A CASUAL INTRUDER
Toby was looking
forward to spending time with Eva Lofton later that day; they both would be
hoeing weeds among the cotton stalks in his father’s patch. Toby’s father had already left that morning
to attend a farmers’ committee meeting in the county seat.
Toby was sixteen,
the only child of Ella and James Kemp, a couple determined to improve their
standard of living since the country was
finally coming out of the Great Depression.
The price of cotton had increased over the prices of the past years.
Toby’s demeanor
suggested self-confidence, though no one would have called him a “smart Alec.” He was almost six feet tall and usually walked
at a slow pace except when he was in
uniform on the basketball court. He was
a forward on the team at the consolidated school he attended.
After Toby left
the kitchen that morning, he walked into the front room of the small farm house
his family had occupied as long as he could remember. His mother was sitting on the settee, which
was located at angles in the corner opposite the front door. Beside her feet were an aluminum syrup bucket
that had been converted into a lunch pail and a half-gallon sized Mason jar
that had been wrapped in burlap to keep the water inside it cool.
Toby knew that he
and his mother had some time to wait before Eva arrived. She had to walk from her home, which was two
miles away. He thought of listening to a
local string band, which broadcast its program every weekday morning.
As he reached to
turn on the radio on the table beside the settee, Ella said, “Don’t turn on the
radio. You know the bat’ry is gittin’
weak, and’ we wanna listen to I Love a Mystery tonight.
“Yeah, I wanna
find out if Doc and Reggie git away from them vampire bats in the tower where
they hid from the bad guys. I hope we
git power soon. Then we won’t have to
worry about bat’ries.”
Ella shrugged.
“But then we’ll have to worry about payin’ the light bill every month.”
“How long will we
have to hoe today? I wish Eva would
hurry and git here, so we can git started.
It gits plenty hot out there by ten o’clock,” Toby said.
“You know how long
we work is up to your daddy. He’ll be
back by noon tine. Remember he did not
hire the Lofton girl to keep you company.
Her dad is not able to work; he’s got t.b. His kids are tryin’ to earn a
little money. Don’t talk to that girl
all mornin’ ‘cause the talk slows both of you down on them long rows,” Ella
cautioned.
“Yeah, I know, but
it’s awful temptin’ to talk about school next fall. Eva is goin’ to try out for the basketball
team. Last year very time I got on the bus to go to an away game, I’d be
wishin’ Eva was goin’ with the other girls on the team.”
Ella had begun to
stare into the distance. “I wonder if
Bud Brown found his wife last night.
It’s not the first time he’s gone lookin’ for her, though she hasn’[t
run away lately as often as she used to.
Her and Bud used to fight a lot and when Bud would go to work, Clara
would leave the house, sometimes not even wearin’ her bonnet.’
“What
did they fight about?” Toby asked.
“Oh,
this’n that I guess. Sometimes they
fought because Clara took a notion to re-do the inside of the house though it
might not have been six months since she had a carpenter in there movin’ walls
and cabinets. One room got bigger, the
others littler. I s’pose Bud got tired
of buyin’ the materials and payin’ the carpenter.”
Ella
absent-mindedly touched the burlap on the jar beside her.
“Mr.
Brown sure was nervous yesterday when he come to the field. I wonder where he found his wife,” Toby said.
“Maybe
she went to their daughter’s house. She
lives over at Miller Grove. But the
daughter won’t let her mamma keep hidin’ from Bud. She loves her daddy, too, and feels sorry for him when he gits so
upset.
Yesterday he was almos’
cryin’. I was feelin’ sorry for him,
too. There’s always two sides to a
spat. I think it’s cruel of Clara to
hide from her husband—sometimes two or three days,” Ella said.
Toby
walked over to the lunch bucket and shook it as he picked it up.
“Mamma,
do you thank you packed enough dinner for us?
This don’t feel very heavy.”
“I
packed all of the corn bread that was left from yesterday. Did you git up last night and eat a
snack? I could’ve sworn there was more
bread after we finished eatin’ last night than there was this mornin’ when I
went in to fix breakfast,” Ella replied.
“Maybe
Daddy ate some of the bread. You know he
likes to crumble it in a tumbler of milk,” Toby speculated.
“This
mornin’ your daddy said he didn’t know nothin’ about how much bread was left
over last night,” she said emphatically.
Suddenly
from behind the settee there is a slight rustling noise and the sound of a
sneeze, one of the more peculiar kind of sneezes that come from the human
nostrils.
Toby
stepped back quickly and looked toward the corner of the room from which the
sound came. A woman in a plain cotton
dress, her hair in disarray, stood up and rested her hand on the back of the
settee. Ella stared in amazement at her
neighbor, Clara Brown.
Clara
rubbed her eyes vigorously. “I didn’t
sleep too good,” she said, looking directly at Ella. “O’course, you’d know why. Your husband snores somethin’ awful.”
Clara
continued as if she did not expect a response. “ So Bud was lookin’ for me
yesterday, was he? He didn’t waste
time—he never does. I left the house
after he went back to the field. “
A
bemused expression came over Clara’s face.
“Was his voice shakin’ when he asked fer me? Did he tell you whre he had already
looked? Maybe he looked into the cistern
to see if I’d jumped in there. He’s done
that before.”
Ella
gestured toward the space behind the settee. “Did you lay on that hard floor
all night? How could you possibly git
comfortable there?”
“I
come to your house while you was in the field yesterday. I found a piller on that cot in the back room
and brought it out here. By the way, I
enjoyed listenin’ to Fibber McGee and The Great Gildersleeve last
night. I wonder if Bud had the presence
of mind to listen to his programs. He
was prob’ly too worried about me, “ Clara remarked.
Ella
and Toby looked at each other as if they had just realized how long Clara had
been inside their house.
Pointing
to the bucket and the jar, Ella said, “ We’ve got more hoein’ to do today. We’re jus’ waitin’ for the Lofton girl. She’s goin’ to help us.”
Toby
glanced out the window to see Bud Brown opening the gate and walking into the
front yard. Turning toward Clara, he said quickly, “Your husband’s here.”
Clara
brushed several locks of hair from her forehead. “He prob’ly didn’t sleep a wink last
night. He wants to ask agin if you’ve
seen me. If Bud Brown learned a lesson
from this, I’ll be surprised.”
Smoothing
the sides of her dress, she walked out the front door.
“You
must have seen Eva walkin’ behind Bud Brown.
It’s time we got started hoein’,” Ella said, handing the jar and the
bucket to Toby. Then she looked toward
the settee. “I ain’t ever goin’ to bed
in this house again without lookin’ behind that settee.”
Toby
shook his head from side to side. “That
woman’s crazy. Thanks to her, I’m goin’
to feel hungry all afternoon.”
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BIO
Robert Cowser, a resident of Tennessee, enjoys
writing fiction and non-fiction set in East Texas during the Great Depression or
the World War II years. Recently his works have appeared in
Muscadine Lines and in Fiction/ Non-Fiction, an athology published
at Texas A & M-Commerce.