Фэнни Флэгг - The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

“Mr. Carder, the current owner, Mr. James Threadgoode, Jr., happens to be my father, and he’s sitting across the table from me right now.”

—

LATER, JIM FAXED them a copy of the deed, and Bud looked at it and said, “That’s Aunt Idgie’s signature, all right.”

It had been witnessed, dated, and notarized, so it was legal. Of course, Bud had to produce Idgie’s will naming him as her sole heir, and Jim took that down to the Jefferson County Hall of Records. A few weeks later, an official transfer of the property named James Threadgoode, Jr., as the land’s owner, and it was he who now granted the necessary easements to Couch Properties, LLC. On that happy day, Bud handed the documents over to Ruthie and said, “Here you go, baby. Go and have yourself a ball.”

A week later, his friend Billy’s wife, Geena, the fire-person, had located his number and called to tell him that two of her co-workers had found his arm, along with a mason jar with a deed that had the name Threadgoode on it. She said, “I have your arm, but they sent the deed to the courthouse.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “They sent that over to me last week. But, Geena, what I want to know is, where did they find that mason jar?”

She told him they’d been digging around and it had been buried under the same tree where they’d found his arm.

Bud had no idea that land had belonged to Aunt Idgie, or even more mysterious, why in the world she had buried the deed in a mason jar. But she had. And just when Ruthie needed it the most, somebody had found it.

That night when he was in bed, Bud couldn’t help but wonder just what had guided him to that particular tree that day. There were hundreds of trees along the track—why that one? Had it been Idgie? If he hadn’t left his arm there, the chances of anybody ever finding that jar would have been one in a million. No, more like one in a billion. It couldn’t have been just a coincidence. After thinking more about it, Bud was convinced that it had to have been Aunt Idgie’s doing. Crazy things like that just didn’t happen in real life. Idgie had loved Ruthie and she obviously wanted Ruthie to have that cafe, and she had made damn sure that she got it.

After all these years, Aunt Idgie was still looking out for them. Bud decided he wouldn’t tell anybody about her guiding him to that particular tree. He’d keep it their little secret.

THE RIVER CLUB

August 11, 1935

IDGIE DIDN’T REMEMBER how she’d wound up in the back room of the River Club at two A.M. Eva Bates had tried to stop her from getting into a game with him, but the man had dared her. The two of them had somewhat of a history. And now, years later, he still had the little marks in his face as a reminder of when she’d shot him with a full load of buckshot that night he’d been trying to kill her cat. Arvel Ligget had waited a long time to catch Idgie Threadgoode outside of town.

Arvel was hard to look at, and even harder to like. The Depression had hit Alabama hard. People were so bad off, the saying went, that they got married just for the rice. And Arvel Ligget was good at taking advantage of people down on their luck. He ran a fly-by-night loan-shark outfit over in Pell City, and a lot of people were in debt to him. He was also good at cards. Most people around the area didn’t have cash money to bet, and Arvel had won houses, land, and entire farms off of desperate men who had thought they could beat him at the poker table; poor men, with families, that had nowhere to go. But he didn’t care. When they didn’t vacate, he’d have them thrown out by a few of his henchmen.

Arvel had been determined to get even with Idgie, so when he saw her, sitting at the bar down at the River Club, he knew this was his chance. He dared her to go into the back room for a game of cards. At first she told him she didn’t want to, but he’d goaded her. “I just dared you….Are you scared to play with a real man?” Idgie rarely turned down a dare when she was sober, much less drunk and mad. Before she knew it, she was in the back room.

And now, after an hour at the poker table with Arvel, Idgie was on the verge of losing everything she had. Her friend Eva Bates was worried to death, and looked over at her daddy for help. But there wasn’t a thing Big Jack Bates could do about it. He ran a clean game, and Ligget had just won the last hand, fair and square.

Idgie was suddenly in big trouble. She had just lost her car and her watch, and was now in to Arvel for five hundred dollars. Money that she and Ruth did not have.

Idgie wrote out her IOU for the five hundred, and said, “I’m done. You cleaned me out.”

Arvel was disappointed. “Aw, you can’t quit now. Let’s play just one more game.”

“You cleaned me out. I don’t have anything left to bet.” Idgie pushed back her chair and started to stand up.

Ligget said, “Now, wait. I hate to see you go home empty-handed. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a chance to win it all back, and I’ll even sweeten the pot. Everything you owe me, plus there’s twenty acres of land over in Whistle Stop I won awhile back. Come on. One game. Five card stud. Winner takes all.”

Idgie said, “I told you once, Arvel. I don’t have anything left to bet.”

Arvel smiled. “Yeah, you do.”

“What?”

“You’ve still got that cafe, don’t you?”

Idgie shook her head. “No. I can’t bet the cafe. My daddy gave me that.”

“Your daddy’s dead. And if I don’t get the five hundred you owe me within three days, I’m gonna get that cafe anyway, so you might as well take a chance. Or are you too chicken?”

He had a point. Idgie had no idea where she was going to get five hundred dollars.

Arvel sat across the table rolling poker chips around in his hand, grinning at her and quietly clucking like a chicken. “Just think, Miss Idgie. You might get lucky. And that’s a mighty fine piece of land.”

“But I can’t bet the cafe. Half of it belongs to Ruth. I can’t take a chance on losing it.”

“Why not? If you lose, that pretty little partner of yours can always pick up a little money on the side. I know a lot of men that would pay for a piece of that sweet-lookin’ pie.”

Idgie’s eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “You lousy son of a bitch. I wish I had killed you when I had the chance.”

He laughed. “But you didn’t. And when I do get that cafe, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna burn it down. You Threadgoodes think you’re so high-and-mighty.”

Idgie felt her entire face and ears burn red with rage. “Goddamn you, Arvel. Deal the goddamn cards!”

Eva Bates let out a wail from over in the corner. Then she looked at Arvel and pleaded, “You know she don’t mean it. She’s drunk on her ass. Let her get on home.”

Arvel said, “Too late. She said deal.”

Eva looked at her daddy, but again, there was nothing he could do to stop it. The game was on. Big Jack walked over and stood by the table, watching Arvel to make sure he didn’t try to pull something. Eva was wringing her hands and said, “Oh Lordy, I’m so nervous my ears is ringin’.”

After Idgie cut the deck, Arvel dealt her first card. She lifted up the corner and looked at it. Jack of clubs. A face card was a good start. Her next card was the eight of spades. Idgie was holding her breath and thinking, “Please let the next one be a jack.” No luck, it was a four of hearts. Then her fourth and next to last card shot across the table. Two of spades. No help at all.

Fear must have sobered Idgie up because she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her palms were sweating.

Arvel threw her last card across the table. Idgie took a deep breath and looked. Eight of diamonds. She had nothing but a pair of eights.