Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe (16 page)

“That what?”

Mrs. Threadgoode laughed. “The Dill Pickle Club, this crazy club Idgie and Grady and Jack Butts started.”

“What kind of a club was it?”

“Well, they claimed it was a breakfast and social club, but it was really just a bunch of Idgie’s ragtag friends that would all get together, she and some of the railroad men and Eva Bates and Smokey Lonesome. About all they did was drink whiskey and make up lies. They’d look you right in the eye and tell you a lie when the truth would have served them better.

“That was their fun, making up tales. Crazy tales. One time, Ruth had just come in from church and Idgie was sitting around with them and she said, ‘Ruth, I’m sorry to have to tell this, but while you were gone, Stump swallowed a 22-caliber bullet.’

“When Ruth got all excited, Idgie said, ‘Don’t worry, he’s just fine. I just took him over to Doc Hadley’s and he gave him a half a bottle of castor oil, and said it was all right to bring him home but just be careful not to point him at anyone.’ ”

Evelyn laughed. Mrs. Threadgoode said, “Well, you can imagine that Ruth didn’t care much for the idea of that club. Idgie was the president and she was always calling secret meetings. Cleo said those secret meetings were nothing more than hot polker games. But he said the club did some good things, but they would never tell you about it if they did, they’d deny it every time.

“They didn’t care anything about the Baptist preacher, Reverend Scroggins, ’cause he was a teetotaler, and every time some poor fool would ask where he could buy whiskey or live
bait, they’d sent him over to the preacher’s house. Like to have driven him crazy.

“Sipsey was the only colored member, because she could tell lies right along with the rest of them. She told them about this woman she was helping who has having trouble giving birth, and how she gave her a tablespoon of snuff and she said that woman sneezed so hard that she shot that baby clear across the end of the bed and into the other room …”

Evelyn said, “Oh no!”

“Oh yes! Then she told them this tale about her friend Lizzy, over in Troutville, that was expecting a baby and started craving starch. Said that Lizzy took to eating it right out of the box by the handfuls, and sure enough, when that baby came, it was white as snow and stiff as a board …”

“Oh for heaven’s sake.”

“But you know, Evelyn, that could have been true. I know for a fact some of those colored women ate clay right out of the ground.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Well, honey, that’s what I heard. Or maybe it was sticks of chalk. I forget which one. But it was either clay or chalk.”

Evelyn shook her head, smiling at her friend. “Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, you are funny.”

Mrs. Threadgoode thought about it and was pleased with herself and said, “Well, yes. I guess I am at that.”

What a treat for us, real snow. Whistle Stop could have passed for the North Pole last week. Is there anything prettier than seeing the red holly bushes covered with snow? I think not, but thank heavens it only snows once every ten years. My other half, who thinks he can drive in any sort of weather, was determined to take his old hunting dogs for a ride and skidded into a ditch on 1st Street. So the little lady you see bumming a ride for the next month, until we can get the car fixed, will be me.

Yes, my other half is the same one who went for a ride when we had that hailstorm with hail as big as baseballs and it took us three weeks to get the windshield replaced. He’s the same one that got struck by lightning, fishing down on the river in a rowboat. So the next time you see bad weather coming and you see Wilbur, send him home and I’m gonna put him
in the closet and lock him up. I’m afraid a tornado is liable to pick him up and take him on off somewhere … then who would I have to fight with?

I hear through the grapevine that Railroad Bill has hit five trains in one week. I ran into Gladys Kilgore over at the beauty shop, and she says that her husband, Grady, who works for the railroad, is hopping mad.

By the way, if Railroad Bill reads this, how about throwing a brand-new car off one of those trains before Grady catches you … I need one!

 … Dot Weems …

The sun had just come up behind the cafe, and Idgie shook him awake, shouting, “Get up, Stump! Get up! Look!” She pulled him to the window to look out.

The entire field was covered with white.

His mouth flew open. “What is it?”

Idgie laughed. “It’s snow.”

“It is?”

“Yes.”

He was in the third grade and this was the first time in his life he had ever seen real snow.

Ruth came up behind them in her nightgown and looked out, just as surprised.

All three of them got dressed as fast as they could and were out in the yard five minutes later. It was only two inches deep, but they rolled in it and made snowballs. You could hear the doors opening all over town and children shouting with excitement. By seven o’clock that morning, Stump and Idgie had already built a short, fat snowman and Ruth made them snow ice cream with milk and sugar.

Idgie decided to walk Stump to school, and as they looked
up the railroad tracks, there was nothing but white for as far as they could see. Stump was still so excited, he was jumping around and fell twice. Idgie decided to tell him a story to calm him down.

“Did I ever tell you the time me and Smokey played polker with Pig Iron Sam?”

“No. Who’s Pig Iron Sam?”

“You mean to tell me you never heard of Pig Iron, the meanest polker player in Alabama?”

“No ma’am.”

“Well, me and Smokey was sitting in this all-night polker game over in Gate City, and I started winning. I guess I won every pot for an hour or so, and Pig Iron was getting madder and madder, but what could I do? I couldn’t quit, not while I was winning like that … that’s not etiquette. And the more I won, the madder he got, and pretty soon he was in a rage and pulled this gun out and put it on the table and said that he was going to kill the next man that dealt him a bad hand.”

Stump was totally engrossed by this time. “Whose turn was it to deal?”

“Well, that’s the irony of it. He forgot it was his turn, and lo and behold, he dealt his own self a pair of two’s. So he just picked up the gun and shot himself to death, right there at the table … a man of his word to the end.”

“Wow. Did you see it?”

“Sure I did. It was a pair of two’s, big as life.”

Stump was thinking it over when he spied something sticking out of the snow beside the track. He ran over and picked it up. “Look, Aunt Idgie, it’s a can of Deer Brand sauerkraut, and it hasn’t even been opened!”

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He held the can up with awe and whispered, “Aunt Idgie, I’ll bet this is one of the cans that Railroad Bill threw off the train. Do you think it is?”

Idgie examined the can. “It could be, son, it very well could be. Put it back where you found it, so the folks that are supposed to find it will.”

Stump placed the can back down on the exact place he’d found it, like it was a sacred thing.

“Wow.”

His first snow and now a tin can that could have been from Railroad Bill. It was all too much.

They continued walking, and after a few minutes Stump said, “I guess that Railroad Bill is about the bravest man that ever lived, huh, Aunt Idgie?”

“He’s brave all right.”

“Don’t you think he’s the bravest man we know of in our whole lives?”

Idgie thought. “Well now, I wouldn’t say the bravest person I know. I don’t think I’d say that. One of the bravest, but not the bravest.”

Stump was taken aback. “Who could be braver than Railroad Bill?”

“Big George.”

“Our Big George?”

“Yeah.”

“What he ever do?”

“Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for him.”

“You mean, here today?”

“No, I mean here at all. I would have been eaten up by hogs.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes sir. When I was about two or three, I guess, me and Buddy and Julian were all hanging around the hog pens, and I climbed up on the fence and fell head first right into the hog trough.”

“You did?”

“I did. Well, those hogs all started running over towards me—you know a hog will eat anything … they’ve been known to eat lots of babies.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Anyhow, I jumped out of the trough and started running, but I fell down, and they almost had me before I could get out, when Big George saw me and jumped in that pen, right in the middle of those hogs, and started knocking them out of the way. Now, I’m talking about three-hundred-pound
hogs. He would grab ’em and sling ’em across the pen, one by one, like they were sacks of potatoes. He was able to keep them off me long enough for Buddy to crawl under the fence and pull me out.”

“Really!”

“Really. Did you ever notice those scars on Big George’s arms?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s where those hogs bit him. But Big George never said a word to Poppa, because he knew Poppa would kill Buddy for bringing me down there.”

“I never knew that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Wow.… Do you know any other brave people? What about Uncle Julian shooting that twelve-point deer last week? That took a lot of courage.”

“Well now, there’s courage and then there’s courage,” Idgie said. “You don’t have to be too brave to shoot some poor dumb animal with a twenty-gauge shotgun.”

“Who else do you know that’s brave besides Big George?”

“Well, let’s see,” she said, musing. “Besides Big George, I’d have to say that your mother was one of the bravest people I know.”

“Momma?”

“Yes. Your momma.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. Why, she’s scared of everything, even a little bug. What’d she ever do?”

“Something. She did something once.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter what. You asked me and I told you. Your mother and Big George are the two bravest people I know.”

“Really?
”

“I promise you so.”

Stump was amazed. “Well, I’ll be …”

“That’s right. And there’s something else I want you always to remember. There are magnificent beings on this earth, son, that are walking around posing as humans. And I don’t ever want you to forget that. You hear me?”

Stump looked at her sincerely and said, “No ma’am, I won’t.

As they continued on down the tracks, a bright red cardinal swooped out of a snow-covered tree and made a Christmas flight across the white horizon.

Before, during those long endless black nights when Evelyn had been awake sweating with fear and fighting visions of death and tubes and tumors growing, she had wanted to scream out for help while Ed slept beside her. But she had just lain there in that dark pit of her own personal hell until morning.

Lately, to get her mind off that cold gun and pulling the trigger, she would close her eyes and force herself to hear Mrs. Threadgoode’s voice and if she breathed deep and concentrated she would soon see herself in Whistle Stop. She would walk down the street and go in Opal’s beauty shop and could actually feel her hair being washed with warm water, then cool, then cooler. After a comb-out she would stop by to visit with Dot Weems at the post office and then on to the cafe where she could see everyone so clearly, Stump and Ruth and Idgie. She would order lunch and Wilbur Weems and Grady Kilgore would wave to her. Sipsey and Onzell would smile at her and she could hear the radio from the kitchen. Everyone would ask her how she was and the sun was always shining and
there would always be a tomorrow … Lately she slept more and more and thought of the gun less and less …