My Beloved Granny

15. The following comes from ALL ROADS LEAD SOMEWHERE BY Jewellee Cardwell, available from Amazon in e-book.  It is a fictionalized account of the Grandmother I loved.

                                          GRANDMAS

It was fine day.  Opal, just turned six years old, was in her playhouse in the edge of the woods less than a hundred yards from the house but wonderfully isolated by the thick blackberry bushes. "Op--all," her mother's voice called. Opal ignored it. She did not want to leave her playhouse. She was happy here in her refuge, away from the chores, away from the demands of her mother and father.  It had taken her many hours to get her playhouse just right. She had carefully marked off three rooms, a kitchen, living room and bedroom, with rocks. A broken bedspring, dragged with great effort from the dumping heap behind the barn and covered with dry leaves, made a wonderful bed. An old crate covered with a burlap bag made a fine sofa for the living room. In her kitchen two broken cups sat on the plank that served as a table. A hole in the stump of a tree with its standing rank water made a quite satisfactory cistern.

Opal sat very still. "Opp--all." She lay back on her bed and looked at the lacy patches of sky through the tree tops. "Opp--all, where are you? You wanna' go to the store?"

Quietly she crept out of her house, circled around the back toward the barn and ran anew into the woods. "Op--all." Then from a place safely away from her hidden sanctuary she answered, "I'm comin'." She ran breathlessly to her mother. "I ran as fast as I could when I heard you call the first time. What are we goin' to the store for?  Can I get some candy?"

"I'm aimin' to let you go by yourself. You reckon you git there and back without takin' all day?"

"All by myself! I'll run all the way."

"Ain't no need to run, just walk. And don't you go stoppin' along the way to play. Especially with them Davenport youngens. Now get some of that grime washed off. I declare I don't know what you do to get so dirty."

Opal filled the agate wash pan with water dipped from the water bucket and swished her hands through the water. The dirt line above her right wrist would never pass her mother's inspection. She spit on and rubbed it against the back of her dress. 

With the paper sack her mother gave her clutched tightly in her fist she listened impatiently to her instructions. "Now you be careful with them eggs, and don't go runnin'. You might trip and fall down. Tell Fred I need a spool of thread. And, Opal, don't go dawdlin' along the way. I need that thread to patch Daddy's overalls."

She hurried down the hill, past Aunt Rachel's house to the edge of the Snyder farm where she cut through the woods on the "Snyder Pass". Nobody walked past the Snyder house alone. In groups with other children to and from school she and Kaye passed the house. But only after approaching it with extreme caution and then running as fast as they could until well past it. None of them ever really saw Mr. Snyder or his boy B.D. Sometimes the drawn green shade on the front door moved, sending the imaginative children scurrying.

Every child who had passed this way had his own gruesome description of the face peering out from that window. Opal, herself, had never seen it, but even if she had she was not confident enough to trust her own eyes over those of so many who seemed sure of what they saw. Her mother said it not likely that anyone was at the door because Mr. Snyder was bedfast with some bad sickness and BD was too busy taking care of him to take notice. Besides BD was too bashful to be peeking out of windows, especially at a bunch of nosy youngens.  Aunt Rachel, on the other hand, ventured that it was BD at the window. She further warned that he might be dangerous, and  the youngens had better give the house wide berth.

When she came to the stream runni/ng through "Snyder Pass" she stopped to dangle her feet in the cool water. It felt good on her sore toe, the one she stubbed the day before yesterday on the root of a tree in the woods. Daddy said the toe nail would likely fall off; her mother said it would get festered if she did not keep it clean. A crawdad crawled lazily backward toward her dangling feet. She jerked her feet from the water and sat for a while watching. When the crawdad disappeared under the edge of tall overhanging grass she decided she had dawdled long enough. If she took too long her mother would never let her go again.

With her sack of eggs clutched to her side she went on. A squirrel scurrying up a tree caught her attention, and gawking at it she stubbed her already sore toe.  Her sack of eggs fell to the ground. She did not have to open the bag to know they were broken.

Tears welled up immediately and rolled down her cheeks. Tears for her newly hurt and bleeding toe. Tears for her smashed eggs. Tears for what her mother would say. Tears for having lost the chance to ever again go the store alone

Ignoring her re-injured toe she ran as fast as she could through the woods, onto the road to her grandmother's house. When she arrived Grandma was sitting in her usual position, in her rocking chair on the front porch. With sobs worthy of her audience Opal fell against her grandmother's arms.

"Why child, whatever is the matter?"

"I broke the eggs, and now I can't get the thread, and I hurt my toe.  Mommie's  goin' to skin me alive and my toe hurts so bad."

"Now slow down a might. Let me see if I got this. Marthie sent you all by yourself to Fred's  for some thread?"

"And give me three eggs to trade for it, but I stubbed my sore toe-- see how bad it's bleeding." She held up her toe for Grandma's inspection.

Grandma looked briefly at the toe, and assessing the real problem she put her shaky arm around Opal. "And you broke your eggs."

"My toe hurts so bad. And Mommie's  goin' to skin me, and she won't never let me go the store by myself agin."

Grandma got up slowly and leaning on her cane she hobbled across the porch and down the steps. "I reckon it ain't all that bad. I figure maybe we can make it right."

"But my toe hurts real bad."

Grandma leaned down and gently touched the toe which had stopped bleeding. "It ain't too bad. All you done was knock off a scab. I don't see as how the toe is your biggest problem right now. Do you?  It seems to me the biggest problem is your eggs. Now you come with me." Together they went to the henhouse where Grandma gathered four eggs. "Here," she said. "Them first three is for the thread and this one's for candy. Now don't you go stopping at the Davenports. You know what Cordell's like. I swear I don't rightly know what's goin' to become of that youngen." Grandma tousled Opals hair. "Law child, you got more rats in your hair. You comb it out when you get home, and I reckon we won't have to tell Marthie about these eggs."               

Fred's store was a long skinny building, dark from no windows along the shelved sides.  On the back wall next to a small dirty window was the thread and next to it the yard goods. The red checkered bolt Opal wanted for a dress was still there, but she was not at all sure she would ever get it. Her mother said as long as they had enough matching feed sacks there was no need to go spending good money for material. Besides her cousin was always handing down her leftovers, and how many dresses did one girl need?"

A big black stove stood in the middle of the store. Around it, even in the summer, was a ring of cane bottomed chairs and a green spotted tub filled with sand. Cigarette stubs stuck out of the sand and it was all brown and foul smelling from the tobacco juice. But this day the store was empty.

Fred came from a back room. In one hand he carried a knife; in the other and apple with a coiled peel hanging all the way to the floor. "Howdy Opal." Looking around he added, "You here all by yourself?"

"Yeah, Mommie  sent me."

"Your Ma ailin'?"

"No she's workin'." Opal gingerly handed her eggs to Fred. She sighed heavily secure in the knowledge that if the eggs were dropped now it would not be her fault. "Mommie said send her some thread to patch Daddy's overalls."

Fred not too gingerly opened the bag, or so it seemed to Opal. "And the other egg is for candy, I reckon. What kind you want?"

The jars of candy rowed up on the counter posed an enormous problem.  Finally she decided on licorice sticks, three for an egg. For a long time she held them in her hand. Then one she gobbled down, and held the other two as the priceless possession they were.

On the way home she walked confidently past the Davenports. Cordell, two years older than she and big for his age, was playing at the edge of the road. When he approached her she quickly tucked her two extra licorice sticks in the sack with the thread.

Cordell gave her a searching look, the kind he gave the little kids at school when he was bullying them. "What's in the sack, Opal?"

"Thread," she said and tried to pass him only to have him step directly in front of her.

"I just bet!  Lemma see. I bet you got candy in there."  He grabbed at the sack.

"It's just thread for patchin' Daddy's overalls. If you don't stop it, I'm goin' to call you Ma." He snatched at the sack again. Opal screamed, "Bertie-- Bertie, make Cordell leave me alone."

Cordell ran off calling over his shoulder, "Opal's a chicken, and a ugly scaredy cat to boot."

Past Grandma's house, up the road toward the Atkins place she ran.  Jeannette and Janann were playing jump rope in the Harrison yard. Jeannette called to her. "Hey Opal, where're you goin'? Can you play?"

"I gotta hurry home. Mommie let me go to the store by myself to git thread for patchin' Daddy's overalls."

"Did you get any candy? What's in the sack?" Jeannette, with Janann behind her, ran into the road.

"Just thread. I done told you Mommie's gonna patch Daddy's overalls."

"Jump with us just once. It won't take but a minute," Janann pleaded.

"Just once." Opal said as she clutched her paper sack to her side.

"The ABC game. Okay? Apples, peaches, peanut butter, tell us the 'nitials of your lover," the girls chanted as they threw the rope for Opal.  She jumped well and got through the whole alphabet.  But on the second go she missed on C.

"Cordell," Jeannette squealed. "Opal loves Cordell. The rope don't lie.   Opal loves Cordell."

Opal stuck out her tongue. "I hate Cordell. He's mean and dumb and a bully. And besides that he's ugly." 

"Come on Opal, let us see what you have in the sack." Janann said.  "I bet you got some candy in there."

"No I ain't. I told you it was thread, and if I get it all dirty Mommie's going to skin me alive. I gotta go."

Chewing on her second licorice as she went down the road, through the woods on the "Snyder Pass",  past the broken eggs which were being attacked by ants, over the stream,  past Aunt Rachel's,  to the foot of the hill up to her house.  She stopped once to remove the remaining licorice stick from the sack and drop it her dress pocket. It would not do if Kaye knew she had candy. Not only would Kaye want some of the candy but she would run right to Mama and tell her. Opal secure in the feeling that she had hidden her candy and her mishap with the eggs walked slowly up the hill.

Her mother was sitting stringing beans under the big maple tree in the front yard looking out over the forested hills in the distance. "I got it Mommie. I got it."  She handed the well crumpled sack to her mother.

"That's just fine, Opal." her mother said on inspecting the thread. "You done real good. You didn't have no trouble gettin' past the Snyder's or Cordell, did you?"

"No, I didn't have no trouble at all.  Fred asked after you.  He thought you might be ailin', but I told him you was just workin.'"

"I'm mighty proud of you, Opal. You're a big help to me. Next time I need you to git me something from the store you can take an extra egg for candy."

Opal ran off to her playhouse.  Exhausted she dropped onto her bedspring and leaf bed and began to eat her last licorice. It was indeed a fine day.