn't seen the
bathroom. Grandma was back from gathering eggs. She was clanking
pots and pans in the kitchen. Amanda didn't finish the tour of the
house, because Grandma was in a hurry to get to the hen house, take
Grandpa two milk buckets and get supper.

The only other door was to Amanda's
grandparents bedroom on the other end of the parlor. So she must
have to go through their bedroom to get to the bathroom. She better
ask Grandma for directions. She didn't want it to look like she was
snooping if Grandma found her in their bedroom.

Tansy was stirring a pot on the
large cook stove. The room was toasty due to the stove's heat.
Amanda admitted to herself it sure felt good to be warm.

Tansy looked over her shoulder and
actually smiled. Amanda hoped that was the reaction her clothes
would get. “Well, y'all sure look better. Nights get cool right
now. Ya will be much warmer dressed like that. Supper will be ready
soon. Want to he'p?”

“Help you do what? I can't cook.”

“Aw,
mercy, we all have to start some time. For tonight, ya can start
with something simple like set the table.” Tansy looked over her
glasses at Amanda. “Ya can do that, cain't ya?”

“Sure, I can, but could you tell me where the bathroom is
first. I haven't been for awhile. I really need to go,” Amanda
said.

“Mercy, Honey! I'm really sorry. I should have thought of
that earlier. Come here and look out the window.” Tansy curled a
finger at Amanda.

“Why
should I look out the window?”

Tansy said, “So I can show ya where
the outhouse is.”

Amanda edged around the table and
over to the counter with two large enameled white pans on it. She
stopped by Tansy. “Is outhouse the same as a bathroom?”

Tansy nodded. “In this part of the
country it is. Ya see that small, upright building with no paint on
it over by that pecan tree. That's the outhouse.”

Amanda gasped. “You go outside to
that little building to go to the bathroom?”

“Sure do.”

“In
the night?” Amanda squeaked as bad as the rusty hinges on the barn
yard gate.

As she turned sausage patties in
the skillet, Tansy said simply, “We do.”

“How
about in the winter when it's cold?”

“The outhouse is all we've got. It's not heated.”
Tansy paused. “Well, I take that back. It is hot in the summer and
feels extra cold in the winter. That means no one ever tarries very
long out there either season.

When I was a youngun, I sure didn't
try to hide out in the outhouse when my mama had work for me to
do.” Tansy giggled, thinking she might be one step ahead of Amanda
if she got that idea. “Go on. Hurry back and get the table set
before Grandpa gets here. You heard him. He's starvin'.”

Amanda started for the
door.

“Uh
oh, wait! Listen to me, Honey. I forgot to tell ya that ya need to
watch when you're outside that y'all don't step on a snake and
particularly around the outhouse.

Look inside on the floor before ya
step in, and check down the holes, too. Copperheads are very
poisonous. We've seen them sunnin' near the outhouse already this
spring.”

Amanda's face paled. “What do I do
if I see one?”

Tansy stuck a big spoon in a kettle
and stirred.“Throw some rocks at it. That scares them away every
time.”

“Where do I get the rocks?”

Tansy turned with the spoon in the air. Be patient, Tansy
old girl. Amanda is really green about country ways. “Anywhere.
Just look down at the ground.”

“Thanks for the warning, Grandma,” Amanda said
half heartedly.

When
the girl stepped out into the yard, she saw various size rocks
scattered in the sparse grass. That reminded Amanda that her mom
once said, Arkansas was more rocks than dirt. Mom knew what she was
talking about.

Amanda stepped lively across the
yard. She really need to get to that outhouse, but she kept an eye
out all around her for snakes. So far so good.

She made it to the slab step and
turned the wooden knob on the door. She opened it, checked out the
floor and stepped inside. With the door closed, it was too dark to
look down the holes.

Amanda opened the door. She
stretched out her leg and held the door open a crack as she leaned
over to see in the holes.

Oh, that's gross! I so didn't need
to see that. From now on, I think I'm just going to take my chances
and sit down.

The smell was really awful. Amanda
pulled her blouse tail up over her face and pinched her nose. She
wondered how long she could hold her breath. Not nearly long enough
to get done and back outside to fresh air she reasoned.