50 Foot Woman

Memoir of six-year-old Matt Briggs concerning a part of his year and a half in Phoenix, Arizona in the late '50s (January '58-July '59).

Fifty Foot Woman

by

James Oliver Smith, Jr

 

 

 

 

Hello ... Hello ... My name is Matt. Matt Briggs ... "Is that OK?"

"You are doing fine, Matt. Go on."

That's Brother Hardesty. He's the preacher here and he's letting me do this. ... "OK Brother Hardesty. You can go now. I want to be alone."

"That's fine Matt. I'll go now. Just turn the lights out when you are ready to go to bed. I'll be in the next room if you need me. Have fun with your autobiography."

He keeps calling it an autobiography, this recording. He says an autobiography is a story that someone tells about their life, and I guess that is what I'm doing—telling the story of my life.

Brother Hardesty says this is called a tape recorder. He showed me how to push this button to start it and push that button to stop it. I can even rewind it so I can listen. How do they get me in there? Brother Hardesty says its just technology and that I shouldn't worry about it. I don't know what that is either, but I believe him.

I live in Phoenix, Arizona, and I just started second grade. I can read and write now, but I really like just talking into this ... this ... oh yeah, this microphone ... at least that's what Brother Hardesty calls it.

I'm kind of scared. I don't think that I could have done this when I was young, like when I lived in Texas. But now I'm ready, I think. I just don't want the Fifty Foot Woman to know I'm doing this... Oh, that's my mother ... the Fifty Foot Woman... I call her that because she looks just like Nancy in the movie.

Brother Hardesty took me to a double feature at a drive-in a couple of weeks ago and we saw Attack of the 50 Foot Woman and The Blob. I got so scared that Brother Hardesty let me stay with him here at the church rather than go home. That's when he showed me how to use this tape machine.

Fortunately, the Fifty Foot Woman likes preachers and lets me do almost anything with them. She wants me to be a preacher like Brother Hardesty, just like she wanted my dad to be. But she says my dad doesn't want to be a preacher and doesn't want to be with us and that is why he never comes home. I don't like it when he comes home anyway because The Fifty Foot Woman gets mad when his around. I think he's afraid to come home. He just sits at the table and looks at his food. The Fifty Foot Woman tells him that he needs to make more money and that he is lazy. But he just sits there, never saying a word, not even to me. I don't think he likes any of us.

The Fifty Foot Woman wants to save Mexicans from Catholics, who are worse than anything else. She just wants to work in churches. That's all she talks about, Catholics and how bad my dad is.

I like Annette Funicello. I like Walt Disney, and I like fruit.

In the trailer, when the Fifty Foot Woman is in the church and my dad is at work I get to watch the Mickey Mouse Club, Roy Rogers and Soupy Sales. I like being in the trailer when I'm alone. The Fifty Foot Woman is in the church saving Mexicans from Catholics and Mexicans who have already been saved from Catholics take care my sisters.

I love to Watch Walt Disney, but it is on TV Wednesday nights and that is a church night, like almost every night, and twice on Sunday and the Fifty Foot Woman won't let me stay home to watch it.

I don't like church.

The trailer is parked here on the church parking lot, next to a field that big kids use with their go-carts. They've built trails, hills and bridges. They drive fast and make lots of dust, but I like to watch. I wish I was big enough to ride one of those go-carts, but the Fifty Foot Woman says those kids are bad because they don't go to church. She also says that the Juan's bar across the street is bad. Only bad people go into bars, like Catholics. The Fifty Foot Woman doesn't like Catholics, more than almost anything in the world except my dad. Did I already say that?

I walk to school every morning, past Juan's Bar across the street and then I pass the fruit stand, with bananas, apples, oranges, pears, tangerines, grapes and apricots. It's a big stand by the sidewalk, with everything I like. I have to stop every day to look and smell. By the time I leave I get to school late, then teacher frowns and stares at me when I come in the door.

Then one day I decide to stay there and talk to the man who is always there. He is really tall, dark and nice. He speaks Spanish to Mexicans like him. I don't want the Fifty Foot Woman to know this because I don't want her to try and save him. I don't want him to become like her.

The fruit man smiles at me and waves his big hand with a scar on his palm. He says it is from a bad cut with a knife when he was working in the fields. He smells like onions. I like onions. He says "buenos dias" like the Mexicans at church. He lets me ask questions and smell the fruit. I like being there so I hand him my lunch money and ask him how much fruit I can buy. He asks what I want and I pick up some grapes, some tangerines, apples and pears. He puts them all into a paper bag and I sit down in the shade of the stand and start eating. I stay there all day and watch people buy fruit and talk to the fruit man. I like hearing the Spanish and wonder why the Fifty Foot Woman never speaks Spanish to the Mexicans she's trying to save from Catholics.

When school kids pass the stand I know it is time to go home so I tell the fruit man I'm leaving.

"See you tomorrow, Matt," he says. I like the way he says it with his Mexican accent.

The fruit bag is heavy and hard to carry, but I am proud of how much fruit I bought. It is strange passing by Juan's Bar and smelling the beer mixed with the odors of fruit. I still don't know why only Catholics go in there.

I start thinking about the Fifty Foot Woman and what she will say when I get home. I know she won't like me missing school and spending the lunch money if she finds out, so I need to think of something. When the street light at the corner of Juan's Bar turns green for me to walk I see her walking from the church to the trailer. Then she looks my way and stops when she sees me. By the time I get to the other side of the street I decide on a story, so I walk over to her and smile. Once again I couldn't help thinking of the movie when I look up at her. Like Nancy in the movie, her face is tight and quivering. She stares down at me like Nancy the Fifty Foot Woman when she is about to push over an electrical tower. I think about The Blob and wonder what it would be like to be absorbed right in the instant before the Fifty Foot Woman crushes me with her car sized hand. She would be mad at me if I disappear.

"Where have you been?". Her voice is never soft. I smile and hand her the bag. She takes it and looks inside.

"Where did you get this fruit?"

"It was a present from the teacher because I was so good today."

Her fingers twitch like they do when she is about to break off a switch from a bush. She says nothing, but she looks across the parking lot to a bush next the church door. I see the broken stub where she pulled one off last time and my legs start to hurt. Then she looks to the trailer where a fly-swatter hangs from a screw next to the door.

"What?" she says.

"It was a present from the teacher," I tell her again.

Her lips scrunch up into a frown and she blows out the sides of her mouth like Ferdinand the Bull when he is stung by the bumble bee. I don't think Walt Disney is going to help me now.

Then Mrs. Mora arrives with my sisters in her car. It was like Roy Rogers showing up on the back of Trigger, followed by Pat Brady and Nellybelle in a cloud of dust. The fifty foot woman turns away from me to get my sisters. The smell of fresh tortillas comes out of the car with my sisters and I start thinking about supper.

Mrs. Mora always brings fresh tortillas when she brings my sisters home, like she does when she comes to church on Sunday. Big, white, flour tortillas with brown spots from the skillet. My sisters smell like tortillas and tomales. The smells go away when the Fifty Foot Woman goes inside the trailer and closes the door and the babysitter drives away.

I go over to the side of the church where Nellybelle the jeep, Pat Brady, Roy Rogers, Trigger and I work on the Double R Bar ranch. Nellybelle ran well in the dusty parking lot where I made roads, hills and bridges, just like the go-cart trails on the other side of the trailer that I was not allowed to use.

It is Wednesday night, the night for Walt Disney and I am trying to decide if I want supper with fresh tortillas and tomales or if I want to pretend to be sick to get out of church so I can watch Walt Disney. If I prentend to be sick I may miss out on supper because the Fifty Foot Woman would send me to bed without eating, but then I might be able to sneak into the living room to watch Walt Disney before dad gets home from work and while the Fifty Foot Woman is still in church.

If I just walk in for supper she will yell at me for getting the fruit.

I decide to wait until she comes out and then try to convince her I was sick.

Until then, I help Roy Rogers catch some horse rustlers who are making all the ranchers in the valley scared. Nellybelle started up just fine, so Pat Brady and I are able to get to work. We are kicking up a lot of dust, just like the Catholic Mexicans in their go-carts on the other side of the trailer.

When the Fifty Foot Woman finally steps out of the trailer she looks in my direction and yells, "Matt, come in for supper and then get ready for church."

It's time to act. I think Annette Funicello would be proud of me. I walk over to the Fifty Foot Woman slowly and try to look weak and in need of rest. "I'm not feeling well, Mother," I say in the most feeble voice I can make.

"You look fine to me," she said. She doesn't believe me at all. She moves towards me from the top of the steps into the trailer and reaches for me. In spite of her Fifty Foot height I suddenly feel powerful. I feel like Annette is right there saying I can run faster than any Fifty Foot Woman.

In that instant I think I can make a run for it and turn away from her. I run in the direction of Juan's Bar. The traffic light is green. Roy Rogers would say that now is the time. If I can only reach the light I might be able to cross the street and be home free because the light will turn red and she won't be able to cross, especially if she has to come close to Juan's Bar, this is full of unsaved Mexican Catholics.

She reaches me in one giant stride and grabs the back of my shirt, lifting me up just as easily as Roy Rogers' dog Bullet picking up a rabbit with his teeth. Dangling from the monstrous hand of the Fifty Foot Woman she drags me into her lair. It was obvious I wasn't going to get any tortillas or tomales or see Disney. I was going to have to go to church and watch Mexicans get saved from Catholics. I hope the fruit man isn't going to be there.

When my dad gets home the Fifty Foot Woman and I, along with my sisters are just returning from church. She puts my sisters in bed and then tells him about the fruit. He just sits there, like he always does.

Then, he says, "I think he's telling the truth."

I have never seen the Fifty Foot Woman so angry. She was slamming cabinet doors and rattling dishes. He doesn't say anything else.

I was really glad that the fruit man wasn't at church.

"I'm tired of living like this," the Fifty Foot Woman says. "The bank is going to repossess the trailer and you don't care!"

She is saying more but I can't hear it because thunder, lightning and rain start pounding the trailer so hard that I can't hear anything else. The windows are fogging up and the parking lot of the church is starting to flood. I slide under the covers and listen to the rain, the screams of the Fifty Foot Woman slamming cabinet doors and the silence of a father who can't speak. I can just see him being crushed by the ten foot hand of the Fifty Foot Woman and I am expecting The Blob to crash through the thin metal of the trailer to absorb me at any moment.

The next morning I wake up and know that my father has already gone to work.

The rain is still falling and the parking lot is a pool of mud. I can only think of Nellybelle, Pat Brady and Roy Rogers. What a mess the ranch must be.

Then I hear a car horn blast three times right next to the trailer and the Fifty Foot Woman comes out of my sister's room with my sisters already dressed. She is also bringing out luggage and tells me to take the bags out to the car.

"Car?"

"Yes, the car," she said, "Brother Hardesty is waiting outside. Now take these bags to the car, like I just told you."

It is useless. There is nothing I can do. My dad has been crushed by the Fifty Foot Foot Woman and I am next, even though I survived the night without The Blob overtaking me. I have to act according to her will. I tried to run away but she was too big, too strong. So, I get dressed, put on my coat and grab one of the bags before I leave the trailer.

I pull the bag out of the trailer into the rain, through the water and to the car. Brother Hardesty opens the door, gets out and quickly unlocks the trunk. He lifts the bag and puts it in.

"Matt," yelled the Fifty Foot Woman from the door of the Trailer, "get the other bag."

I pull the other bag down the steps. The Fifty Foot Woman carries one of my sisters to the car while pulling the other behind her. They are getting wet in the rain and crying. "Shut up," she says. She slaps both of them hard and they continue to cry.

I don't like it when they cry.

She pushes one sister into the car and follows with the other. When the door shuts it is quiet. I can only hear the sound of rain on the metal of the trailer and the car.

Brother Hardesty gets into the drivers seat and starts the car. The head lights come on. Even though it is day the sky is dark and I can hardly see the neon sign on Juan's Bar flashing. I am happy that the Mexican Catholics still have a place to go in spite of the wrath of the Fifty Foot Woman. I can see the rain now dropping in the water covering the parking lot. It is all mud. My shoes are sticking to the wet ground but all I can think of is Nellybelle and Pat Brady. They need me to rescue them. Roy Rogers will be upset if I don't.

Brother Hardesty honks the horn three times, then he pushes the passenger door open in front. "Matt," he yells, "get inside." In the front seat I feel the car start. My sisters are crying. I don't like being in the car with the Fifty Foot Woman, especially when she just stares straight ahead, like she does when dad homes home and she clenches her jaw.

"OK," says the Fifty Foot Woman, "get us to the bus station. My brother is waiting in California."

I didn't know they had Mexicans in California that needed saving from Catholics.

 

* * *

"Hey Matt, isn't it time to come to bed?"

"OK, brother Hardesty."

"And don't forget to turn the recorder off." 

 

°The End