Фэнни Флэгг - The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

Bud was clearly stunned. “I see it, but I can’t believe it. I thought it was all gone! They told me there was nothing left out here but a pile of junk.”

Evelyn said, “There wasn’t, but Ruthie and I had it all cleaned up, and we are going to rebuild the entire town from the ground up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, Daddy, a lot of it is still here. It just needs to be rebuilt.”

“You have got to be kidding. Is this the project you gals have been working on?”

“Yes, Evelyn bought the entire town. And we are going to reopen the old cafe, and hopefully bring in more businesses. What do you think?”

“I can’t think. I’m still in a state of shock.” He looked at Evelyn. “You bought the whole town?”

“Well, Bud, I figured that the way Birmingham is spreading out so fast, as soon as we get our roads built and have access to the interstate, it’s going to change everything. I believe we can get people to start moving out here again.”

“You do?”

“Sure. We’ll start with a few little housing developments, and with the right kind of advertising, I don’t think we can miss.”

When they went inside the old cafe building, Bud stood there for a moment and looked around. “My God, I haven’t been in this room for over sixty-something years. I can’t believe we’re both still standing.”

Ruthie said, “I was looking for something to do, so after it’s all been redone, I’m going to move into the back room, and manage it.”

Ruthie then told him how she planned to re-create the exterior and interior of the cafe, just as it had been in the 1930s. “People love that sort of old-time campy look.”

Bud said, “I can help you there, Ruthie. I can remember exactly where everything was. The old piano was right over in the corner. And a deer head was right up there.”

Evelyn laughed. “Well Ruthie, it looks like you have your creative assistant.”

Before they left the cafe, they showed Bud all the old photos they had found. He looked at them one by one and said, “Oh my God, there’s little Chester, I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“What we want to know is, who was little Chester?”

Bud laughed. “Just a friend of mine. We used to be pen pals.”

Ruthie shook her head. “Only you, Daddy, would have a dummy for a pen pal.”

They made a stop at the cemetery to visit Idgie’s, Ruth’s, and Ninny’s graves. Then later they walked him around the area, and showed him all the different houses they were planning to restore. The last house they showed him was in pretty bad disrepair and all the paint was gone, but when Bud saw it he said, “Oh my gosh. This is Aunt Ninny and Uncle Cleo’s old house. Oh my gosh. I spent many an hour over here. Aunt Ninny used to read the funny papers to us kids, right up there on the porch.”

They headed up the steps to the front door, and Ruthie said, “Daddy, wait. Before we go inside, I have something I want you to have.” She handed him the key to the front door and said, “Happy Birthday, Daddy, from both of us.”

Bud stared at the key and then looked back at Ruthie. “I don’t understand.”

“The house is yours. It’s your birthday present.”

“You don’t mean it.” He looked at Evelyn.

Evelyn said, “Yes, she does. And we are going to fix it up just for you…and Virgil, of course.”

Bud was astounded. “You mean, I don’t have to stay at Briarwood anymore?”

“No, Daddy. This is your home, if you want it. What do you say?”

“Well, I just don’t know what to say. You gals are about to give me a heart attack.”

Evelyn said, “You’d better say yes. Will you come?”

“Will I? When can I move in?”

“Just as soon as we can get it finished,” said Evelyn.

“I still can’t believe it. Ruthie, when can I tell Merris I’m leaving?”

“We don’t have a firm date yet, but we’ll have them work as fast as they can.”

“Oh my, I never thought I’d see Whistle Stop again. And now I’m gonna be living here.”

His eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Ruthie, Evelyn, I guess this is about the best present I ever got.”

—

RUTHIE KNEW IT was going to be a lot of hard work getting everything done, but seeing her father’s face light up as it had when he saw Whistle Stop again would make it all worth it. Although Bud never said so, she realized from his reaction today just how unhappy he had been living at Briarwood. She hadn’t seen him so excited about something in a long time. Thank heavens she was going to be able to get him out and bring him back home where he belonged. She wanted his last years to be happy ones.

Over the next few weeks Evelyn and Ruthie were having a lot of fun with the plans to redo Ninny’s old house for Bud. It was going to be the same as it had been, except now it would have a brand-new walk-in tub and shower, and be wheelchair accessible, just in case he needed it at some time in the future. The architect also drew up plans for a small apartment in the back for a caregiver, in case the time came when he might need one. Bud was calling almost every day from Atlanta, wanting to know how everything was coming along. Ruthie was excited and champing at the bit to start, and get him moved into his new house. But then something unexpected happened.

Bud might not be moving home after all.

WHISTLE STOP, ALABAMA

2017

IT HAD TAKEN a while, but by now almost all of the building permits had been pulled and the project was finally getting ready to move ahead full steam. Today, they were preparing to start the restoration of the cafe. The crew was up in the attic, checking for any structural damage they might need to shore up before they began, busy examining all the wooden rafters with flashlights, when the contractor in charge walked in and called them down. “Pack up your tools, boys, and go on home. You’re done for the day.”

—

JIM CARDER, THE owner of the road construction company Evelyn and Ruthie had hired, was still waiting for his permits to start work. He’d finally gone over to the Jefferson County Courthouse to see if he could find out what the big holdup was. When he got there, the man in charge of all sewer and roadway easements sat him down in his office with a map and told him the bad news.

“Jim, these roads and sewer lines you are proposing run directly through private property. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you your permit to build.”

“What? Doesn’t Mrs. Couch own that land?”

“Most of it, yes. But right here,” he pointed to a section on the map between Evelyn’s property and the interstate, “there’s this twenty-acre parcel that belongs to another party, and it’s through here that your utilities need to be accessed.”

“Well, not only that,” said Jim, “the whole project depends on us getting access to the interstate off-ramp. She’s planning to put a whole new development and businesses out there. Without that access, we are landlocked. We have to get a right-of-way.”

“I understand that, Jim, so all I can do is give you a copy of the deed, and maybe you can work something out with the owner. Maybe they’ll sell it, or grant you an easement. But until then, my hands are tied. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, man. Evelyn’s already spent a fortune cleaning up the place, drawing up plans. Why in the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“We didn’t know it ourselves until just a few days ago. My assistant pulled out an old map, looking for the location of the original sewer lines, and saw a different name on the parcel. I sent him up to the hall of records to have them check and see if it was some kind of mistake. It took a while for them to get back to us, but it wasn’t a mistake. They have it on file that that particular parcel had been transferred out of the Johnson family land, on November 3, 1932, and signed over to a Mr. Arvel Ligget of Pell City, Alabama. Here’s a copy of the deed transfer.”