A Lesson in Pride

The people in the old house next door had a son and daughter just about my age. I was staying with my grandparents in the country and playmates were hard to find, but we were quick to overcome our shyness and became best friends for the summer.

I was initiated into the Blakes' world of haylofts, outhouses, screened back porches and cool buckets of water pulled from the well. As I waited in the back yard for them each morning, their peels of laughter and sounds of good-natured bickering would reach me long before I could see them cutting through the hedgerow of the lower pasture. Within a few days I too abandoned my shoes and was becoming as berry brown and tow-headed as either of them. We whiled away the hot and humid Alabama summer days doing what kids in the country do...picking blackberries, climbing the apple trees with a salt shaker in our back pocket, chasing and catching June bugs or exploring dark corners of the old barn and corn crib. We had no toys - we didn't need them.

I can only recall being at their house twice. The first time, we were outside playing and got hungry for a snack. When we went through the old screen door, it seemed to me there was a child peeping out from behind every chair and doorway. I saw a baby lying in a bassinet and as I leaned to look inside, I saw flies on its face. A thought of Mama Owens and her ever-present fly swatter came to my mind. Lord help the creature that made it beyond her back door. Mrs. Blake looked tired and thin, almost frail, with her hair pulled back tightly and rolled into a bun. She was very quiet but seemed nice as she handed me a large homemade dill pickle and some soda crackers. She looked almost pretty as she smiled down at me. We ate our snack on the back steps, swatting flies as we ate.

The other time I was there was on a hot and humid summer afternoon when we stopped by on our way to the swimming hole.

My aunt and uncle had dropped my cousin Jimmy off to spend a few days with me on the farm. The times I got to spend with Jimmy were special beyond words. We were the same age and I loved it when we got to be together because he was a farm boy and knew everything about tractors, barns, animals and all the things I thought were so neat about country life.

Jimmy and I were used to the hot Alabama summers, but this particular day the heat and humidity combined with no hint of a breeze had rendered us both immobile. We were slouched together in the old swing under the apple tree in the back yard when Daddy Owens came in early from the field. He drew a bucket of water and filled the dipper, drank some and poured the rest over his handkerchief, drawing it across his face as he grinned at us and said "My old truck sure needs a clean'in. It's caked with red clay and we need to go into town for feed tomorrow. Reckon you two could help me out?" Jimmy and I didn't bother to answer as we jumped out of the swing and ran toward the house to change into our bathing suits. We were going swimming!

There was a big creek near the farm and at one place it crossed the road by way of a shallow ditch. Daddy Owens would drive down into the ditch and park the truck, grab some rags and set to work. Our reward for helping was always the same. He'd drive the newly washed truck on through the ditch, take a sharp right turn, drive about fifty yards or so and there was the swimming hole, complete with rope swing and diving rock.

Jimmy and I ran back out of the house in record time and jumped into the back of the truck as Daddy Owens swung himself in behind the wheel. I leaned over the edge of the truck bed and called to my grandfather over the roar of the engine: "Let's stop down at the Blakes and see if they can go swimming with us". Moments later, Daddy Owens turned down their drive and a big cloud of red dust followed us as we drove up to the house. The Blake kids ran up to the truck as we pulled to a stop. "Come on - hurry up and get on your bathing suits! Daddy Owens is taking us swimming!"

They were disappearing through the back door before the words were out of my mouth. It wasn't long before they reappeared saying they couldn't go because their mother couldn't find their bathing suits. "Well, go help her look - we'll wait out here for you...and hurry!" The second time they returned to say their mother said maybe they could go some other time. As Daddy Owens silently turned the truck around and headed back to the road, we saw the Blake kids looking after us as they grew smaller through the cloud of red dust.

Later in the afternoon stretched out on the diving rock while Jimmy took his turn swinging off the rope, I told Daddy Owens I sure wished the Blake kids could have found their swim suits so they could have come with us. "Let's come back tomorrow Daddy Owens - they'll have found them by then. Daddy Owens reached over and squeezed my shoulder. "Hon, those kids don't have no swim suits."