I was reminded by a friend yesterday that I had promised to share more stories from my Mom. She told me and my sister this story probably a dozen times or more over our lifetime. She told it to us as young children while lying on quilts under the stars, sitting in the swing in the moonlight, on picnics in the mts. as grade schoolers and as teenagers lying across the bed while Rock and Roll was playing in the background. This was what she told us about the day she had her encounter with, "Old Scratch".
When I was a little girl all the families in our community were middle to lower class. We were all just plain folk...in other words, we were poor but we didn't not know it then. Most of the toys we played with were homemade...homemade dolls and wooden toys our parents or Grandparents made for us. The summer I was eight, everyday I would hurry to get my chores done so I could go outside and play. All of the kids who lived up and down the road (and it was an old dirt road and not a street) would gather either in somebody's yard or in the road to play. It was safe to play in the road because most everybody walked everywhere. It was rare to see a horse and wagon and even more rare to see an automobile. We played "Red Rover Come Over", "Button, Button Who's Got the Button,""Hide and Seek" and every once in a while someone would bring a new toy to share. When we played in the road we had to be very careful not to even step one foot onto one of our neighbor's property. His name was, Mr. True, and he hated children. Some of the children called him, The Devil, but I knew he wasn't the devil because Momma read us the Bible and I knew that the Devil lived down in hell with all his demon bugger men. Most folks called Mr. True, "Old Scratch", which my Momma told me was another name for the Devil.
This particular day one of the younger boys named, "Buddy Tipton", had just had a birthday and he brought out a new red rubber ball. We were all in awe of it because none of us had ever had a store bought beautiful red rubber ball before. Someone suggested that we play dodge ball or keep away and boy, were we having a grand old time when one of the older boys through the ball too hard. Up in the air it went and down it landed in the yard of "Old Scratch". We watched it as it rolled across the yard and under the old wooden front steps of his house. Gasps came from the kids as they stood paralized. "Noooooo" and "That ball is a gonner" was heard from the bunch. Buddy started to cry. I looked at the ball laying there under the steps and then I looked at the kids standing there with their sad faces. It just made me so mad that I said, "I'll get the ball".
"Noooo, Troy, you'll be killed" one of the children said. Another begged me to let it go but, you see, never before had we been able to play with such a nice, new toy and I was determined "Old Scratch" would not keep us from the fun we had been having. I put one foot in front of the other and started toward the yard. As I walked closer and closer to the forbidden property, the kids gravitated together until they were huddled up like a football team. Buddy was sobbing louder and louder. The more he cried the madder I got and the more courage I mustered up. I made it onto the yard, then on over to the steps and there under the steps I saw the red ball. I bent down and just as I reached for the ball and took it into my hand, I heard the squeek of the devil's screen door followed by footsteps on the old wood porch. Chills ran down my spine. I eased the ball out and stood up. There on the top step stood "Old Scratch".
"What you think you're doin' girl? You know I don't allow no children up in here. I said, What you doin' on my property?"
I looked into his wrinkled old mean face with fuzzy eyebrows hanging over his evil eyes and started to turn and run. But, the thought that he kept us all so scared all the time made me so mad that I spoke up and said," I'm just gettin' our ball. It rolled over here by accident and I ain't hurtin' nothing."
He stepped down the three wooden steps and hoovered right over me.
"Girl, you see these hands?" he held up his big old dirty hands right in my face.
"I kill kids with my bare hands and burry 'em right under my fingernails"
I don't know what came over me but I looked at his hands and then at his nails and answered,"Well Sir, the dirt sure looks like it's deep enough for a burrin' "...then I ran like a cat with it's tail on fire. He swung his fists in the air and growled.
Momma had been out on our front porch and she had seen that something was going on down the road so she walked down the road to check on me. When Mr. True saw her he yelled,"You'll never raise that one...not with that smart mouth. You hear me, you'll never raise her to be growed up."
Momma got me by the ear and led me home but from that day on all the kids in the neighborhood talked about how brave I was to take on "Old Scratch".
Later that year on my way to school , I'd see him in his porch rocker and I'd throw up my hand or nod to speak. Most of the time he acted like he didn't see me. Then one day he actually waved back and later even gave me a little grin out the side of his mouth. I knew that he could not be all bad 'cause Momma told me that there was good in everybody and that maybe he just didn't get enough lovin' when he was growing up.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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