It was
always the strangest of little towns, neither being a 100 miles from somewhere
or a 100 from anywhere else. Folks mostly found it by accident is what I’m
saying, no one ever really went looking for it. It was like a large hole in a
road on a dark night – you just kind of just fell into it.
That’s not
to say that once you got there you were disappointed or anything - it was just
that Little River was the last town you visited before falling off the end of
the world.
The war of the
north against the south had taken place a little ways down the road – neither
the soldiers nor the shelling had ever really troubled the little town. In case
you folks ain’t too sure where that little town resides - well it’s in South
Carolina – just over the border from its northerly sister. Folks would pass it
on the way to Charleston or up to Raleigh and never know, nor care, that the
place existed.
It would
have probably stayed that way had it not been for a family from New York state
travelling back home in their huge automobile. They had been vacationing (as
they say nowadays) in that great state of Georgia and had decided to take their
time travelling north.
Some ways
outside of Myrtle Beach, the old car started to jump and shudder like it was
trying to do a dance of something. It finally gave up just outside of Little
River – God bless its well-polished over-worked engine.
The father
of the family, a mister Logan Berry (yep, he’d heard them all) had walked a
short distance to a store to use the telephone and call for help.
“They are
saying they will be here when they arrive,” said Mister Berry on his return.
“Whatever
does that mean?” Asked his wife and, as usual, Logan just shrugged his
shoulders, because he’d found that shrugging your shoulder never got a man
misunderstood. Folks just interpreted it to mean whatever they wanted.
“Well if
that’s their answer, then that’s their answer,” said his wife as if they all
understood what was happening. Although to be fair to everyone concerned,
Misses Berry wasn’t the happiest woman in the world. She had a frown on her
that could melt cheese.
Mister Berry
sat on the edge of his automobile entertaining his family with a harmonica
which, I should say, he always carried with him. His darling wife thought it a
common thing to play and had dearly wished that he had learned to play the
violin or something that was in keeping with their station as a family of some
wealth and distinction in Albany.
The family
had a little girl called Amy and a boy, a year or so older, called Eugene. Now
‘Gene and Amy loved nothing better than to dance to their daddy’s music – and here
they were skipping, and hollering, and jumping like the poor Albany kids would
do. Misses Berry just tutted and shook her head.
The family had
a little dog called Hoover (just like the dam) who also liked the sound of the
harmonica as it meant he was let loose to jump and bark with the rest of his
kin. It was in the middle of a
toe-tapping tune that a large truck heading north, tooted as it passed, causing
little Hoover to shoot off into the woods next to the road. This pleased Misses
Berry as it meant that they could call a halt to the family looking common and
instead go searching for their little dog.
They all
split up, even although the mother had insisted that Amy stay close to ‘Gene - and that was why on that summer’s evening, Amy
Berry found herself walking down the old dirt road to Little River.
She thought
she heard a rustling from the undergrowth and shouted out ‘Hoover’ at quite a noise.
“Hoover,” she shouted. “Hoover”.
It was just
then that a soldier, or at least that’s what Amy thought he was, jumped out of
the bushes and told her to keep quiet.
Amy asked
why she should be quiet when she was looking for her little lost dog.
“’Cause they
is all around, that’s ‘cause.”
“Who is all
around?” Asked Amy.
“Why, the
enemy,” said the soldier. “The enemy”.
And with
that he ducked down and signalled to Amy to do the same.
“I will
not,” said Amy. “My mom told me never to listen to boys ‘cause they is stupid”.
Amy had been
on this Earth twelve summers and the soldier couldn’t have been much older than
her. Except for maybe his eyes, they seemed as old as time and gave the
impression they were looking out on a different world.
When the soldier
was satisfied that the enemy weren’t nearby, he stood and introduced himself to
the young girl.
“Ma name is
Zachary James, and I bid you a hello.”
Amy gave him
a strange look on account of his strange way of talking.
“How old are
you?” Asked Amy.
“I ain’t too
sure but I was born in Charleston on a Monday in 1848. Wettest day ever there
was, my Ma said.”
“Why if you
ain’t the most stupidest kid, I ever did meet. 1848? That would make you…”
And Amy
started counting on her fingers but soon run out of them.
“Well I do
believe the year is now 1863, at least it was the last time I was home. Ain’t
nothin’ tellin’ me it’s anythin’ else,” he said, defiantly.
Amy thought
he might be a bit crazy and decided not to upset him anymore. She felt she’d
need to get on looking for her little ‘Hoover’ and to just ignore the stupid
boy pretending to be a soldier.
“I’m just
going to go on looking for my little dog, if you don’t mind,” said Amy.
“Is this
him?” Asked Zach.
And sure
enough when Amy looked over, there was Zach holding little Hoover. Amy couldn’t thank Zach enough, except when it
came to handing over the dog.
“I wants a
kiss,” said Zach.
Amy
shuddered at the thought, but decided it was a fair reward for getting the dog
back.
When she’d
kissed Zach, she wiped her lips with the back of her hands. Zach was grinning
from ear to ear.
“Now let me
grant you a wish,” he said, curiously.
Amy asked
him what he meant and Zach told her that she could wish for anything in the
world. She thought about this and that and then the idea twigged.
“I wish that
my mother was the happiest person in the world.”
“Sure?”
“Sure,” said
Amy.
“Then it’s
done.”
Amy turned
to shield her eyes from the sun and when she looked again, Zach had gone.
Amy held
tightly onto little Hoover as she made her way back to the road. It was what
she saw when she got there that she gave her the biggest of surprises. Her
father was kissing a younger woman, who was most definitely not her mother.
Her father
looked up and smiled at Amy.
“Hey, great
you got the dog.”
Amy looked
around. “Where Mom?”
Her father
and the younger woman looked at each other and laughed.
“Stop with
the joking.”
“I ain’t
joking,” said Amy.
“You know
your mother and I split up years ago and she went to live with that rich guy in
New York.
From what I hear she’s mighty happy.”
I guess you
got to be real careful what you wish for.
bobby stevenson 2015
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