Фэнни Флэгг - The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

They had a festive evening talking about the old days, and Bud said, “Hey, Evelyn, did Ninny ever tell you about the time Aunt Idgie shot that guy who was trying to kill her cat?”

“No.”

“Or the times when she and my mother threw all the government food off the train to the poor sharecroppers?”

“Yes, she did tell me that. But tell me again.”

Ruthie sat back and listened as Bud told a story she’d heard at least a hundred times, but she was just so happy to see him having such a good time.

Later, as they were taking him back to Briarwood, Bud said, “Thanks for spending my birthday with us, Evelyn. Let’s do it again next year!”

Evelyn said, “You bet, Bud. I’ve already got it down on my calendar.”

Bud got out of the car and walked up to the front door, then turned around and waved goodbye. As she waved back, Ruthie said, “Oh, Evelyn, sometimes he just breaks my heart. I know he’s lonesome. But he’s so brave, never complains, always tries to be cheerful. But I think that’s the reason he tried to find Whistle Stop again. He really misses home.”

“I’m sure he does. I see how he lights up when we talk about it.”

“Oh yes, and the sad part is, his home’s not even there anymore, and there’s not a thing I can do about it.”

“It is sad. But, Ruthie, don’t forget, he has you. And as he says, you really are the best daughter in the world. That cake you ordered for him tonight was just beautiful.”

Ruthie smiled. “It was, wasn’t it? But have you ever seen so many candles on one cake in your life? I thought the poor waiter would never get them all lit.”

“It was a lot of candles,” said Evelyn. “But God bless him, he blew them out. Every last one of them. I wonder what he wished for?”

Ruthie shook her head. “I don’t know, Evelyn. Another year maybe?”

“Well, whatever it was, I hope he gets it.”

—

BUD HAD MADE a birthday wish that night, but it hadn’t been for him. It had been for Ruthie. He wished that she would find something or someone to make her happy again.

FAIRHOPE, ALABAMA

January 1988

I am sure that by now you have all heard about Big George’s passing. His daughter, Alberta, who is now a chef in Birmingham, called us with the sad news. He will be missed. Nobody could barbecue like Big George. Alberta said he was still cooking right up to the end.

On a happier note, Wilbur and I spent our New Year’s Eve over at the Elks Club, and I won twenty-five dollars in the fill-your-card bingo game. That was a very nice way to start off the new year. I am also happy to report that Wilbur survived his second childhood moment. This is the story of why I have twenty more gray hairs today.

The kids that live next door to us got a huge trampoline for Christmas and have it sitting out in their yard. And lo and behold the next morning while I was washing my breakfast dishes, I happened to look out the window just in time to see my crazy husband bouncing up and down at least six feet in the air! I tell you, it liked to have scared me to death. Needless to say I dropped everything and ran out and made him come down off that thing. Men! No matter how old they are, they never grow up, do they? The old fool could have broken every bone in his body. He said he had a lot of fun bouncing on that thing, but it was no fun for me. I could have been a widow today if I hadn’t stopped him. Honestly, folks, I just never know what he will do next. Oh well, can’t live with him, can’t live without him. I guess I’ll just live with him and hope he doesn’t give me a heart attack next time. And so, until next time, don’t take any foolish chances, because life is too short as it is. Just remember, no matter what time it is, it’s always later than you think.

Your faithful scribe,

Dot

ON RUTHIE’S NEXT trip over to Birmingham, she and Evelyn went to the same restaurant where they had gone the first night they’d met, over a year before. After they ordered, Evelyn asked Ruthie how her dad was doing.

“Oh, the same, I guess. But he always asks about you. He’s so glad we are friends.”

“Me, too.” Suddenly Evelyn thought of something and called the waiter over. “Bring us a nice big bottle of champagne, will you?”

Ruthie said, “Champagne? Are we celebrating something?”

“You never know. We might be.”

When the waiter brought the champagne and began pouring it, Evelyn said, “Ruthie I have a proposal for you.”

“What?”

“You know that I was an only child.”

“You told me. So was I.”

“But for as long as I can remember, I always wished I had a sister.”

“So did I.”

“So…Ruthie Threadgoode, will you be my little sister? The one I never had?”

Tears suddenly welled up in Ruthie’s eyes.

“Yes, of course I will, and will you, Evelyn Couch, be my big sister?”

“I will.”

Evelyn picked up her glass and said, “Let’s make a toast. To my new little sister, Ruthie.”

Ruthie picked up hers and said, “To Evelyn, the best big sister I could ever have.”

The idea of getting a sister so late in life touched them so much they both starting crying. Then, embarrassed to be crying, they began laughing and crying at the same time.

Their waiter saw the tears and came over to the table, concerned that something was wrong, and said, “Pardon me, but are you ladies all right?”

Evelyn looked up and said, “Oh yes, we are just fine,” but as she was busy reassuring him nothing was wrong, she knocked over her glass and spilled what was left of her champagne in her lap. Then Evelyn and Ruthie both burst out laughing so loud that people all over the restaurant started staring at them.

Evelyn looked around and said, “Uh-oh. We’d better behave ourselves or they’re going to throw us out of here on our ear.”

Ruthie quickly put on a serious face and said, “Okay, Sis.” And then after a few seconds they both burst out laughing again.

The waiter, now back in the kitchen, looking out of the small round window into the dining room, said to the chef, “Oh, man, Mrs. Couch is sure tying one on tonight.”

The chef said, “Good. The drunker they are, the bigger the tip.”

The chef was right. That hundred-dollar bill Evelyn left was much appreciated.

WHISTLE STOP, ALABAMA

August 10, 1935

IT WAS THAT time of the year again when Reverend Scroggins would take all of his church workers over to Columbus, Georgia, to the big summer Baptist Bible camp for the entire weekend. Ruth had gone with the others to help serve food, and she’d taken Buddy with her. While they were away, Idgie decided to get Big George to bring the boat down to the river so they could go fishing for catfish. Ruth didn’t care much for catfish, but Idgie and Big George did.

Early the next morning, after they got the boat into the water, they headed out with their fishing tackle, a shotgun, and two bacon sandwiches apiece that Sipsey had made.

An hour later, Big George was slowly rowing the boat close to the bank of the river, hoping to catch another one of the big mud cats that liked to feed there. They already had six big ones in the bucket.

As they passed under the limb of a large tree, they suddenly heard a loud thump and felt a slight jolt. Something heavy had fallen off of the tree and into the boat. Idgie hadn’t seen what it was, but Big George had. In a very calm and low voice he said, “Miss Idgie, don’t move. Don’t you move a muscle,” as he slowly reached for the shotgun. Idgie looked down in time to see a huge water moccasin at her feet with its mouth wide open, getting ready to strike.