The Pecan Man(4)

Dovey didn't wait to be invited to sit down. She put the pie down on the table beside me and settled her big ol' square behind into one of my rockers.

"Beautiful day, ain't it, Miss Beckworth?"

"It started out that way." I could barely disguise my contempt. Dovey Kincaid hasn't visited me one time in her life to be social. I could tell right off she was on a mission.

"It sure did, Miss Beckworth. It really did." She sighed like she'd just had a bite of heaven and settled herself into the rocker.

"What brings you all the way across the street, Dovey?"

"Well, I was just bakin' a few pies for the Woman's Club bake sale and I looked out and saw you sittin' here and I thought to myself, 'Now, Dovey Kincaid! Here you are bakin' pies for charity, and there sits your very own neighbor over there all by herself!' So, I whipped off my apron, picked up a lemon chess pie and headed right on over." She smoothed her skirt with both hands, then clasped them together like she was saying a prayer and dropped them into her lap. Then, as if she had forgotten her manners, leaned forward, cocked her head to the side and aimed her best debutante smile right in my direction.

I grinned back, but not in the name of being mannerly.

"Is that so, Dovey?" I chuckled. "Well, that is just as charitable a thing as I can imagine. I'll make sure Blanche takes it home with her tonight."

I asked a mental prayer of forgiveness for insulting Blanche that way, but I just couldn't help myself.

"Oh! Well, of course, Miss Beckworth," she sputtered as tat collided solidly with tit (if you'll pardon the expression). "But, I do hope you'll try a little bite yourself before you do. I worked awful hard on that pie for you not to at least get a taste of it."

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm afraid it might be a little sour for me. Lemon gives me gas."

Judging by her expression of horror, she no doubt wanted me to think I had offended her gentility, but she forgets the fact that sound carries a long way when windows are open. She may not have lost her virginity on her wedding night, but Lord knows she lost any discretion she might have had.

"What do you really want, Dovey?" I asked as she composed herself.

"Well, I did want to ask you about that awful old man you've hired to mow your lawn. Now, I know it's none of my business, but do you think it's a good idea to have him in this neighborhood all the time? Honestly, Miss Beckworth, we don't know a thing about this man and you've got him over here plunderin' through everything."

"Plundering? He's weeding my garden! How do you get plundering out of a little yard work?"

"Well, you know what I mean. He's just getting mighty familiar with your property. It isn't right, Miss Beckworth! The other day, I saw him rummaging through your garage when your back was turned."

"I sent him to look for some slug pellets, Dovey. He's trying to get my flowerbeds back in order, for crying out loud."

"Well, still - I don't think it's good for him to be around all the time. It's bad enough that we're three blocks from the loony bin. Now folks ridin' through will be thinking the neighborhood's gone colored all the sudden. And besides, it just isn't safe."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! That man couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to. He's seventy years old if he's a day." (I was ten years off on that, but I didn’t know it at the time.)

"Maybe so, but he's got a dangerous look to him and I don't like it. And he's fit enough to haul that mower around everywhere he goes. That says to me that he's fit enough to do whatever harm he has a mind to."

"Well, it says to me he's hungry, and if you had a charitable bone in your body, you'd be baking a pie for him. Now, you can take that pie of yours and waddle your fat butt on home. No one here needs your kind of charity."

Don't you know, she scooped that pie up and was back inside her front door before the rocker she vacated came to a rest.





Three





Summer came and went without much excitement. Eldred Mims became a fixture in the neighborhood. Mothers stopped calling their children inside the moment they saw him and life returned to normal, as we knew it anyway.

Just about the time we finally smelled fall in the air the family grocery store downtown succumbed to the rise of the supermarket. Neither Blanche nor I were able to walk the mile or so it now took to get groceries, so I started taking a cab to the Winn Dixie store. The wide variety of choices was overwhelming at first and it often took over two hours to finish my marketing. Blanche pitched a fit the first time I did that.

"Law, Miss Ora, you 'bout scared me to death!"

Blanche could be dramatic when she had a mind to be.

"Quit fussing and help me unpack this stuff."

I was too tired to account for my whereabouts, dull as the story might be.

"You couldn'ta been at the Winn Dixie all this time! Why didn't you tell me you was go'n go somewheres else?"

"Well, I was and I didn't, Blanche. It took me all this long to get through that blasted store. I've never seen so much food in all my life. I don't know why Bobby Milstead had to go and close the Thriftway downtown."

"They like to blame it on those big ol' stores, Miss Ora, but I know for a fact it's 'cause Mr. Bobby's son wadn't no account. Mr. Bobby been wantin' to retire for ten years now and he was just waitin' for Bobby, Jr. to grow up and take an interest. My Marcus stocked shelves down there for three years. He wanted to buy that ol' store, but Mr. Bobby wouldn’t have none of that. He said he'd rather close it down than to have somebody else run it into the ground. That‘s why Marcus up and join‘t the Army."