Mum to Lum

You need to watch out how you speak to your elders. True story.

Mum to Lum

Written by: T. L. O’Neal

 

     There used to be this old man that lived around the neighborhood when I was growing up. We lived out in the country where the houses were pretty far apart as neighborhoods go but it was a neighborhood just the same. I never did know were this old guy lived or what his real name was for that matter, but everyone around here just called him “Lum.” He was a kind of a scary old feller to a kid my age, well to any age I suspect because he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t talk at all, so he just flailed his arms about and made this horrible sound like a loud mumbling gurgle. It used to really scare us kids to death. You could probably just imagine how this seemed to some little kids; it was almost like something out of one of those cheap horror films. Of course without all the blood, slime and other cheap effects.

 

   He also had this terrible habit of just walking into anyone’s house in the neighborhood, day or night, just as pretty as you please. He was a regular one-man “Welcome Wagon,” but a scary type of one. It really didn’t matter much to him either, mind you. He’d just walk right in without as much as a “how do you do,” flailing his arms about and hollering as loud as he could go. I’m not sure if he was crazy or anything like that, but to just walk into somebody’s house whenever he had a mind to, well something wasn’t quit right. Back then most people around here left their doors unlocked, especially during the day or were at home. He would go all over the place and scare a lot of these people around here too, even those that were relatives or knew him pretty well. I remember Mama telling us years ago about this one guy that he did that to, who just about shot him sneaking in one night. The only thing that saved him was that he made that awful sound and the man knew who it was and that’s the only thing that saved him from getting shot.

 

    He came into our house one day; it wasn’t long after we had moved back to North Carolina from Texas and thank God that Mama knew who he was or that would have been a predicament. Being that she grew up here and all, she knew who he was, if she hadn’t she probably would have fell-over right away. He slung that screen door open and walked straight in without warning, flailing his arms and making that damn noise at the top of his lungs. That man scared us kids to holy-death, and Mama too for that matter in this instant; like who expects some crazy old man to walk right into their house like that. Us kids didn’t know him at all, so you can imagine how scared we were of this old guy. Mama told him in a scolding manner not to come in our house like that anymore and to at least knock or do something beforehand. I don’t believe it did much good though. As a precaution we did keep the screen door hooked for a while after that. I don’t really think he was ever out to hurt anyone on his little visits, more than likely he was a little bit off or was just visiting in his own special way. Whatever the case, he did scare the s**t out of us boys.

 

    Sometime later on, it must have been late summer or early fall, my brother Alan and me were playing out in a disked-up tobacco field. It hadn’t been disked up for long because the dirt was still like powder. Anyways, like I was saying, we were out there playing with these tobacco stalks. (When they dry out, they’re hollow by the way.) So we were playing with these things and acting like they were old muzzle-loading rifles. We were sticking rocks down the ends of the stalks and ramming them with a smaller stick and acting like we were shooting this and that. It was a nice, poor kid’s toy but it was still a heck of a lot of fun for us.

 

     So we were shooting at this and that and we noticed that old Lum was over yonder on the other side of the field at this other house. He was doing something with a garden rake, not a leaf rake mind you but one of those hard metal ones. Anyways, he was down there raking, minding his own business and all, so we started to think about how that old guy scared us that time. After thinking on it a while, we decided to pay him back a bit, you know a tit for tat kind of thing. So with great marksmanship and a little vengeance too, we took those tobacco sticks guns and pointed them in his direction and said,

 

”Bang, Bang, Bang!”

 

   Well we were young at the time, so what did you expect. We really didn’t expect much out of him doing that either, at the most we were just going to get a laugh out of it.

   

    Anyhow, he saw and heard this and I guess he didn’t like it too much. He was just standing there and started flailing those damn arms of his about and making that horrible sound. We couldn’t understand a damn thing he was saying and if we could have, I’m sure he was doing some cussing and name-calling too.

 

    And for some ungodly reason, maybe it was my age or out of pure stupidity, I mocked him. Not just the sound but the flailing arms and the whole bit. I always have been pretty good at doing impressions and all, but this time it wasn’t well received by my audience. Of course Alan thought it was funny as hell and so did I, till Lum started across that field. He came running and making that noise but instead of flailing his arms about… it was swinging that rake. We weren’t expecting that and we’re in no way, shape or form prepared for it either. So we took off as fast as we could go and ran in pure holy terror from that crazy old man. He could run pretty damn fast too by the way. I guess if you piss-off anyone enough they can find that extra something that they need to go after a couple of smart-a*s kids.

 

    We took off as fast as we could run, our arms a pumping, and feet throwing up dust and probably leaving a urine trail behind too. You know it’s hard as hell to run in newly plowed dirt but he didn’t seem to be having any trouble with it. Those clodhoppers of his were moving a hell of a lot faster than our shoes were going. We thought if we could make it to the creek he would stop, so when we made it to the creek and jumped it like Olympic athletes doing the hurdles. Unfortunately he jumped it like a gold metal winner and we only did it as good a bronze winner at best. He was swinging that rake and making that scary sound the whole time he was coming after us too. By now we were more than scared, I could just see in my mind this old deranged man killing us with that damn rake. We had to get away from this lunatic and in a hurry or otherwise it would be the last of us for sure. So we started to run faster than we ever though possible, we ran past Grandma’s house and didn’t even say hi as we went by, then down through another field, past the tobacco barns and we kept going till we made it all the way home.

 

   When we finally made it into the house, we slammed the door shut and locked it behind us and barricaded it with our bodies. Our hearts felt like they were going to beat out of our chests and I’ve never been that scared in my life. Luckily he stopped before he got that far, where exactly he did stop, I couldn’t tell you. I’m just glad he did, otherwise it would have been like that scene from “The Night of the Living Dead” with those zombies moaning and breaking their way in through the doors and windows. When we finally calmed down a bit and after the fear passed, it was all kind of funny and exciting but we just hoped Mama wouldn’t find out. I knew we weren’t going to say anything and it was a safe bet that old Lum wasn’t either.

 

    We never and I mean never, did that again to him and you can bet on that for sure. One good thing that came out of that was as far as I can remember; he never did come back to the house anymore after that. And you’re probably wondering if I learned anything from this experience too? Well, yes I did as a matter of fact. First thing I learned was not to make fun of an old crazy man with a rake, and secondly… everyone’s a critic.

 

Reviews

[Otto L.n. Pipgras]

haha! this is a great story with a good moral. As kids, we've all made sport of people we labeled as wierd or creepy or different....it usually only took one or two instances like this to deter such mockery....usually...hehe... As usual, great story-telling with a southern flair. Nailed it again, Terry...great write.

[Colleen]

LOL, loved the last line.

[Crystal]

When you publish a book of all these tales please let me know! I'm buyin' it to read as life lessons to my kids! I can just see my son and my nephew gettin' themselves into a fix like this! Makes me laugh just thinkin' about it! Boys, boys, boys! Oh such a good laugh first thing in the mornin'! Thank you!

[Bedlam The Gypsy]

I loved this. Felt like we were sat around a table and you were spouting the story off straight. I can visualize hand gestures and facial expressions. The excitement and adventure's very real, such that the reader's heart races with you as you're tearing off toward home. This was perfect. I love too that you come out of it with some lessons. Hindsight does offer alot.
And like Christy said, I can see your childhood tales all assembled into a book. I know I'd be on the list of fans/readers!

[Krystal Waters]

LOL! I can see you in that tabbacco field flailing your arms and acting like him! That must have been funny until he turned around and started running after you!!! Well I hate to say this but this does sound like something you would do! LOL LOL LOL Nice story!!!

Krystal

[Barry S. Maltese]

Oh the stupid things kids do. Yes, even as adults we do stupid things - we supposedly think it out first. I knew someone like that old man. My story is a bit differant, but we'll save that for another time Great job!

[Christy Hauck]

Another one I love! It got pretty scary for a bit, but that just added to it. Your childhood stories are so hilarious and full of reality that I truly believe you could put them together to make a wonderful short story novel, maybe something similar to The House on Mango Street. Hope that doesnt offend if your not a fan of the book.

[Antony]

Kept me on the edge of my seat, and a good laugh at that. We need more of this kind of stuff on this sight. Brings back memories of my childhood . We had a guy very similiar, we called him the shadow. Great story T.
Tony

[E]

i'm wondering where in god's good state of north carolina you FOUND a guy like this.
i feel so sheltered growing up in a nice little historic district!!!
you musta been out near the more mid part of the state ;)
no worries, this cracked me up. i love having another TRUE TARHEEL on here! i relate to these stories so well.
one time, me and a friend of mine were playing out in her daddies field, tabacco mind you, and it had just been burned. so we're out playing amongst those freshly burned stalks, and managed to get over into someone esles field. it was one of those weird instances where the only thing seperating one mans land from another is a ditch. so this guy that owns it comes barrling out of his house and starts chassing us off his land. even after we got pack onto her daddies field, he came on. we were probably around 8 years old, it was HORRIBLE. we ran straight back to her cow pasture, and that guy came right after us. he didn't stop until he slipped in a huge cow pie :D

to this day, she and i still get the jitters about guys when were anywhere near that field.

anyway now i've gone and told you my own story, but i just had to, cause this reminded me so much of it! great job :D

[Kevin Connolly]

'Everyone's a critic'... that's a cracking last line, Terry.
I knew old Lum - or an elderly Irishman just like him. He strolled into one family's house, got fed and watered, and then strolled on to the next house. They were innocent days...
Good stuff.

[John(agudwun)]

This is an exciting adventure story. As good as the Huckleberry Finn story
any day and probably more exciting. Full of good humor, laughs here and
chuckles there.
The excitement was intense, you pulled your reader in to the story and made
us a part , at least a laughing bystander.
I think this is some sort of classic. I loved it .
My rating: FIVE STARS and FAVORITE