Through the Eyes of Innocence Chapter 10

Sho-o-o-t…me an’ my daddy use ta sit on the front porch of da Ponderosa down in da country for hours an’ hours at a time just doin’ nothin’. I sho’ did like to hang out wid my daddy. He usta come ‘n’ pick me up on Sat’days an’ we’d go ridin’ off to da Ponderosa. I liked dat name. I figured it was a good name ‘cause it was a big ole pond right in front of da front porch at da Ponderosa. Now, I could understand jus’ why Daddy called it dat…’cause it had a pond. But, I couldn’t figure out where the “rosa” part came from. Maybe dat was the name of his girlfriend in high school or sum’thin’. I ‘on’t know. All I know is dat I use ta sit next ta Daddy just watching them fish jump up an’ down in dat water whilst he whittled dat ole piece of wood into all kinds ‘a straight shapes. Sometimes, it would come out kinda curved but most times it was just a straight stick with a fiercely sharp point at da end. Daddy’s whittlin’ stick only got kinda curvy when he’d start to talk about how hard times was down in da South. He’d go on an’ on about da plight of da po’ people down here. Daddy’s hands use ta get ta trembling when he talked like dat. I just wished he wouldn’t upset hisself like dat. Me, I just didn’t see it being all dat troublesome. I liked livin’ just where I was livin’. We had a big ole house on da hill in town with a big ole backyard where my friends would come an’ we'd play football an’ baseball an’ all kinda fun stuff. We’d stop ta rest an’ Ma’ Tu, my gra’maw, would bring us big ole tall glasses of red kool aid with lemons squeze in it. I sho' did like to suck on them lemon seeds floating ‘roun’ in dat red kool aid. Just talkin’ ‘bout it now makes me wanna smack my lips an’ say “ahhhhh”. I just couldn’t see where things was so bad for po’ folks down South. Weren’t much to do ‘cept play wid ya friends an’ go to school an’ have fun anyway. We had good food to eat so I just ain’t know how we was ‘pose ta be so po’ . Ma’ Tu, my gra’maw, usta cook da best macaroni an’ cheese dat passed through any cookin’ stove!! She sho’ could cook. But, my Daddy said things was tough. I guess I believed him ‘cause of da sad look dat would be in his eyes when he talked ‘bout it...an’ da way his whittlin’ stick took on dat strange curve’ shape.

2
Me an’ my daddy, we would sometimes meander on down to da pond. Dat was da most biggest pond my teeny-weeny eyes had ever seen!! Dat pond musta stretched from one end of da world to da next!! Boy, an’ them fish!! Dey was so many fish dat my daddy said da big ones would just eat da littlest one alive just to make mo’ room in da pond! Dat was not a good picture for me but I guess they got to eat sum’thin’ ‘cause me an’ my daddy sho’ did eat them. Yeah, we would walk down da hill to da pond an’ just sit there looking at da reflection of them trees across da way in da water. It usta look like they was doing da "wave". Dat were pretty cool da way da sunlight sparkled off dem as dey shimmied an’ swerved cross dat pond water. I usta sing a song an’ pretend them trees was jammin’ to da beat. Dat was fun! My daddy would pat his feet an’ play like he was enjoyin’ my bad singin’. He was good at playin’ stuff wid me. Most of all though, we would jus’ sit there thinkin’. When he would be tellin’ me some of da things he was thinkin’ ‘bout, Daddy usta spit in da water to kinda let me know dat he had made a good enough point. I didn’t believe dat them fish wanted to swim ‘round in no Red Man tobacco juice. But, they ain’t died from it yet. It seem dat da onliest thing sendin’ em to meet they maker was at da business end of me an’ my daddy’s fishing poles. Yes siree…we sho’ did like fishin’ but a whole lot mo’ better was just sittin’ an’ watchin’ them trees dance in dat sunlit water.

3
Da bestest part of all dat we did when me an' my daddy went to da Ponderosa on Sat’day was da ride in his big ole white station wagon. My daddy, he had da cooles' car in da whole world to me. I on’t know nothin’ ‘bout what year or what da name of it was ‘cause all da words dat was wrote on it was tore off an’ it was some holes where da name shoulda been. My cousin said it was a Ford but I ain’t give two bits minus a hill a beans fo' what da name of it was. All I had to know was it was my daddy’s station wagon an' I love't to ride in it. Ma’Tu would dress me all up in my blue jean over-alls, (corduroy if it were in da wintertime) wid da red tag stickin’ out sideways on da back pocket an' my Buster Brown shoes an' white socks an' I would be waitin’ fo’ my daddy wid bells on. I’d be so dad-blamed excited that it were Sat’day again that I’d almos’ be too tired to visit from runnin’ to da window looking fo’ him til my eyeballs run water. When he finally drives up in Ma Tu driveway, I be sweating like mule. I’d run as fast as I could an' jump up ‘round his tall handsome neck, drown him wid kisses jes’ knowin’ I was in fo’ a treat. After kissin’ Ma Tu bye an' promisin’ to be good, I would run to da back of da station wagon an' wait fo’ da grown folk to get done “‘changin’ da pleasant-trees’”, as dey say. Boy, I could not wait for him to let dat power window down in da back. My daddy, he could let dat window down whilst he was just sittin’ at da sterning wheel… in dat front seat!!! ...without even touchin’ it. Dang!!! It was jes’ like magic!!...like on da space ship movies we watch on Sat’day mornin’s fore my daddy would come an’ pick me up. Man oh, man…dat was sum’thin’ to see. An' when dat back window would come all da way down, my daddy would come and open da bottom part dat swung open just like them other doors up front and I would climb in an’ sit wid my face looking out da station wagon backwards. Dat sho’ was strange…lookin’ out da world backwards like dat. But I sho’ did like riding in reverse in my daddy’s station wagon. He would hop into da front an' off we’d go, a-blazin’ through da countryside on our way to da Ponderosa. Sometimes when I was lookin' out da back, it would look like da whole world was openin’ up and jes’ lettin’ us pass through…kinda like some kings ‘n’ queens or sum’thin’. An' when we’d pass through, da grass an’ flowers on both sides of da road would bow an’ curtsy to us an’ kiss our cheeks wid da soft breeze coming through them windows in front dat my daddy let down to get us some air...an' it sho' smelt good. 'Dem fancy flowers on da side of da road sound like they be whisperin' our name as we be cruisin’ down da highway. Den, other times it would look like we was bein’ swallowed up by some big mouth super creature kinda like da one on them space ship movies we usta watch on Sat’day nights after my daddy brung me back home to Ma’Tu house…like all da passin’ scenes was da sides of his tho’t jes’ swallowin’ us down! Man, now dat was some scary thinkin’. I ain’t like to think like dat. I usta like ta think dat everythin’ was good and perfect…an’ in my world, it was. Yes, siree buddy, we was not po’ folks then, even to Daddy. We was royalty just a-tourin' ‘round dis big ole world in our super cool white station wagon.

4
I had been to da Ponderosa a thousand times an’ I could find my way wid my eyes closed…or wid my back turn’t . We’d be zippin’ down dat highway at breakneck speed…sho-o-o-t…seem’t like we was gonna cause one of dem sonic boom things we be hearin’ at night dat my cousin said was airplanes movin' faster ‘dan the speed of sound. ‘Dat was hard to imagine but I figured sound must really move out. Heck, we was almost goin dat fast, if ya ask me, but I would know jes’ when we would come into da first little town dat stood between me an’ my daddy an’ da Ponderosa. My daddy would break it down an’ fall so smooth into dat deep curve dat signaled we was coming into da city limits. Me an’ my daddy would always lean into da curve when we was goin’ in it. Daddy would lean to da right an’ I’d lean to the left (‘cause I was riding backwards, you know). Then we’d upright ourselfs when our cool white station wagon leveled itself off an’ we would know we was smack dab in the middle of town, right in front of Mr. Bicks town mercantile store. I didn’t rightly ‘member seeing anythin’ in da store that had mercantile writ on it, but I guess Mr. Bicks sold mercantiles jes’ like he sold everthin’ else. Maybe he was fresh out of dem on Sat’days. Sometimes, me an’ my daddy would pull over off da side of da road an’ go in an' buy sum’thin’ from Mr. Bick’s store. My daddy would buy us some zuzu’s an' soda water. I liked da grape Cub soda water. It had a little fat bear on da front an’ da soda water tasted so good when you looked at dat bear when ya took a swig. I 'member when I swig dat soda water so hard it came flyin' outta my nose an' eyes an' ears', it seem't like. ‘Dat was so cool. Sometimes, we would even have some left over bottles in da car an’ Mr. Bick would give us “return for deposit” money. Mr. Bick musta been as rich as duck dressing ‘cause he would give us a whole nickel for each one of dem Cub soda water bottles we brung back to his store. Sometimes, me an' my daddy would have as many as seven soda water bottles in the car. ‘Dat was 35 whole cents. Dad-gummit!!!! All dat money…man!!! I could buy me another box of Milk Duds an’ a couple of Jack’s cookies straight outta that glass jar on the front counter; or, if I wanted to, my daddy would jes’ let me keep da money an’ put it in my overall pockets. I usta like to hear money jangle in my front pocket. But, sometimes, when my daddy be goin’ off on how po’ folk in the South is havin’ it so bad, I would play like I ain’t want no zuzus or no pocket change this week. I’d let my daddy keep it an’ pay off some-a his bills. Sho’ly all dat money could set him straight. At times, I figured my daddy musta been living above his means if all dat Cub soda water money couldn’t get him outta da hole!!

5
I sho’ did like ridin’ out to da Ponderosa. When we’d drive off from Mr. Bicks mercantile store, me an’ my daddy would git back on da road. Right after we be leavin’, daddy would slow down ag’in for da KCS railroad track. Dere was about five diff’ernt tracks to cross over an’ my head would bump up an’ down every time we hit one. Man, sometimes dem red flashing railroad lights be on an’ me an’ my daddy would git to see a big old locomotion passin’ through. At times, dat locomotion be havin’ lots o’ cars pullin’ ‘hind it but, most times, it don’t have all dat many ‘cause dey ain’t like to hold up da traffic dat long. We would wave out da window at da locomotion drivin’ man an’ when da end of it would come, we would wave at da man in da caboose (dats da tail end of da locomotion, you know). An’ off we’d go. Dey was nine diff’ernt curves in da road twix da railroad track an’ da gate to da Ponderosa….nine of ‘em!!...an’ my daddy sho’ could fall in dem curves like a race car driver. Dere we was: a-leaning to da right an’ a-leaning to da left…crusing our butts off! I would know well jes’ when we was gittin’ close to da Ponderosa ‘cause I would count dem curves. After curve number nine, I would crawl up in da front seat wid my daddy so I could see mo’ better when we git to our turn off. An’ lo an’ behold, dere it were. My daddy would wheel our big old white station wagon to da right an’ we be up in dere! Da road dat went down to da Ponderosa was da longes’ dirt road I ever seen. It had to be a mile long if it was an inch!! Boy, we be passin’ Mr. James ‘nem house an’ Miss Bessie Mae house an’ dey would always be on da front porch. So, everybody would be jes’ a-waving to each a’nother. Mr. James and Miss Bessie Mae, dey is da ones who feed my daddy cows an’ keep up da Ponderosa so me an’ my daddy wouldn’t have to do nothin’ but sit an’ think when we come on Sat’days. ‘An dem cows!! Dey is so stupid. When we be comin’, dey be runnin’ out by da road to meet us but some of dem would be walkin’ right in da middle of da road we be riding on!!..in front of our white station wagon! Dem is some dumb cows. My daddy would be a-blowin’ his horn over an’ over an’ dey would take off to a slow trot but dey be still in da road!! No wonder we be eatin’ dem cows. Somebody got to save dem from deyself. My daddy say we got over four-hunderd head of cows an’ one thousan’ acres of farm land but I ain’t never seen not one row of collard greens or one tomato plant growing on daddy farm land. I thought you is suppose to have a garden somewhere on a farm but I guess it jes’ weren’t that kinda farm to daddy. I guess it were jes’ fo’ da cows an’ stuff an’ jes’ fo’ fishin’ an’ sittin’ an’ thinkin’. Man, dem was da good ole days.

6
When me an’ my daddy would finally git to da gate at the Ponderosa, I’d jump out da car an' run like da wind so I could open it fo’ my daddy to drive through. Dat gate was so big an' heavy but I was strong an' I could jes’ snatch dat padlock offa dat chain an' jes’ swang it open wid the greates’ of ease. I had to be careful not to step in dem gaps right under da gate ‘cause dem were fo’ da cows so dey won’t get out through da gate. My daddy said dem was cattle gap an' I never ‘member seein’ not one of dem cows step on dat cattle gap. My daddy say dem cows feets gits confused when dey is not on solid ground. I guess dey cow feets ain't no smarter dan dey cow heads. I ‘on’t really see though why my daddy ‘ud go ta all dat trouble to put dem cattle gaps at da gates. Dem cows was too stupid to unlock da gate anyhow. I guess dat’s why dey usta jes’ kick down da fence an' step over da barb wire an’ walk da Ponderosa road whens ever dey please. Dem cows was sum’thin’ else. Man, an’ dey know dey could have da mos’ unconcerned look on dey face. Dey look like dey couldn’t care less if da sun shine or not. Dey be jes’ a-mooin’ an’ a-gawkin’ at ya’ wid dem big ole sad lookin’ eyes. I be wonderin’ what be goin’ on in dey head. Maybe dey be thinkin’ ‘bout when Mr. James go bring some mo’ of dat good ole crispy hay fo’ dem to eat. I ‘on’t see much else dey could be thinkin’. An’ dey would run over to da gate when I open it fo’ my daddy an’ ‘fore he could put dat big ole white station wagon in drive to ride through dat gate, dem cows would all be gatherin’ ‘round like dey know’d it was us. I ain’t like it bein’ dat up close to no cow. I was always kinda scared of dem. I cain’t trust nothin’ dat I cain’t figure out what they be thinkin’. An’ as soon as we park in front of da front porch on da Ponderosa, dey would be trottin’ right up to da porch an dey be surroundin’ us like dey be wantin’ to ambush us or sum’thin’ but they never did. Lookin’ back, dem was kinda peaceful cows but I ain’t wanna take no chances. A cow ain’t da mos’ smartes' creature in da world.

I sho’ wish dat Ma’Tu ‘ud come wid us sometimes. Ma’Tu, she ‘on’t like to go nowheres. She jes’ like ta cook an’ clean an’ burn trash in da backyard in dat ole burnin’ barrel. Ma’Tu really ain’t had time fo’ much socializin’. She said she had too much work ta do ta be traipsin’ up an’ down da streets. An’ she sho’ did do a lots ‘round our house. She’d wash clothes every day da sun come up. Sometimes she ‘ud let me help her run da big bed spreads through da wringer washin’ machine. I was so scared dat my fingers was gonna git pulled through wid dem bed spreads and git mashed as flat as da floor. Lawd ha’mercy!... Ma’ Tu! She could wash a load of clothes an’ have dem hung out on da line ‘fore you could git outta da bed in the mornin’. Sometimes, when she got a late start, which was not very of'en, she would git me to help her hang out dem towels on da clothesline. I’d much rather run clothes through the wringer ‘cause she made me hang dem towels up in color-code order. Da white face towels had to go first (beginnin’ left ta right, of course), den da pink, den da red, den da blue (light blue ‘fore dark blue, nat’chly), den da lime green, olive green an' forest green. An’ da hand towels had to go in da same order as did dem big towels. I ain’t never figured out why dem towels wouldn’t dry outta sequence but if I made a error an' one of dem was outta strict color-code order, she would flounce down dem back steps wid dat checkerboard house dress on she wore on washin' day an’ come an’ start unclippin' dem clothespins so she could organize dat clothesline to her specifications. She ain't never said nothin' bout me sometimes gittin' 'em outta order but I could tell by the speed she snatch'd 'em down off dat clothesline dat she throught I weren't never go be no seasoned laundry worker. Ma’Tu clothesline ‘ud look like a artistic masterpiece ...almos' like a rainbow stretch'd crossways or sum'thin'. Boy…she sho’ was picky!...but she sho' was cool.

7
Afte’ me an my daddy would git through spendin’ da day down at da Ponderosa, we ‘ud jes’ do da same thin’ we did to git dere ‘cept only in reverse. We ‘ud drive outta the Ponderosa gate, den I ‘ud close it an’git in the car, we ‘ud head on back ta town. Sometimes we’d stop at Mr. Bick store on da way back but usually I be too tired an’ burn’t out an’ sleep all the way back to Ma’Tu house. It be funny how when you be sleep in a rollin’ car an’, like in the next split second it seem, you be where you be goin’. My daddy would pull up in our driveway an’ I ‘ud wake up jes’ like I know’d we was finally home. Sometimes, when I wake’d up, I ‘ud be in my bed all tuck in wid my shoes off an’ ever’thin’. Ma’Tu said my daddy brung me in an’ put me in da bed an’ cover’t me up an’ laid a big ole juicy kiss right on my head. Even after I woke up, I usta could still feel his mustache where it tickled my face where 'bout he kiss me at. Sometimes, I ‘ud be woke when we’d git to da house in town an’ jes’ like clockwork, Ma’Tu ‘ud be at the back door lookin’ an’ waitin’ fo’ me. I really think she miss me when I be gone wid my daddy but she were jes’ the kinda person who didn’t mind sharin’ wid somebody else. Of course, dat were my daddy but I stay’d wid her so I guess I really belong’t to both of ‘em. Dey sho’ did do a good job spreadin’ me ‘round twix ‘em. Other times, if we ‘ud come back right ‘round four o’clock, Ma’Tu ‘ud be out dere at dat burnin’ barrel chunkin’ trash out. At perpendicular four o’clock, ever’ body know’d it were her time to burn trash an’ she ‘ud be out dere like she was clockin’ in ta a real job. She ‘ud light a piece of paper wid some kitchen matches, ‘cause dey ‘ud strike on da side of da burnin’ barrel real good, an’ set a fire to da trash of da day. But, any self-respectin’ experienc'ded trash burner know’d dat you had to sift out da cans an’ bottles from da paper trash ‘fore you burn’t it. So, Ma’Tu ‘ud have her pile of bottles over to one side an’ her tin cans an' spray cans on da other side. She sho’ did know how to burn trash good. An’ when dat fire ‘ud git to blazin’, I love’t to watch dem sparks fly ‘round in da air. Dey look like lightin’ bugs or shootin’ stars or sum’thin’. Ma’Tu ain’t like me to git too close ‘round dat barrel ‘cause she said we has to practice fire safety. Yet, she ‘ud be at dat barrel wid a long stick jes’ a-stirrin’ in dat fire herself. I ain’t wanna git burn’t so I stay on da back steps watchin’ her do her four o-clock duty. She were a pro an’ she never got burn’t from da burnin’ barrel but I do ‘member one time when da phone rang’d an’ it were Miss Ella, Ma’Tu best phone friend, an’ she went in da house ta talk. She like talkin’ to Miss Ella but she said Miss Ella ain’t know’d when ta hang up. So, Ma’Tu ‘ud knock on da wall an’ play like somebody were knockin’ at her front door an’ dats how she ‘ud git Miss Ella offa da phone. But, dis day, Miss Ella were tellin’ her ‘bout somebody who had died an’she ain’t git off da phone in time ‘fore dem sparks from da burnin’ barrel blowed right through da air an’ set fire to Miss Leen fence next door. Boy, now dat were da highlight of da week!! Ever’body who were passin’ by gittin’ off work at five o’clock seen da blaze an’ stop to help put out da fire. Lookin’ back on it, it were not dat bad but at the time it look like one of dem California fores’ fires! Peoples was out dere wid buckets an’ water hoses hollin’ an’ barkin’ out orders to each a’nother tryin’ to snuff dat fire out. Boy, peoples sho’ will come to da rescue when ya in trouble. We ain't had to call no fire department 'cause dey got dat fire out in no time flat! An’ Ma’Tu an’Miss Leen set a card playin' table out by da side of da fence dat weren’t burn’t an’ put some homemade oatmeal cookies an’ fresh-squeze orange juice on it fo’ dem peoples who stop by ta help save da fence. It almos’ turn’t to a party ‘cause it were so many folks who stop’ed to help an’some who jes’ stop'ed to look. Dem nosey-rosies was welcome to eat homemade cookies an’ drank orange juice too. We ain’t care!! Ma’Tu, she jes’ like to share wid others. Now, dat were a day ta ‘member…oh, yeah, it were but I ‘on’t think Smokey da Bear woulda give Ma’Tu no badge fo’ fire safety dat day!!

8
Da Lawd sho’ is good to po’ folks. Since we is po’ folks, accor’in to my daddy, He musta know’d dat we could use a little help now an’ den. Jes’ a whilst afta MaTu caught fire to Miss Emma fence an’ all dem quite neighborly folks help’d us put out dat fire, thangs kinda start’d to look up fo’ us. My daddy said jes’ afta that, he sold some cows from da’ Ponderosa and he says he got a real good price fo’ dem an’ we ain’t have ta count our pennies as close as we usta. I ‘member when me an’ MaTu had to “squeeze a penny ta gag a dime”…dat’s what my daddy said we usta hafta do. I could’nt quite get a good picture of a thin dime pukin’ up change but it was funny to hear my daddy say wise sayin’s like dat in a way dat regular peoples could understan’. But life started gittin’ good ‘cause one Sat’day my daddy comes up ta pick me up and he was drivin’ a big old shiny black Cadillac. Boy, dat car look’d jes’ like da one Mr. Bob from da big funeral home up da street usat be drivin’. It was real nice an’ da inside of dat car smelt like da furnitu’e polish MaTu be cleanin’ our dinin’ room table wid. H-m-m-m, I can jes’ smell it now! An’ dat paint was so shiny dat I could see my whole face on da front fender. I jes’ stood and glar’d at dat nice fine automobile. An’ whilst da grown folks was chewi’ da fat inside da house, I was settin’ out dere under dat sturrin’ wheel and play’d like I was drivin’ it. All dem shiny knobs look’d like new money! I sho’ wish my friends ‘ud come by right now an’ see me propped back in my daddy nice ride but dey know’d I be goin’ way on Sat’day mo’nin’s an’ dey ain’t never come by on Sat’day mo’nin’s. But, I sho’ wanted dem to see me now. An’ when we went ridin’ in it, it was like we was not even hittin’ no holes in da road or nothin’. It was smooth an’ a little too quiet inside wid dem windows all roll’d up. My daddy say we gotta keep da windows up ‘cause his bran’ new Cadillac had automatic air conditionin’ in it. I ‘on’t know if I were gonna like ridin’ in no car where ya cain’t roll no windows down an’ let da breeze blow ya hair in da wind. But, it was a real nice car. It wer’nt nothin’ like my daddy big old white station wagon but it sho’ come in a close second.

9
I sho’ did love my Sat’days wid my daddy but one thang fo’ sho, my Sundays wuz all booked up. I wuz woke up at 6 o’clock in da morn’in every single Sunday to go to Sunday school. I ain’t too much mind gettin’ up early to go visitin’ wid my daddy, but I wud always get a bee in my bonnet when I had to git up early ‘nuf to tote the sun in on Sunday. Sunday school ain’t start til 9 o’clock so I ain’t see no need on God’s green earth why I had to git up dat early to get ready for church. Ma Tue’, she ain’t never went to church wid us but she sho’ did make it her heaven-sent duty to save my po’ soul. She say she ain’t need to go nowheres to talk to God cuz He know’d jus’ where she live and she ain’t trust no second-hand messages from the Lord. I wondered why He ain’t know my address too?...why I had to git all spruce'ed up and carted off to da chuch house for Him to notice me? She say Him and her wuz ole friends and they understood each ‘n other just fine. I figured Ma Tue’ jest wanted to have some “me” time wid herself on Sunday mo’nin so she could holla and cheer on Jimmy Swaggar' on the TV in private. Ma Tue’, she know she loved some Jimmy Swaggar'. Me, myself, I jest hate to see a grown man cry but she seem’d to enjoy watchin’ him sob and slobber on dat camera fo' da Lord. But Oh, Lawd...when Ma Tue’ fount out Jimmy Swaggar' was a who’ monger, she cried as hard as Jimmy did and she ain’t never turnt on Jimmy Swaggar' ag'in on Sunday mo’nin…guess Ma Tue’ finally figured out dat Jimmy wuz hollin’ “hally lu yer” in mo’ places than on Channel 3.

10
Livin’ in da South weren’t all dat bad to me. Da ole folks would talk about how much preje’dise wuz goin’ on down here. I ain’t really know what dat word meant but it sho’ did brang on a ‘motional conversation from Ma Tue and her sisters, Bessie Mae and Hattie Ruf. Dey would sat out on da front porch in de evenin’ and jaw jeck ‘bout ever’body and ever’thang and preje’dise was one of dem thangs they jus’ couldn’t seem to git ova. 'Seem like preje'dise was a 'flickshun of da South and sometime I wonder if dey got da preje'dise up in da No'th or Eas' or Wes'. 'Way Ma' Tue talk, it look like it was jest a festerin' of da folk in da South.
One fine evenin’ when Ma Tue and her sistas had took dey bafts and dressed all up real purty and pulled dey chairs ‘tween da houses so dey could set outside and watch de road and talk, dere came a big old rukus of folks runnin’ down da road wid sticks and stones and skillets followed by pick up trucks wid folks ridin’ ten deep on da back of dem hollerin’ and screamin’ to da top of dey lungs! School busses was pickin’ up folks in da middle of da road and even puckwood trucks was loaded wid folks and a’flyin’ down da road takin’ the curve in fron’ our house on two wheels. Mr. Willie, dat’s Miss Shugs’ son who live back o’ our house on da back street was runnin’ thru da trail tryin’ to git a ride to whereso'neva ever’body was headed when Aint Bessie Mae stopped him dead in his tracks and as’ed whut da hell was goin’ on! Mr. Willie, Miss Shugs’ son, said somethin’ ‘bout a man being ‘rested and casterated downtown in da city jailhouse. I ain’t know what all dat meant but I know’d it weren’t nothin’ good. Mr. Willie, Miss Shugs’ son, grabbed him a limb from our Chineyberry tree and took off like a bat outta hell and hopped on da back o’ a truck dat had slowed down in da curve in fron’ our house. Dang!!...Mr. Willie made dat landin’ on dat tailgate at full clip.
‘Bout dat time ours phone wuz rangin’ and Ma’ Tue went in da house to see who was callin’ her. When she came outta da house, she jest set down and hung her head down lookin’ at nothin’. Her sistas, Aint Bessie and Aint Hattie Ruf jest set dere waiting fo’ Ma Tue to git her thoughts together but I know’d just like I know’d da backa my hand dat she weren’t go say a doggone thang ‘long as I wuz sittin’ dere lookin’ down her th’oat. So I got up like I had jest ‘member’d I had sumthin’ impo’tant to do and meander’d ‘round da backa da house. But in times like deze, I always kept a plan “B”. I goes to da backa da house and crawlt under da back steps and shinnied myself all da way to da crawl space unda da front porch where I could hear whut dey wuz sayin’ widout dem seein’ me. From ‘perience, I know’d dat in order to be in da know, I had to have a plan “B” ‘cause grown folks’ plan “A” never did include chilluns list’ning to whut dey had to say in time’ of trouble…and dis seem’d like some hell’fied trouble right here. When I gits to my eve’droppin’ position, dey was already talkin’ bout Donnie Ray, dat’s Miss Sadie’s son who had a real good job in da city but couldn’t control his appetite fo’ womens. He had dat reppytation in da town. He ain’t care what color dey wuz jest as long as dey had a dresstail he could crawl up und’r. When I finally got the dust settl'd 'round me and shook of some o' dem spider webs, Ma Tue and her sistas wuz in mid-sentence ‘bout how Donnie Ray had got caught wid some woman and her daddy had caught dem together and da woman sez dat Donnie Ray had took her “self” from her. I sez to myself, “whut da heck do dat mean?” but I ain’t had time to ponder my own questions cuz the conversation in da front yard ‘tween da houses kept goin’. Ma Tue went on wid da story dat da woman’ daddy call da police on Donnie Ray and dey come and beat him up some awful, drug him off to da jailhouse and casterated him and all da folk in town was headed downtown to bust Donnie Ray outta da jailhouse or bust some heads or one.
All of a sudden, Ma Tue and her sistas, Aint Bessie Mae and Aint Hattie Ruf jumped up from dey chairs and run to da edge of da yard and, from where I wuz unda da house, even I could see da black smoke risin’ up in da air in da direction of downtown. Looks like da whole world was a’burnin’ up down dere. Oooooou-Wee…sho’ wuz a lotta smoke. All we could her wuz sireens blarin' ever'where!! When Ma Tue phone start to rang ag’in, I nearly jump outta my skin ‘cause I jest had a bad feelin’ dat somethin’ evil was in da air. Ma Tue come outta da house ag’in and tol’ her sistas, Aint Bessie Mae and Aint Hattie Ruf, dat da folk’ had set downtown a’fire and da jew’lry sto’e, da groce’y sto’e, da feed sto’e and some mo’ sto’es wuz a’blazin to high heaven.
Aft’a a few hours of phone rangin’ and gossip totin’ from folk either headed to or from the big ruckus downtown, the sun start’ to set but da’ black night could not cover da’ hot blaze pointin’ it’s nimble fangers t’ward da sky t’ward da direction of downtown or could it blacken out the fear and de'stress and pain in da air dat wuz thick 'nuff to cut wid a butter knife. An’ I jest laid dere unda da crawl space unda da front porch an' wonder if dis had sumpin’ to do wid bein' 'flick'd with dat preje'dise thang in da South.

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(Hi, Fellow Readers, ‘Riters and Reviewers. This story is coming together so well; so, I have decided to continue this book in private and try to get it published when it is completed. It is a work of fiction but I have borrowed from so many of my childhood experiences that it has become a very emotional venture for me. I hope you have enjoyed this "sneak peek" of the first few chapters. Look for “Through the Eyes of Innocence” later in the year…hopefully, on somebody’s Best Seller list!! Thank each you for your encouragement and comments! Y’all are the Greatest!!!)

Luv,
Alex