Фэнни Флэгг - The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

“Well, all right. But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t ever get glasses.”

“I promise. You will always be just a beautiful blur.”

Peggy hated getting older. But Bud didn’t care. He loved the way she looked, even her freckles that she hated. She’d look at herself and say, “I look just like Howdy Doody.”

As Bud said later, “Women look in the mirror and think they look terrible. Men never look and think they look great. And most times both are wrong.”

PINE MOUNTAIN, GEORGIA

November 28, 1993

DOT WEEMS WAS right about time flying by. Ruthie’s seven-year-old daughter, Carolyn Lee, now had a four-year-old little brother named Richard.

This Thanksgiving, Brooks and Ruthie had decided to take them to the Callaway Gardens resort in Pine Mountain, Georgia, for the week, and had rented one of the large cabins by the lake. Bud and Peggy had driven down from Maryland to spend Thanksgiving with them and had just left to go back home.

Brooks and Ruthie were down at the lake watching the kids playing with a few other children. Brooks said, “You were right. I guess I needed a break more than I realized. Of course, Mother is still having a fit we didn’t spend Thanksgiving with her at the club. But it was so good to see your mom and dad.”

Ruthie called out, “Carolyn, stop hitting your brother, and give him his hat back….Now, please.” Then she turned to Brooks and said, “It was good to see them. I know it was hard to say no to your mother, but I want the kids to know their other grandparents. They see your mother every day.”

“You’re right.”

Brooks sat back in his chair, kicked off his shoes, and put his feet in the sand. “You know, Ruthie, I sure do admire your dad. He told me that he’d always wanted to be a veterinarian, from the time he was a kid, and he didn’t let anything stop him.”

“That’s Daddy. He always said you could be anything you wanted, if you tried hard enough.”

Brooks looked a little wistful and said, “When I was growing up, I wanted to be—now don’t laugh—a forest ranger.”

“Really? You never told me that.”

“Yeah. I used to spend hours in the woods behind the house. I always wanted to live in a log cabin by a lake, away from the rat race…but that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not? If that’s what you wanted to do, I’d be happy.”

Brooks looked at her and smiled. “You would, too, wouldn’t you? God, I don’t know how I got so lucky to get you. You’re the best.”

“Thank you, but, sweetheart, I mean it. I don’t need a big house or anything. I want you to do something you love.”

“I know you do. But it was just a kid’s dream. Besides, Dad’s counting on me to step in and take over the business. When he was my age, he did the same for Granddaddy. And he’s the last person on earth I would want to let down. He depends on me. I promised him if anything ever happened to him I’d keep the business going and take care of Mother. And I know it’s hard, and you’re a good sport to hang in there with her. But it won’t be forever, I promise.” Brooks paused for a moment. “Here’s something I’ve been thinking about lately. Ruthie, after the kids grow up, let’s you and me just up and sell the house, and buy ourselves a small place in the mountains somewhere and then take off and travel. I’d love to take you to Paris, and London, and Rome. Maybe buy a big motor home and then just drive around the country, seeing things.”

Ruthie was surprised. “A motor home? Can you imagine the look on your mother’s face if we bought a motor home?”

Brooks laughed. “No, frankly, I can’t. But how about it?”

“Sweetheart, if that’s what you want, we’ll do it. Just promise me you’ll stop working so hard. The kids and I hardly ever see you anymore.”

“I will, but this is just a particularly tough time right now. When Dad got sick, he left a lot of things that have to be taken care of, and, unfortunately, I’m the only one who can do it.”

Just then Carolyn screamed from the edge of the lake. “Mother! Make Richard stop splashing me!”

Richard yelled, “She splashed me first!”

“I did not.”

“Did, too.”

Ruthie looked over at Brooks as the two kids continued to splash and scream at each other. “Remind me. Whose idea was it to have children?”

Brooks laughed. “I can’t remember now.”

SILVER SPRING, MARYLAND

2009

ALTHOUGH HIS HAIR was now completely silver, Bud Threadgoode was still a tall, good-looking man. This morning he was sitting at his desk talking to his daughter on the phone, as he did every Sunday. And after he hung up, he had to smile. Sometimes Ruthie just tickled him to death. She was always coming up with the craziest things she wanted him to do. Get his hair styled, buy new glasses, get a brand-new prosthetic arm with all the bells and whistles, quit wearing his old worn-out wool plaid jacket from the fifties, take up golf. Never anything he wanted to do; however, after protesting as hard as he could, in the end, he always wound up doing what she wanted. Well, almost everything. He still wore his favorite old plaid jacket when she wasn’t around.

Later that afternoon, when Peggy was sleeping, Bud figured he might as well get this one over with, so he sat down at his desk, pulled out a piece of plain white paper, and picked up his pen.

For Ruthie, Carolyn, and Richard, and anyone else who might give a hoot about an old Alabama coot.

I begin my life history, memoir, or whatever you may deem to call it, by confessing it is only being written because my daughter wants me to. I have no illusions of my life being so important that it needs to be set down on paper. However, Ruthie read an article saying that everyone should write out a life history for their family to have in the future. And they should do it while they still remember it. So here goes.

ME IN A NUTSHELL: A BRIEF HISTORY

My name is James Buddy Threadgoode, Jr., at present seventy-nine years of age. I was born at home on December 14, 1929, in the small railroad town of Whistle Stop, Alabama. Upon my arrival into the world, everybody told me that I was the cutest baby they had ever seen, however, since then I have heard that very same sentiment expressed concerning other babies, including some not so cute.

My mother was Ruth Anne Jamison, born in Valdosta, Georgia, in the year 1905. My father was Frank Corley Bennett, also of Valdosta. At the time of my birth, my parents were separated and my mother was living with friends in Alabama.

Although I never knew my father, I have no complaints. I was legally adopted by the Threadgoode family and named for their son Buddy, who died before I was born. I can honestly say I had a very happy childhood. I was raised mostly by two women, my mother and her best friend, Idgie Threadgoode, with a lot of help from the entire town. I was really no different from most other children in Whistle Stop. I did lose half my arm in a stupid railroad accident when I was six, but as far as I can recall, I was happy most of the time, and was certainly the most well-fed kid in town. My mother and my Aunt Idgie owned and ran the town’s cafe. When you live in the back of a cafe, you can bet you never go hungry.

Sadly, I lost my mother to cancer in 1947. After graduating from high school, due to some strong encouragement from my Aunt Idgie—in the form of a threat to kick me in the behind if I didn’t—I attended college at Georgia Tech, then transferred to Auburn University to study veterinary medicine. In 1954, I married the prettiest girl in Alabama, by the name of Peggy Ann Hadley, and never regretted it. I have had a sweetheart all my life. In the year 1966, after my stint in the U.S. Army, we moved to Silver Spring, Maryland. In 1964, my wife and I were blessed with our daughter, Ruthie, who has given me the grandest gift in the world, two grandchildren to spoil.