Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe (19 page)

He squinted at her and said, in his high nasal little voice, "Have a seat."

Idgie looked around the room and saw that it wasn't busy, and then sat down across from him. He took a bite of his sandwich and looked at her, hard. "How ya doing?" Idgie said. "Found that man you was looking for yet?”

This time he glanced around the room and then leaned across the table, his face sharp like a razor. "You're not fooling me, girlie girl. I know who you are. Don't think for a minute you are fooling me. . . . You gotta get up early in the morning to put one over on Curtis Smoote. Yes sir, the first time I come in here, I knowed I'd seen you somewhere before, but I couldn't place you. So I made a few phone calls, and last night it come to me who you were."

He sat back and continued eating, never taking his eyes off her. Idgie, hot batting an eye, waited for him to continue.

"Now, I got me a sworn statement from this fellow Jake, that works out at the Bennett place, that someone answering the description of you and that big black buck you got out in the back, there, come over with a bunch and took Bennett's wife off, and that nigger threatened Bennett with a knife."

He picked a piece of dark meat out of his sandwich and put it on his plate and looked at it. "Besides that, I was in the back of the barbershop that day, and me and a whole bunch heard you threaten to kill him. Now, if I can remember, you can be damn sure the rest of them will."

He took a swig of his cold drink and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. "Now, I cain't say Frank Bennett was no particular friend of mine . . . no sir. I got my oldest girl living in a shack, outside of town, with a kid, because of him, and I heard tell of what was going on out at his place. And I would venture a guess that there's others that wouldn't shed a tear if he was to show up dead. But it looks to me, girlie girl, that you would be in a whole passel of trouble if he did, 'cause the fact that you threatened him twice is in the official record, and I can tell you right now, that don't look too good in black and white.

"What we're talking about here, girlie, is murder . . . running afoul of the law. And nobody can get away with that."

He leaned back in the booth and took on a casual air. "Now, of course, just hypothetically speaking, of course, if it was me in your shoes, why, I'd figure it would do me a whole lot of good if that body didn't show up at all. Yes, a whole lot of good... or if anything that belonged to him was to be found, for that matter. I'd figure it wouldn't bode well if anybody could prove that Frank Bennett had been over here at all, you understand, and I'd figure, if I was smart, that is, it would be real important to make sure there wasn't nothing to find."

He glanced up at Idgie to make sure she was listening. She was.

"Yes sir, that would be too bad, 'cause I'd have to come back over here and arrest you and your colored man on suspicion. Now, I'd hate to come back over here after you, but I will 'cause I'm the law and I'm sworn to uphold it. You cain't beat the law. Do you understand that?"

Idgie said, "Yes sir."

Having made his point, he pulled a quarter out of his pocket and threw it on the table, put his hat on, and said as he was leaving, "Of course, Grady may be right. He may just show back up at home one of these days. But I ain't gonna hold my breath."

JANUARY 7, 1931

Local Man Feared Dead

The search for Frank Bennett, 38, a lifelong resident of Valdosta, missing from his home since early morning December 13 of last year, has officially ended. The extensive search, conducted by Detective Curtis Smoote, and Detective Wendell Riggins, led to people being questioned as to Bennett's whereabouts as far away as Tennessee and Alabama. However, neither Bennett nor the truck in which he was traveling at the time of the disappearance has been recovered.

"We left no stone unturned," said Officer Smoote in an interview early today. "He just seems to have vanished off the face of the earth."

MARCH 19, 1931

Sad News for All of Us

After having lost their daddy a year before, it was another sad trip home for Leona, Mildred, Patsy Ruth, and Edward Threadgoode, who all came back home for their mother's funeral.

After the service, we all went over to the Threadgoode house, and everyone in town must have been there to pay their respects to Momma Threadgoode. Half the people here practically grew up over at the Threadgoode house with she and Poppa. I can never forget the good times we had over there and how she always made us feel so welcome. As for me, I met my better half over there at one of their big Fourth of July parties. We courted with Cleo and Ninny, and many an hour was spent sitting on that front porch after church. Everybody is going to miss her and the place is not going to seem the same without her.

. . . Dot Weems . . .

MAY 11, 1986

Evelyn Couch opened the plastic Baggie full of carrot sticks and celery she had brought for herself and offered them to her friend. Mrs. Threadgoode declined, but went on eating her orange-marshmallow peanuts. "No thank you, honey, raw food just doesn't sit well with me. Why're you eating raw food, anyway?”

"It's' Weight Watchers, well, kind of. I can eat anything I want as long as it doesn't have fat or sugar in it."

"Are you trying to slim down again?"

"Yes. I'm going to try. But it's hard. I've gotten so fat."

"Well, you do what you want to, but I still say you look fine to me."

''Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, you're sweet to say so, but I've gotten up to a size sixteen,”

"You don't look heavy to me. Essie Rue . . . now, she was heavyset.  But then, she was always inclined in that direction, ever since she was a little girl But I guess at one time she got up to well over two hundred pounds."

"She did?"

"Oh yes, but she never let it bother her, and she always dressed up in the best-looking outfits and always had a little flower in her hair to match. Everybody used to say that Essie Rue looked like she had just stepped out of a bandbox, and she had the cutest little hands and feet. Everybody in Birmingham used to talk about what cute little feet she had when she got her job playing the mighty Wurlitzer . . ."

"The what?"

"The mighty Wurlitzer organ. They had it down at the Alabama Theater for years. They said it was the largest organ in the south, and I believe they were right. We'd all get on the streetcar and go over and see the picture show. I'd always go when Ginger Rogers was playing. She was my favorite player. That girl is the most talented one they got out there in Hollywood. I don't even care to see a picture if she's not in it . . . she can do it all: dance, sing, act . . . what have you . . .

"But anyhow, between shows, the lights would go down and you'd hear this man's voice saying, 'And now, the Alabama Theater is proud to present . . ." he'd always say that, 'proud to present' Miss Essie Rue Limeway, performing on the mighty Wurlitzer. And from far away you'd hear this music . . . and then, all of a sudden, here would come this huge organ, rising up from the floor, and there would be Essie Rue, playing her theme song, 'I'm in Love with the Man in the Moon.' And all the spotlights would hit her and the sound of that organ would fill the theater and shake the rafters. Then she'd turn around and smile and never miss a note; and move into another song. Before you knew it, she'd be playing 'Stars Fell on Alabama' or 'Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries,' And her tiny little feet would just fly over those pedals like butterflies! She wore ankle straps that she ordered especially from Loveman's department store.

"You'd think she'd put weight on everywhere, but she never did, just her body.

"Everybody has their good points, and she knew hers and played them up. That's why I hate to see you so down on yourself. I was telling Mrs. Otis the other day, I said, 'Evelyn Couch has got the prettiest skin I ever saw,' I said. 'She looks like her mother has just kept her wrapped up in cotton all her life.' “

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Threadgoode."

"Well, it's true. You don't have a wrinkle on you. I also told Mrs. Otis that I thought you ought to think about selling some of that Mary Kay cosmetics. With your skin and personality, why I bet you could get yourself a pink Cadillac in no time. My neighbor Mrs. Hartman has a niece who sells it and she made a bundle, and Mary Kay gave her a pink Cadillac as a bonus. And she's not half as pretty as you are."

Evelyn said, "Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, thank you for saying that, hut I'm too old to start anything like that. They want young women."

"Evelyn Couch, how can you say that, you are still a young woman. Forty-eight years old is just a baby! You've got half your life left to live yet! Mary Kay doesn't care how old you are. She's no spring chicken herself. Now, if it was me and I had that skin and was your age, I'd make a try at that Cadillac. Of course, I'd have to get me a driver's license, but I'd try for it anyway.

"Just think, Evelyn, if you live to be as old as I am, you've got thirty-seven more years to go . . ."

Evelyn laughed. "What does it feel like to be eighty-six, Mrs. Threadgoode?"

"Well, I don't feel any different. Like I say, it just creeps up on you. One day you're young and the next day your bosoms and your chin drops and you're wearing a rubber girdle. But you don't know you're old. Course, I can tell when I look in the mirror . . . sometimes it nearly scares me to death. My neck looks just like old crepe paper, and I've got so many wrinkles and there's nothing you can do about it. Oh, I used to have something from Avon for wrinkles, but it didn't last but about an hour and they all came back, so I finally stopped fooling with it.  I don't even put on a face anymore, just a little lotion and eyebrow pencil, so you can tell I've got eyebrows . . . they're white now, honey . . . and I'm full of liver spots." She looked at her hands. "You wonder where all those little fellows come from.”  Then she laughed.  “I’m even too old to make a good picture.  Francis wanted to snap a picture of me and Mrs. Otis, but I hid my head.  Said I might break the camera.”

Evelyn asked if she ever got lonesome out there.

“Well yes, sometimes I do.  Of course all my people are gone . . . but once in a while some of the ones from the church come to see me, but it’s just hello and goodbye.  That’s just the way it is, hello and goodbye.

“Sometimes I look at my picture of Cleo and little Albert and wonder what they are up to . . .  and dream about the old days.”

She smiled at Evelyn.  “That’s what I’m living on now, honey, dreams, dreams of what I used to do.”

NOVEMBER 18, 1940

Stump was in the back room shooting at cardboard blackbirds with a rubber-band gun and Ruth was correcting papers when Idgie came banging in the back door from the annual Dill Pickle Club fishing trip.

He ran and jumped up on her and nearly knocked her down.

Ruth was glad to see her because she always worried whenever Idgie went off for a week or more especially when she knew she was down at the river with Eva Bates.  Stump ran out to look on the back steps.

“Where’s the fish?”

“Well Stump,” Idgie said, “the truth is, we caught a fish, it was so big we couldn’t get it out of the water.  We took a picture of it, though, and the picture alone weighs twenty pounds . . .”

“Oh Aunt Idgie, you didn’t catch any fish!”

About that time, they heard, “
Whooo-ooo,
it’s me . . . me and Albert, come to visit . . .” and in came a tall, sweet-looking woman, with her hair twisted back in a knot, and a little retarded boy, about Stump’s age coming to visit, just like they had every day for the past ten years; and they were always glad to see her.

Idgie said, "Well hey there, gal, how you doing today?"

"Just fine," she said, and sat down. "How are you girls doing?"

Ruth said, "Well, Ninny, we almost had some catfish for supper, but they must not have been biting." She laughed. "We're having photographs instead."

Ninny was disappointed. "Oooh, Idgie, I wish you had brought me a good ol' catfish tonight . . . I love a good catfish. What a shame, I can just taste him."

"Ninny," Idgie said, "catfish don't bite in the dead of winter."

"They don't? Well, you'd think they would be just as hungry in the winter as they are in the summer, wouldn't you?"

Ruth agreed. "That's true, Idgie. Why don't they bite this time of year?"

"Oh, it's not that they're not hungry, it has to do with the temperature of the worm. A catfish won't eat a cold worm, no matter how hungry it gets."

Ruth looked at Idgie and shook her head, always amazed at the tales she could come up with.

Ninny said, "Well, that makes sense. I hate my food to get cold, myself, and I guess even if you were to heat up the worms, they would be cold by the time they got to the bottom of the river, wouldn't they? And speaking of cold, hasn't it been a cold old winter? It's as cold as blitzen out there."

Albert was across the room playing with Stump and shooting at the cardboard blackbirds. While Ninny was having her coffee, she had a thought. "Stump, do you reckon you could come over to my house and shoot your gun at these old black-birds that are sitting on my telephone wires? I don't want you to hurt them, I just want you to scare them off . . . I think they're up there listening to my telephone calls, through their feet."

Ruth, who adored Ninny, said, "Oh Ninny, you don't think that's true, do you?"

"Well, honey, that's what Cleo told me."

BY MR MILTON JAMES

NOVEMBER 19, 1940

 Faith Act Used to Fleece Woman

Out of $50 in Cash

Mrs Sallie Jinx, of 68-C Howell Street, S.E., was the victim of flimflam, she reported to police yesterday.  Mrs Jinx said a woman, known to her as Sister Bell, came to her home and, through a faith act, pretended to tie $50 of her money in a napkin and put it in a trunk with instructions not to open the napkin until four hours later. When the napkin was opened, the money was gone, the victim stated.