Chapter 4-2

Chapter 4-2

 

            With laughter and chatter filling the air, the cars set off down the road, ready for a day of enjoyment at the picnic in town. As the car approached the park, Sam and Danny couldn’t contain their excitement and began bouncing up and down on the back seat, their faces pressed against the window, taking in the colorful fairgrounds. Their little eyes sparkled with excitement as they finally arrived at the parking lot. As they entered the park, Richard effortlessly hoisted Danny onto his shoulders, while Robert did the same with Sam, their laughter filling the air. Pa raises his voice to be heard above the noise. “We will find our spot,” he said, his words echoing in the air, “and then we’ll come back for the heavy stuff.” With their arms full of quilts, pies, and tablecloths, Ma and the girls excitedly made their way to the park, anticipating a lovely day outdoors.

            It was a bustling scene, with music blaring and people engrossed in a multitude of games, creating a vibrant atmosphere. Your stomach couldn't help but rumble with hunger because of the irresistible scents wafting through the air. The crowd stretched out before her, a chaotic mix of faces and bodies, with people darting in every direction. People jostling and shoving in all directions created a chaotic atmosphere that made her feel as though she was caught in a whirlwind.

Occasionally, as Will and Robert walked by, they would catch people’s eyes fixed on their colorful gowns, their smiles radiating a nonchalant vibe as they waved cheerfully. Robert and Will would nod their heads and offer friendly smiles to EJ, their whispered conversations creating an air of secrecy. “Just wave like you don’t care, we don’t,” Robert said, and they twirled around in their eye stopping gowns, Sam’s laughter added to the joyful atmosphere. That always made him smile a little more than people walked by and stared at them.

            Finally reaching the tables, Pa could see they were nearly full. Pa looked for some friends that he knew, but nobody was there. “Where is everyone, Martha?” He asked, looking at all the faces staring at them.

            “I don’t know, dear,” she replied.

            “Most of these people are town folk. Where are all our friends, where are all our neighbors?” He asked. Seeing an open table, Pa said. “Boys, grab that table quickly while I go find everyone.”

Will and Robert dashed over and sat on the table while the girls spread out, setting down stuff on it. “I’m sorry, miss. You can’t sit here. “I’m sorry, boys.” Someone said to them, “You can't sit here.” Will and Robert quickly dash over to the next table with the girls. "I'm sorry, boys, but you can't sit here," someone said.

Again, there is not one table in the place.

            “Ma, all the tables are gone now; what do we do?” Julie asked.

            Ma looked at the crowd with a hard-cold stare. “We find a nice shade tree, that’s what. They can keep their tables,” she said, a fire burning in her eyes. Julie and Ma spread out the quilt under a tree and waited for Pa… Ma, and the boys could hear people whispering, looking at them and the boys. Will and Robert just waved and smiled. “They want something to whisper about; watch this,” Robert said, and Will stood up and spun around, around, and around. People’s heads turned.

            Ma watched, eyes popping right out of their heads, and laughed. “Thanks, boys, I needed that,” she said.

            “Martha, I can’t find anyone. Nobody’s here?” Pa said with a worried look on his face. “Grandma said she’d be here, and so did everyone else.”

            “Dear, it’s still early yet; maybe they’re running a little late, that’s all,” Ma replies.

            In the distance, you could hear a disturbance. “What do you mean they’re here? Didn’t you tell them they couldn’t be here? Oh, those people got some nerve showing up like that.” Whispers were getting louder, and heads were turning towards the noise. They saw Mrs. Collins heading towards them. The eyes in the crowd followed her down the rows as she went with her staff behind her like a flock of geese squawking. “Must I do everything myself?” She muttered to them.

            Martha and Wayne stood, seeing her coming towards them. “Hello, Mrs. Collins. It’s a nice day for a picnic. We seemed unable to find our spot this year,” Martha said, looking her straight in the eye.

            Mrs. Collins looked at all her children and the boy’s dresses. “Yes, about that, Mrs. Downing,” Mrs. Collins said, looking around at all the people and her staff, “it seems we ran out of room this year for�"”

            “Hello, Mrs. Collins, Wayne, boys, Julie, Anna,” Doc said with a wave.

            “Doc, what in the world?” Wayne replied, seeing him dressed as a simple farmer. Only wearing a pair of farmer overalls and bare foot.

            “Can I have your attention, please?” Mrs. Collins was about to finish speaking, seeing the Mayor and Judge Parker on the podium dressed as simple farmers like Doctor Hatfield. “I would like to get this annual picnic started,” the mayor said, looking around the audience, “by simply turning this event over to Mrs. Collins and her staff. Boys?” The doors opened; the city council members, all dressed as simple farmers, started coming up to the podium. Music plays “Chicken in the Straw.”

            Doc, grabbing Mrs. Collins by the arm, yells back to Wayne. “Stay there, don’t you move,” laughs. Wayne and they are amazed as they observe people whispering, heads turning, and eyes popping back and forth. “As Mayor of this town, I hereby grant Mrs. Collins this day and her staff to run this annual picnic,” he said. Placing a bonnet on her head. “And let the town folk picnic in this park. Why us simple farmers,” he said, snapped his suspenders on his overalls, “leave and have our own farmer’s picnic this year held down by the Downing Farm. Boys, let’s go,” He shouted. “Ye-haw!”

            Looking up, Mrs. Collins seeing the terrifying scene of straw hats suspended in the air, spinning wildly, shocked Mrs. Collins beyond belief. The sight of these backwoods people made Mrs. Collins feel a mixture of overwhelming disgust. Her distaste deepened as she took in their poverty-stricken appearance, lice-infested hair, and broken English. Overwhelmed by her emotions, she stumbled and collapsed, feeling a wave of dizziness and disorientation wash over her.

“Before we leave,” the mayor said, “allow me to introduce you to my friends and the familiar faces of our nearest neighbors.” Suddenly, the air became alive with the sounds of whooping and hollering, as a swarm of Little Indian boys, clad in loincloths, emerged from the crowd in various sizes.

Up around the podium, down again around Mrs. Collins, giving her a little Tommy hawk, then out to the wagon, she swoons. Seeing that one of those boys in the group is her grandson, waves to her and yelled back at her. “Have fun, Grandma,” before climbing on to the wagon with the rest of the boys, heading down to the field.

            Suddenly, a boisterous group of men and boys emerged, their animated conversation blending with the captivating East African drumbeat. Amid the crowd, there was a group of men dressed in Kitenge gowns that seemed to radiate energy, as they moved with confidence and swirled their necklaces to the pulsating rhythm of the drums, while their wives mirrored their striking fashion choices. Kitenge dresses, with their distinctive cuts and delicate lacing, were the preferred choice for the ladies, as they believed it added a fashionable flair. The dress underwent a dramatic transformation as they added bows and extra lace around the neckline, resulting in a significantly longer and more refined look. Match the rhythm of the music as they perform the same dance, wearing a bright smile and enthusiastically waving to the crowd.

            Just for fun and to make a point, Doc had all the city council dress as simple farmer boys and throw in some extra surprises at the end. “Now, folks, as you can see, it doesn’t matter to us who we meet on the street. Heck, they can have some hair like these folks here,” the mayor said as everyone laughed at the woman and man’s hair piled high as a tower, “or no hair like mister bald as an eagle.” Everyone laughed.

            “Green, red, or even blue, it doesn’t matter to us,” he said, as a man and woman came dashing out, their smiles and nods bringing a sense of unity to the crowd. “In all honesty, we farmers are just simple folks, much like all of you, and it doesn’t bother us.” The sound of Old Betsy firing in the background filled the air, causing everyone to turn their heads.

Mrs. Collins plummets from her chair. Her body hits the ground with a thud, causing the wagon’s occupants to burst into exuberant cries of “Yee-haw!” as they forge ahead towards the farm. As Doc and the Judge approached her, they extended a bouquet, their vibrant colors contrasting against the dull surroundings. As they bid her farewell, they each planted a quick peck on her cheek, their hushed voices inviting her, “Sorry, Gertrude, come join us if you’d like, dear.” With a smile, the mayor passed her the keys to the park, encouraging the guests to make the most of their picnic, and then kindly supported her as she regained her balance, observing the crowd as they exited the grounds. Pickups, cars, and hay wagons descended towards Downing the farm, filling the air with the sounds of engines and the clatter of wheels.

            Wayne and Martha stood at the park entrance, watching them leave. “Now there are tables to be found,” Pa laughed. Stunned, Mrs. Collins looked around at the town folk still left, noticing that more than half were leaving.

            Doc and the Judge approached them. “What are you still doing here, Wayne? Aren’t you a simple farmer? After all, that’s where all your friends and neighbors are, now git,” he said and pointed them back to their cars.

            “Yes, sir,” as they all laugh.

            The Downings headed back to the farm, happy as clams, knowing home was where they needed to be all along. When they pulled back into the farm, everyone was waiting for them: Steve, Mary, Lizzy, and Grandma, with one extra visitor they hadn’t met yet, all sitting on the front porch. “Well, it’s about time you guys got back,” Grandma said, standing up and giving them all a big hug.

            Martha wiped the tears from her eyes. “I was so worried when we didn’t see any of you,” she said.

            “Of course not, dear. We were all here waiting for you, silly dears,” Grandma said.

“Now then, high time we met, I’d say. Wayne, Martha, children, I’m Aunt Margaret,” she said. Aunt Margaret, also known by most as Aunty M, who lives in Salt Lake City, and her husband Mike Cotwellar, whom EJ had met a few times whenever they came down for Christmas when he was younger and more recently behind the looking glass.

            Aunt Margaret’s was at least two heads taller than Grandma’s, and she had raven black and gray hair that seemed to make her older. She had a hard, straight nose and steely blue eyes that always seemed to look into your very soul.

            She had a keen sense for detecting fibs and tall tales. With a stubbornness that matched the rest of us, she could easily outdo a mule when it came to determination. Whether they were acquaintances or family, she possessed secrets about everyone, keeping their personal stories locked away. Trying to keep a secret from her is pointless; she has a knack for discovering things she’s not supposed to know. It was quite possible that she was already aware of it. Though she was in her late seventies, she remained as strong and productive as she was in her youth, leaving others in awe.

            Mike, her husband who had recently passed away, lived a double life that very few knew of, including his wife, Margaret. Until the day he died, he had been sick for a very long time. He was the first person besides EJ’s grandfather to take an interest in her when she was growing up.

            They had been told Mike owned a sheep ranch and lumber mill and could put most men to shame, either shaving the wool off a sheep or chopping down trees, riding bareback on a log train, going down the river.

            In his prime, he was the average height of most men, built with muscular arms like Pa, but no bigger than seven feet or six inches. Mike had a way of making you feel right at home and was as gentle as the morning rain. He had one bad habit of smelling like a can of old sardines. He ate them like candy; all EJ can say is yew when it came to bad breath with a mixture of Hall’s Cough Drops.

            “Aunt Margaret?” Martha gasps, looking around. “Where are the boys?” She asked.

            “Oh, they’re around, dear,” she said as she laughed. “Oh, yes, they are most definitely around. Now then, shall we? Let’s go have some fun,” she replied.

            Ensuring there was enough space for everyone, Pa hitched the wagon, ensuring a cozy ride for all. He thinks it would be a better idea to drive the wagon towards the farmer’s picnic in their hayfield this time, but Aunt Margaret is completely against it. “Don’t underestimate me, Wayne,” she chuckled. “I may be old, but that doesn’t stop me from having a little fun now and then.” With a quick flick of the wrist, the horses lurch forward, their sudden movement causing them to jump and then swiftly gallop past the house and down the road, with everyone holding on tightly. The sound of laughter from Pa, the boys, the aunts, and Ma resonates in the background as they happily make their way down to the picnic.

            “Yes, sir,” Steve said, grimacing, “wagons are better than cars,” Steve said, watching the horse lifts its tail. With laughter all around, Steve felt the weight of the shovel being pressed into his palms as his friends congratulated him. Pa expertly ties up the horses and joins the Downing family in their reserved spot, surrounded by the familiar faces of family, friends, and neighbors on all sides. Ma and the ladies spread the tablecloths, the soft fabric adding a touch of elegance to the outdoor setting.

            Ma looks under the table, not surprised, and smiles, finding all the boys’ shoes and socks and putting them all back in the wagon. There were kids everywhere; she could see Frank, Mark, and Peter wearing their colorful Kitenge gowns and playing with Will, Robert, EJ, and the other boys. Sitting down next to her, Renee watches intently, taking in every detail. “Funny, isn’t it,” she said, “how they don’t seem to care like we do. It takes us longer,” she said, watching her husband walk through a crowd, turning heads as he passed by wearing a bright yellow, red and orange Kitenge gown.

            Martha giggles at the sight when their heads turn for a second glance: a man in a weird-looking dress. “Yes, but I like it,” she said, watching her boys play. Martha looked in the far corner, seeing EJ’s parents trying not to growl as she watches them, and waved back to them, trying to be friendly at least. Jim and Linda just stare back at them and girls whispering to them.

             “Look, Mamma, over there, see what I mean?” Peggy said, pointing to where the boys were all playing. “He’s wearing a dress and barefoot, all of them. Just look at them. It is so disgusting, nothing but filthy lowlife hillbillies worse than animals,” she said.

            Grandma walked over to them, her footsteps slow and deliberate. “Peggy,” she scolded, “it's impolite to point or stare.” Grandma's face lights up with a smile as she sees Doctor Whitmore. When, her mind buzzing with a cunning plan. Her voice brimming with anticipation, she eagerly called out to him, “Doctor Whitmore?” With a friendly wave, Doc's voice cuts through the chatter, causing heads to turn and eyes to focus on him. As he approaches Betty, his Kitenge gown billows around him, adding a touch of elegance to his movements.

            “Yes, Betty?” He said.

“They are eagerly looking forward to finally meeting you in person, after not meeting you face-to-face.” She chuckled, thinking only in the nude. Linda and Jim’s eyes pop right out of their heads, seeing his gown; it could stop traffic at lunchtime and make a horse go blind. “He’s from East Africa,” she said, a hint of excitement in her voice. Doc twirls around, the sound of his necklaces jingling against his bare chest, only to realize he’s also barefoot, causing grandma to smile to look down not surprised.

Jim and Linda were on the edge, their composure fragile and barely holding it together. Overwhelmed by the sight, Linda feels lightheaded and on the verge of fainting. The shock of seeing everyone naked at the pond was even worse than glimpsing him in this dress even worse without his clothes, when she saw him at the pond. Linda takes one more look around. “I want to go home, Jim. These people are crazy. Come on, girls. Grandma, you can stay if you like with these filthy immoral hillbillies’ lowlifes, but I am going home,” she said.

            Grandma said. “How about you girls stay with Grandma and have some fun?”

            “Are you nuts, Grandma?” They asked, looking at kids running around having a good time, laughing, playing, not caring who’s who or what they are wearing or not wearing, seeing many of the boys barefoot and shirtless. “No way, Grandma; they’re nuttier than a fruit basket, that’s no fun at all. Trust us, we know, and we are not hillbillies,” they replied.

            Grandma shakes her head, sighs. “Alright then,” tries to hug them each, but they turned their backs so she couldn’t “I’ll be back late,” she said. Completely understanding they still have a grudge against her.

            With a nod, Jim emitted a low, menacing growl that sent chills down their spines. Against his will, he begrudgingly agreed to his mother's demands, for now. His words were barely audible, a hushed mutter of resignation, “If you must, Mother.” Imagining his late father's reaction, he couldn't help but feel certain that he would have had no patience for her constant interference. However, he also recalled the discomfort of the ground's rough texture scraping against his bare feet, and the sticky sensation of sweat dampening his shirtless body, a feeling he found more unbearable than the blazing sun. That's why cold showers are preferable, as well as a nice cool bathtub where he can soak without having to expose everything.

He ruled over his domain with an iron fist, exerting his control in every corner of his home. The oppressive heat did not bother him since he was used to the sweltering temperatures. Contrary to popular belief, he was not a hillbilly despite his upbringing. His intense loathing for them all burned within him like a raging fire.

What caught his attention even more was the fact that his mother held a high opinion of the accused Downing family and others in the area. Their lightheartedness and genuine kindness were qualities she frequently admired and commended. With an even greater intensity, he loathed them, finding every detail of their presence repulsive.

“Son, I have to take matters into my own hands because I can't rely on the two of you anymore, particularly given the ongoing mistreatment you've shown towards your two boys.” She said.

In a fit of heated rage, her son Jim turned around and lashed out, his voice filled with anger. Shouting with conviction, he declared, "All lies," and his words shattered the silence, leaving a bitter aftertaste in the air. You trust the deceitful words of two entitled brats and low-class hillbillies rather than your own flesh and blood. Let me set the record straight - I had nothing to do with pushing him through that window, as he falsely claims. Mother. He Jumped on his own power. We both refrained from pressuring him to do it, allowing him to make his own decision. Every word that escaped his lips was a web of deceit and lies. Your gullibility is astonishing, like a never-ending whirlwind of unquestioning belief. It's truly astounding. Our actions were a direct reflection of what they truly deserved, and we didn't go beyond or fall short. With each step, Jim moved closer to her until they were standing eye to eye, their breaths mingling in the air. The growling became even more ferocious, sending shivers down her spine. I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if you refrain from coming back. I think it's best if you mind your own God damn business and leave me to mine.”

With her hand raised, ready to deliver a slap, Doctor Whitmore, who intervened by pushing Jim to the ground stopped her in her tracks. “Jim, it would be wise to depart now to steer clear of another stint behind bars. I have witnessed the pain you have brought upon both of the boys, seeing their injuries with my own eyes. With great attention to detail, I have recorded every aspect, with additional support from your neighbor's testimony, to present a thorough account of you and your wife Linda's activities.

“In a court of law, I will swear on the bible to confirm that you had methodically devised and attempted to execute the murder of your two sons, your mother, and even the Downings. We all watched the excavation of the tiny graveyard you were digging to everyone in. We discovered several intriguing items there that I believe would captivate a judge. I'll let you have a head start before my friends and I come after you, just to make things interesting.”

Jim's heart raced as he jolted upright from the ground, his eyes scanning the scene over Doctor Whitmore's shoulder. He came face to face with a gang of menacing hillbillies, their toothless grins and the glint of their sledgehammers and rifles sending a shiver down his spine. Jim's menacing growl reverberated through the picnic area, causing an eerie silence to descend. “Before I even step foot in that courtroom, I will ensure that every one of you meets your demise. I know well that in this small, rural town filled with uneducated locals, my wife and I won't receive a fair trial; it's simply not possible in this place.” With a quick pivot, Jim hastened towards the car, their heart pounding in their chest, the sound of tires screeching on the dirt road echoing in their ears as they raced away, aching to leave it all in the rearview mirror.

 

With a heavy heart, Grandma joins the Downings, her head shaking in resignation, aware of the unpleasant incident that had occurred, hoping to preserve the remaining moments of their gathering. Knowing she would have to face her son Jim and his wife Linda alone when she got back, she felt a pang of anxiety. “Martha,” she said, patting her hand, her sigh filled with a mix of exhaustion and relief. “Those trees are tough, dear, that’s for sure. Now then, let’s say we kick up our heels, dear; we have earned a little fun, placing her shoes under the table,” she said.

Anyone’s stomach would rumble with hunger at the sight of the food on the table. The table was overflowing with a variety of vittles - pies, cakes, tarts, rolls, bread, and an assortment of meats. The aroma drifted on the breeze, luring them in with its tantalizing scent. Whatever you can imagine, it was there. The smell was so intoxicating that any man or boy would be driven crazy. It was a heaven-delight. The air was alive with the buzzing of the tables, creating a vibrant atmosphere. Soft music filled the air, creating a soothing background melody.

            People were laughing, having a good time, not caring who or what people were or what they were wearing or not wearing to them; simple farmers included them all. It was enough that he was my friend or brother, as they laughed and played together.

            Everyone cleared the tables for the dancing, turning on the lights. “Everyone, grab a partner, guys, and gals; come on, fellas, don’t be shy. Everyone in the middle put yer hands together. Slap yer knees, clap those hands, slide yer feet side to side. Grab yer partner around the waist; come on, fellas, she won’t bite. Swing her around, swinger yer to the right, then to the left, then lift her high in the air. Not too high now,” slap, “what’d do that fer? Sit her gentle back on the ground. Then do the dosey, doe. Yee-haw.”

            They danced across the dance floor all night, the grown-ups, and the young adults alike. Even Richard met a young felly he liked to dance with her the most. Then things settle down with an explosion of fireworks in the sky. Blues and green sprinkled like little diamonds, stars falling from the sky; kids and families spread out on quilts, watching the fireworks burst from the sky.

In the crowd could hear oohs and awes after each burst of the explosion of new colors of reds and greens popping above them. Kids were running around with sparklers in their hands and having a good time on the cool summer evening, and the young ins played the night away. Young lovers found spots under the stars to watch the fireworks; some created their own. Yes, this was a picnic of wonders of magic and sports of all kinds. Old farmers loading the hay wagons for rides under the clear night sky and down by the pond for a quick little dip before bedtime.