Showing posts with label Bailey's Bug. Coyotes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bailey's Bug. Coyotes. Show all posts

Monday, June 29, 2015

Oh no! Cabbage Season Again

June 29, 1966.

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Holly County, Kentucky. Oh no!! Look what I spotted in Miss Sally's garden. If she's got cabbage about to start making a head, then I'm pretty sure every other member of the Mount Pleasant Church does too. That's a BIG oh no. I hate cabbage! Who could want to eat that stuff. Have you ever smelled it while it's cooking?? Maybe not as bad as mustard greens, but still plenty yucky. So yucky it draws flies. 

The cabbage starts boiling, the flies line up on the screen door to find a way in to get to whatever is making that smell. You have to remember that flies like, actually like, dead things. So to them the smell is probably good. Great even. But not to me!! And then I have to eat it. At least, we do always have cornbread to go with the cooked cabbage. I do like cornbread. Pioneers lived on corn pone, didn't they? So I can make it on cornbread for a day or two. 

Sometimes Aunt Love boils a lot of cabbage because everybody at church wants to get rid of a few heads and passes them off to us. I have never understood why they never have an over abundance of strawberries or radishes or corn. Well, they do give us a lot of corn too. That's good. I like corn. 

Dad says I should be thankful for the Lord's provisions. I suppose he's right, but I just can't put cabbage on my thankful for list. It's right there on my not thankful for list right below turnips. So when we say grace on cabbage nights, I just think about how thankful I am for cornbread. 

What food do you have to eat that you don't like all that much?

Of course, Bailey and Lucinda would have been thankful for any kind of food on their journey. They say it's a good thing for grasshoppers and mice. Right now they're not thinking much about food. They're thinking about their friend, Skelley.

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
   (Continued from a couple of weeks ago. The whole story is under the title up at the top of this article.)

Chapter 17

   They kept vigil over Skelley's body all night long. They couldn't let the coyotes have him. So, at first light, Bailey dug a hole in the soft ground. Then with care he scooted Skelley into the hole. Lucinda helped him push the dirt in on top of the old dog. Then she found a yellow flower and laid it on top the dirt. Bailey found a stick to put there too. It wasn't Skelley's painted stick, but it was the best he could do.
   Then they sat there for a long moment before Lucinda said, "I'll miss the old dog. Skelley wasn't like most." 
   Bailey stared at the grave. He didn't feel like talking. He did feel like howling, but Skelley wouldn't want him to howl. So instead he thought about the first time he saw him half in and half out of that big trash thing. He remembered Skelley's circus stories and the way the old dog was always ready for whatever adventure came his way next.
   Was Bailey ready for whatever happened next? He looked over at Lucinda who had started washing her paws. But then she stopped and just sat there with her eyes shut. He tried to wait until she said something else, but he couldn't. He had to know. 
   "Do you think we can do it?" he asked.
   She opened her eyes and looked at him, but she didn't look mad. "We have to try. For Skelley."
   So they started off, leaving Skelley behind, but somehow taking him with them too. He seemed to be running along beside them with more energy than he'd ever had and whispering in Bailey's ear that he could do it. By the time they left the woods behind and began across the open fields toward the town, he was beginning to think maybe they could.
   When they were halfway across the first field, they stopped for a drink at a little creek. He stared at the water to see if he could see Skelley's reflection. 
   "Why are you staring at the water?" Lucinda asked.
   "I thought maybe I could see Skelley."
   "We buried him." 
   "I know, but it's like he's still with us."
   "Don't be silly," Lucinda said. 
   "You don't feel him with us?" Bailey raised his head and looked around.
   "Of course not." But Lucinda wouldn't meet his eyes and her tail gave an extra twitch. So he knew she did even if she wouldn't admit it. 
   It was almost suppertime when they got to the town. They stopped behind some bushes so that Lucinda could do a complete head to tail wash before they went on to Reid's house. Bailey rested his head on his paws and watched her. 
   When she had finished washing to the very tip of her tail, he asked, "What if doing the trick doesn't work?  What if Reid still doesn't know me?"
   "It will work," Lucinda said, but she still didn't look at him. "Come on."
   Bailey stood up. "Do you know how circus music sounds?" 
   "I think it has to be happy music."
   "Skelley did look really happy when he heard it." Bailey remembered how the dog said his master was calling him.
   "He did." Lucinda looked up at the sky a moment. "He would say it's music that makes a circus dog step high and do his best tricks."
   "I'll try to do my best," Bailey said.
   Lucinda looked over at him and sighed. "Well, just try not to trip over your own feet like you did the last time we tried this balancing act. That's all I ask."

(To be continued next week.)
   
  
    

Monday, January 5, 2015

Starting 1966 Off with a Whisper


January 5, 1966
Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. Can you believe it's 1966? Wow! In a few years we'll flip the decade and then it'll really be hard to write the right date for the year. I'm getting fairly good at changing a 5 into a 6 on my school papers. 

Yeah, it didn't snow, so we had to go back to school. Not very fun. Although I did like seeing my girlfriends again. They were all sporting new sweaters they got for Christmas. I was too. The one Leigh gave me. Leigh knows what's pretty and doesn't make the mistake of buying girlie looking things for me. I am not a ruffle type girl! 

What did you do to celebrate the New Year? Daddy let me sit up and watch the new year in on television. He says he can't see why anybody would want to watch a ball drop in Times Square, but if I wanted to waste my time watching that nonsense, he supposed one night a year it wouldn't hurt me to sit up till midnight. I took a picture of the television screen at midnight when 1966 showed up. 

I jumped up and down and shouted sort of under my breath because everybody else was already asleep. Even Tabitha. You'd think at her age she wouldn't be too old to want to see the old year out and the new year in. She said she would have if Robert was there. That's her fellow. But he wasn't and Stephen, at one year old, doesn't know anything about new years showing up. She said he'd be up and ready for his breakfast at seven sharp the same as any other morning. 

I guess she was right. For sure she was right about it being more fun to celebrate a new year showing up if other people were around. Too bad I couldn't have watched the old year out with Wes. He'd have had a dozen Jupiter New Year's stories to tell. I'll have to ask him to tell me one tomorrow when I go by the newspaper office after school. If he does, maybe I can share it with you next week.

Meanwhile, it's time to see what Bailey, Lucinda and Skelley are up to. We left them last week with an owl about to swoop down on Bailey and scare him silly. Lucinda would say he's silly already. But if a big old owl was diving at me, I'd be scared. Wouldn't you?

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
  (Continued from last week. Read it all at Bailey's Bug.

    Bailey cowered against the ground as the bird's talons skimmed his back. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, the owl flapped away to a quieter perch in another tree. 
    Barking, Bailey ran after the bird. That started the coyotes up again. Bailey jumped around in a circle trying to figure out which direction to chase after the noisy coyotes, but their barks and yips seemed to be coming from every direction.
   "For mercy's sake, Bailey," Lucinda hissed from the tree over his head. "It was only an owl, and I told you owls don't eat dogs. It was trying to scare you away."
   "And those coyotes?" Bailey stopped hopping in circles. 
   "They mostly don't bother dogs like you either. I told you nothing normal eats dogs." Lucinda emphasized the word normal. "Now go to sleep."
   "Miss Lucinda is right, Bailey me lad," Skelley said. "We need our sleep for the journey tomorrow." The old dog promptly curled up in the hole he'd dug out next to the tree trunk.
   Bailey stayed on his feet, studying the shifting shadows long after the coyotes fell silent once more. He had the feeling eyes were watching him even though he couldn't see anything. Great saucer eyes. If only he could climb up in the tree with Lucinda.
   He wanted to bark again. That was what he always did when he didn't know what else to do, but Lucinda would yowl at him if he woke her up. So instead of barking, he growled real low to let anything that might be out there in the dark know that he wasn't a dog to be messed with. Hadn't he stopped a monster bulldozer? Hadn't he crossed the river of car without getting mashed? He could fight off a few coyotes and an owl. He could.
   He kept his growl rumbling down in his chest for a long time until his feet began to hurt. At last, still watching on every side, he eased over to where Skelley, his nose on his baton, was sound asleep. 
   Bailey eased down close beside the bony dog, but he kept his eyes open until they burned. He spotted mice creeping from the cover of one leaf or bush to another. A gray ball of an animal with a skinny tail trundled by. Another creature who looked like it was wearing a mask and who had rings on its tail scurried past. All the woods creatures seemed too busy to give Bailey more than a passing glance. 
   After a long time, when the owl didn't come back and the coyotes stayed silent, Bailey closed his eyes. He shut out the night noises around him and concentrated on the hum inside him until he could almost feel Reid hugging him.
   If he had to, he would walk through a million trees with eyes everywhere to find Reid. If he had to.

(To be continued.)