The children were stumbling in the darkness chasing lightning bugs when Uncle Floyd called, "Now come on in 'fore you step on a copperhead." Giggling and clutching baby jars of fireflies, Mary Elizabeth, Toby, and Sonny bounced up the steps to the planked porch. "You kids need to bed down before your momma and daddy get home." In unison the children shouted "no, no, no, tell us a story first ... please." Floyd replied, "OK, hush up and set them bugs free so they can get back to their home." He liked to tell the children stories and seemed at ease with his niece and nephews.
Floyd Culpepper wandered from West Virginia to Florida forty years earlier seeking a new life. He got a new way , but never a wife, any children or an automobile. But, he got around just fine on his green bicycle which was now more rust colored than green. He had a few friends, but was content to keep to himself. He did little jobs around the county to pay for his rent and food. Over the years, he had been a gardener's helper, busboy, orange picker, fisherman, and many other things. Now Floyd wasn't stupid or simple, he just preferred his life without complications. He always said that he liked being plain more than fancy. Sometimes he sincerely admitted that in eight years of schooling he had "learned all the letters and numbers" any man needed to know.
He left home at fourteen after his farming father died suddenly and his mother allowed a neighbor man to share her bed. He didn't like the man, and without telling anyone he left one frosty morning. He didn't take much and only had a few dollars when he left before the sun got above the nearby hills. He left three sisters, two brothers, his momma, and the new man he disliked. Later he learned that Bill Jenkins eventually married his mother and became a prosperous salesman. His family got a nicer house and a good running Ford station wagon. All his brothers and sisters got proper educations, and his baby sister Mandy Lee graduated from Virginia Tech. He sometimes regretted never saying a proper goodbye to his kin, and got a little bit of the "blues" missing his mommas final years.
Floyd hitch hiked and walked his way south. It took him several months on the road before he landed in a place where it was warm morning, noon, and night. He liked Florida. Sometimes he wondered about home and the family he had left so many years earlier. But, Floyd was usually too busy with odd jobs and watching television at night to worry much about the past. His favorite shows were the cartoons and sitcoms. Cartoons reminded him of being a child, and he liked the thirty minute stories with happy endings when everybody ended up friends.
The children quickly got dressed for bed. Floyd was gently squeaking in the porch rocker when they curled around his feet like kittens cuddling close to a mother cat. "Ready for a story", he asked, and they all shouted "yeah." Floyd was happy beyond belief that Mandy Lee and Tom had gotten teaching jobs and accidentally found him when they moved to Florida. In the few months since their arrival, he got caught up on all the news and gossip from back home. Floyd felt a bit reconnected to his younger days after conversations with Mandy Lee.
"Tonight I'm goin' to tell y'all about the pickle tree my granny had in her backyard". Mary Elizabeth chortled a long, "aw", while the boys groaned, "no way." Floyd continued, "now be quiet so I can tell this story best I can remember". The chatter became muffled as he began his bedtime tale.
"Not long ago, before modern times and pollution set in, there were many wondrous things that don't exist anymore. In the forests back home the old folks often talked about polka dotted bears, trees that talked as plain and proper as you and me, and white deer that could fly. I never saw any polka dot bears or flying deer, but I do remember being in the woods all alone one night and hearing the oaks whispering. Best I could gather they were talking about a coming storm. Also back then, Easter Bunnies laid chocolate, candied, and colored hard boiled eggs for Easter Sunday. They were jumbo sized hoppers with powder blue or pink fur and big cotton colored tails. These big fellas evidently didn't like their little cousins, and chased the smaller tan and gray rabbits whenever one came close. " The boys softly intoned "naw" but continued to listen.
"Well my favorite thing, I'll never forget, was my grandma's garden and orchard of beautiful trees. In the rocky soil on the hillside behind her cabin, she mixed in chicken and horse poop with the dirt, and grew very large vegetables and the most tasty things in her orchard." All the children snickered at the word "poop", but kept their eyes fixed on Floyd as he continued. " In the garden she had tomatoes as big as watermelons, and melons dern near the size of a burn barrel. In the orchard, there was a peanut tree with pods containing huge cashews and redskin peanuts. Another shrub grew little chocolate coated raisins, but my favorite tree was the one that grew pickles. It was very unusual. On the same great tree fat and juicy kosher pickles grew right beside little skinny gherkins. In the summer the pickles emerged after huge sweet smelling purple flowers blossomed. I loved those pickles the best, and no matter how many I picked there were always more the next day. Nothing better in the summer than a frosty Nehi orange or grape soda and a handful of them delicious pickles.
Granny could never explain why her garden things got so big or why different kinds of peanuts and pickles grew on the trees. Nobody had ever seen such things. The county agent and a school teacher just shook their heads when they saw what granny was growing. After friends and family got all they wanted, she sold jars and baskets full to folks passing along our road. Yeah, it was a wonderful time when I was a kid and had pickles ... "
Looking close, Floyd noticed the three babies were softly purring and asleep. Gently he toted each one inside, laid them to rest, and gave each a butterfly kiss.
Satisfied with his story telling Floyd lumbered back to the front porch. There he settled into the rocker and breathed in the sweet night air. For a few minutes he enjoyed the chorus of crickets, tree frogs, hoot owls, and other night creatures speaking to their own or their forest neighbors. Then, listening carefully to the tree branches and palm fronds rubbing and scraping in the wind he daydreamed. Guided by his best memories he relaxed as his eyes fluttered to the place of dreams.
When Mandy and Tom drove up they found Floyd snoring with an unusually wide smile stretched across his sun burnt and creased face.
Floyd Culpepper wandered from West Virginia to Florida forty years earlier seeking a new life. He got a new way , but never a wife, any children or an automobile. But, he got around just fine on his green bicycle which was now more rust colored than green. He had a few friends, but was content to keep to himself. He did little jobs around the county to pay for his rent and food. Over the years, he had been a gardener's helper, busboy, orange picker, fisherman, and many other things. Now Floyd wasn't stupid or simple, he just preferred his life without complications. He always said that he liked being plain more than fancy. Sometimes he sincerely admitted that in eight years of schooling he had "learned all the letters and numbers" any man needed to know.
He left home at fourteen after his farming father died suddenly and his mother allowed a neighbor man to share her bed. He didn't like the man, and without telling anyone he left one frosty morning. He didn't take much and only had a few dollars when he left before the sun got above the nearby hills. He left three sisters, two brothers, his momma, and the new man he disliked. Later he learned that Bill Jenkins eventually married his mother and became a prosperous salesman. His family got a nicer house and a good running Ford station wagon. All his brothers and sisters got proper educations, and his baby sister Mandy Lee graduated from Virginia Tech. He sometimes regretted never saying a proper goodbye to his kin, and got a little bit of the "blues" missing his mommas final years.
Floyd hitch hiked and walked his way south. It took him several months on the road before he landed in a place where it was warm morning, noon, and night. He liked Florida. Sometimes he wondered about home and the family he had left so many years earlier. But, Floyd was usually too busy with odd jobs and watching television at night to worry much about the past. His favorite shows were the cartoons and sitcoms. Cartoons reminded him of being a child, and he liked the thirty minute stories with happy endings when everybody ended up friends.
The children quickly got dressed for bed. Floyd was gently squeaking in the porch rocker when they curled around his feet like kittens cuddling close to a mother cat. "Ready for a story", he asked, and they all shouted "yeah." Floyd was happy beyond belief that Mandy Lee and Tom had gotten teaching jobs and accidentally found him when they moved to Florida. In the few months since their arrival, he got caught up on all the news and gossip from back home. Floyd felt a bit reconnected to his younger days after conversations with Mandy Lee.
"Tonight I'm goin' to tell y'all about the pickle tree my granny had in her backyard". Mary Elizabeth chortled a long, "aw", while the boys groaned, "no way." Floyd continued, "now be quiet so I can tell this story best I can remember". The chatter became muffled as he began his bedtime tale.
"Not long ago, before modern times and pollution set in, there were many wondrous things that don't exist anymore. In the forests back home the old folks often talked about polka dotted bears, trees that talked as plain and proper as you and me, and white deer that could fly. I never saw any polka dot bears or flying deer, but I do remember being in the woods all alone one night and hearing the oaks whispering. Best I could gather they were talking about a coming storm. Also back then, Easter Bunnies laid chocolate, candied, and colored hard boiled eggs for Easter Sunday. They were jumbo sized hoppers with powder blue or pink fur and big cotton colored tails. These big fellas evidently didn't like their little cousins, and chased the smaller tan and gray rabbits whenever one came close. " The boys softly intoned "naw" but continued to listen.
"Well my favorite thing, I'll never forget, was my grandma's garden and orchard of beautiful trees. In the rocky soil on the hillside behind her cabin, she mixed in chicken and horse poop with the dirt, and grew very large vegetables and the most tasty things in her orchard." All the children snickered at the word "poop", but kept their eyes fixed on Floyd as he continued. " In the garden she had tomatoes as big as watermelons, and melons dern near the size of a burn barrel. In the orchard, there was a peanut tree with pods containing huge cashews and redskin peanuts. Another shrub grew little chocolate coated raisins, but my favorite tree was the one that grew pickles. It was very unusual. On the same great tree fat and juicy kosher pickles grew right beside little skinny gherkins. In the summer the pickles emerged after huge sweet smelling purple flowers blossomed. I loved those pickles the best, and no matter how many I picked there were always more the next day. Nothing better in the summer than a frosty Nehi orange or grape soda and a handful of them delicious pickles.
Granny could never explain why her garden things got so big or why different kinds of peanuts and pickles grew on the trees. Nobody had ever seen such things. The county agent and a school teacher just shook their heads when they saw what granny was growing. After friends and family got all they wanted, she sold jars and baskets full to folks passing along our road. Yeah, it was a wonderful time when I was a kid and had pickles ... "
Looking close, Floyd noticed the three babies were softly purring and asleep. Gently he toted each one inside, laid them to rest, and gave each a butterfly kiss.
Satisfied with his story telling Floyd lumbered back to the front porch. There he settled into the rocker and breathed in the sweet night air. For a few minutes he enjoyed the chorus of crickets, tree frogs, hoot owls, and other night creatures speaking to their own or their forest neighbors. Then, listening carefully to the tree branches and palm fronds rubbing and scraping in the wind he daydreamed. Guided by his best memories he relaxed as his eyes fluttered to the place of dreams.
When Mandy and Tom drove up they found Floyd snoring with an unusually wide smile stretched across his sun burnt and creased face.
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