A Quilter's Heart
Aunt Bea comes to an understanding about her highland neighbors.
Aunt Bea set the basket down on the kitchen counter. Her freshly-made jar of pickles was carefully wrapped in a blue gingham dishtowel and resting in the bottom. Today was the opening of the Mayberry County Fair and she would be entering her pickles for judging again this year.
Andy came through the swinging door into the kitchen. "Mmhmm, Aunt Bea, that coffee smells goooood."
"Good morning, Andy," she said, pouring his coffee and setting the cup down on the table. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did. I did. But I woke up for a little while when I heard it rainin' at about 4:00 o'clock. Did I hear you closing the winders 'round about then?"
"Yes, but I laid down and went back to sleep. The rain does that you know."
"Listening to it you mean?"
"Yes, I laid there for just a while listening, then the next thing I knew, it was morning."
"Yeah boy, it's gonna be a nice day now." Andy went to the kitchen door and pushed it open. "Hey, Ope!"
A voice from upstairs called back, "Yeah, Paw?"
"You 'bout ready?"
"I'll be down Paw."
Opie came downstairs carrying the plaque he had been working on for the past few weeks. He had used his wood burning kit to create a picture of a bird on a nest in a buckeye tree. He had just finished sanding the edges last night and was cleaning off the sawdust with a tack rag when his father had called him down to breakfast.
"Looks nice, Ope. Don't it look nice Aunt Bea?"
"Let's see," she said holding it in the light so she could see it better. "Oh, my yes. Opie, you made the bird look so realistic. What is this little bump under the bird here? An egg?"
"That's one of the babies getting ready to peek out," Opie said proudly.
Aunt Bea and Andy exchanged glances. "Oh, well how nice. Here, let's put it on the counter and sit down to breakfast."
Breakfast was scrambled eggs, country ham, fried potatoes tossed with chives just snipped from the garden, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. After breakfast, while Opie helped Aunt Bea clear the table and rinse the dishes, Andy went upstairs to unlock his double-barreled over and under shotgun. He took it out to the squad car, checking it to make sure it was not loaded, and placed it in the gun holder attached to the front seat. He put the canister of ammunition in the trunk. He would be using the gun in the skeet shooting competition at the fair today. When he came back onto the porch, Opie and Aunt Bea were just coming out of the door. Andy took the basket from his aunt and offered his hand as she came down the steep back steps.
"Is Barney going to the fair?" Opie asked.
"Oh, yeah, he'll be there, he'll be there. He spent all day yesterday polishing his gun and a handful of bullets that I gave him. He's going to start the races today," Andy explained.
Andy opened the passenger door for Aunt Bea, Opie hopped into the back with his wooden plaque then Andy climbed in on the driver's side and they were off. It wasn't far to the fairgrounds but when they turned onto the dirt road, Aunt Bea said, "Let's roll up the windows, shall we? I don't want to choke on all the road dust. And look out for all those ruts."
The rain had settled most of the dust, but the sun had dried the road again. Some dust hung in the air behind them and there were mud puddles in the road ruts. Andy was used to driving on Mayberry County's unpaved back roads, but just the same, he rolled up his window once they turned onto the lane leading to the fairgrounds and neatly avoided the ruts. He pulled into a parking space in the lot and they walked over the gravel to the admission booth. Andy paid for their admission tickets and they each held out their hands to get them stamped.
Mervill Brooks, one of the high schoolers manning the gate and wielding the hand stamps said, "This year you have a choice of a kangaroo or a turtle with a derby hat. Last year it was a plaid hippo or a ballerina. We have to change it every year."
When they were inside the gate Opie turned to his father and asked, "Paw, why do they have to change the picture on the stamp every year?"
"Oh, I guess that's so you don't try to get in this year with last year's picture."
"But, wouldn't the picture wash off after a few days? How would you keep the stamp on your hand for a whole year?"
"I don't know, son," Andy said. "I guess you could not wash your hand for a whole year to save three dollars."
"Oh," Opie nodded, trying to understand that thought.
The entire compound of the county fairgrounds has eight buildings. There are four long buildings with stalls for housing animals. These have corrals in the center for judging animal-related activities like sheep shearing, cow milking and greased pig chasing. Fresh fodder and bedding had been laid down in all of the stalls and corrals just this morning. The fragrance from the dried hay and straw was all around.
The other four buildings held different types of exhibits like flower arranging, antique displays, homegrown produce, prepared food judging and hobby collections. At the end of one of them is a roped off area for the picnic basket auction. Every year people in the community volunteer to make food to stock picnic baskets and the baskets are auctioned off at 11:30 a.m., just in time for lunch. There are large fields on one side of the buildings for the outdoor contests like egg tossing and sack races, and fields on the other side which are set up for the shooting contests.
After Opie registered his plaque in the hand-craft pavilion, he wanted to see the farm animals so Andy said he would go with him. Opie said that Johnny Paul Jason entered his lop-eared rabbit, Ginger, in one of the exhibits and he wanted to see her.
Aunt Bea walked over to the vegetable pavilion to drop off her pickle jar. She stepped up to the booth to register her entry with the judge's helper, Walter Watson.
"Hello Walter, I'd like to register my pickles," Aunt Bea said.
"Well, Miss Taylor, hello," he said when he saw her. "Are you ready for the competition?"
"I hope so. I tried a new species this year. I grew a crop of Pickler's Glory in my own garden and I picked them myself."
"Well aren't you the busy beaver. Growed your own did you? Pickler's Glory. Uh-huh. That's a real good species for pickling. My mother liked it best. She said it stays firm and sweet all year round."
"Yes, they do. How is your mother these days?"
"Oh, she's fine, fine and dandy. She'll be here later to judge the gargling contest. Won it herself so often, she retired and became a judge."
"Oh, well, yes I remember. How nice," Aunt Bea replied.
"Okay then, let me just weigh your entry. Uh-huh, uh-huh. Just right on the nose," he said, looking up at the scale through the bottom of his bifocals.
"Well, do you need anything else Walter?"
"No, I logged you in and put a number on your jar. So, you're all set now. Good luck, Miss Taylor."
"Thank you Walter. Good bye."
Aunt Bea walked over to the sewing pavilion. Clara Edwards had said she would be there helping a friend who would be one of the quilt judges. Aunt Bea saw Clara there with her friend. They were wearing white gloves and bending over a table looking at some quilts.
Clara looked up and said, "Oh Bea, I'm glad you're here."
"Hello Clara. I thought I'd stop by and see the quilts."
"Bea, I want you to meet our quilt judge for this year, June Carver from Siler City. June, this is Bea Taylor. She is the aunt of our town sheriff, Andy Taylor."
"Hello June, I'm pleased to meet you."
"Hello Bea, have you entered anything into the fair this year?"
"Well, just my usual pickle entry. . ." Bea said as she caught a glimpse of Clara smiling a slightly crooked smile.
"Bea, Clara and I have been looking at some of the entries that have come in this year and it's clear that all the entrants have all worked very hard on their quilts," June said.
"We've seen such expression and such dedication on the part of everyone," Clara said.
There were an assortment of quilts on the tables, some were hanging on frames, and some were still in boxes wrapped in tissue. The designs displayed an array of colors and shapes reflecting the tastes and interests of many of Mayberry County's residents. Aunt Bea looked at the submissions and saw a wide variety of designs including nine patch quilts, double wedding ring quilts, log cabin quilts, crazy quilts, flying geese and many more. There was one quilt that was full of pickup truck appliques. Aunt Bea and Clara were looking at a large bed quilt that was appliqued all over with fish leaping out of water when June directed their attention.
"Oh ladies, just look at this one," June said while holding up the corner of a pink and white quilt with green accents.
As soon as Aunt Bea saw it she was struck by the delicate and intricate beauty of the quilt. The design seemed to draw your eyes to look everywhere to take in the complexity but at the same time, the color placement was so evenly balanced that it gave the viewer a sense of calmness.
Aunt Bea came over and June handed her a pair of white gloves. "It's a garden chain design with pink, red and salmon wild roses, variegated green leaves, appliquéd stems and intricate hand embroidered trillium and lily of the valley in the center blocks," June explained.
Aunt Bea gently stroked the surface with her white glove. "My goodness, some of the little pieces of fabric are the size of postage stamps. And the appliqué work! This would have taken forever to make."
"Oh look at the little pink rose buds. Ribbon embroidery," Clara said. "This piece has everything doesn't it?"
"This is just beautiful. I'm amazed by the hand work, the piecing, the fabric scale and color. It's all just exquisite," Aunt Bea replied.
"I think that this one has surpassed all the others that have come in. Of course we must hold our judgment until all entries are in, but I'm keeping an eye on this one for sure," June told them.
"Who submitted this one I wonder? Does it say on the tag?" Aunt Bea asked.
"Well Bea, we won't find out for a while yet. The tag attached to it is merely numbered. The corresponding log with the names of the entrants is in the county fair office and no one will find out their names until after the judgments are made and the ribbons awarded."
"Oh how exciting! We'll find out after the judging who in Mayberry County has made each of these quilts. You're going to put these away for now? Here, let me help you girls fold them."
"Thank you Bea," June said.
After helping to fold some quilts, Aunt Bea left them and went to the Antiques and Artworks pavilion. There were many displays of old furniture. She saw some bedroom sets with hobnailed bedspreads and dressers arrayed with old-fashioned accessories. She looked around for a while but then started to wonder where Andy and Opie had gotten to.
Aunt Bea met up with Andy and Opie at the Baked Goods pavilion. They looked at and admired all of the beautiful entries. The themed events this year were forest animals, and tree houses. There were cookies shaped and frosted to look like moose, frogs, deer, raccoons and the like. There were cakes shaped like tree houses, cupcakes on wire foundations shaped like trees and all kinds of creations. One clever person had assembled a treehouse out of gingerbread. It had the look of rustic boards draped with ropes and pirate flags. It had tiny Peter Pan characters made out of frosting climbing around it.
After standing and walking most of the morning, Aunt Bea wanted to sit for while so the three of them sat in the stands and watched the pie eating contest. Burley Peters was front and center with one of his mother's blueberry pies in front of him. Every year he left the contest with a blueberry stain all down his chin that made him look like he wore a blue goatee. By the time the winner was announced, Andy, Opie and Aunt Bea decided they were ready for lunch.
They went to the Food Pavilion and met up with Barney. They bid on a picnic basket that was labeled "Fried Chicken, Potato Salad, Green Beans with Piccalilli, Strawberry Shortcake, and Lemonade. Four Servings." Andy paid twelve dollars for it which was a lot for lunch for four people, but they got to keep the picnic basket and the profit was to go towards maintenance for the fairgrounds. Throughout the rest of the year when the fair was not being held, community groups like the scouts and 4H clubs would be using the grounds for their activities.
"This sure is a good lunch Andy. Thanks for treating me. You didn't have to do that y'know," Barney said.
"That's okay Barn. You're kind of working today. I figured you're representing the Sherriff's Office out there in the hot sun."
"Yeah, well. We have to get out there and mingle with the public. It's important to promote a good image from time to time. It can't be all blood and bullets, sirens and traffic stops," Barney said with an authoritative sniff.
Andy chuckled and said, "Yeah, and it doesn't hurt that some of the single ladies took notice of the good looking man in the uniform as he wields his gun so well. Didn't I see Laura Shade, the teller over at the bank, bring you some cotton candy during one of your breaks?"
"Ange, y'have to understand. Some women just have a penchant for a manly man who knows he's in charge." Barney said slapping his utility belt and setting his hat straight. "Well, I have to get going now. I'll see you all later." He motioned a friendly salute and swaggered off towards the fields.
By late afternoon, most of the judging and events had taken place. They caught a glimpse of Barney as he stood out in the field enjoying a lemonade brought to him by Cindy Collins, the lady who worked at the bookstore. Opie's wood-burned plaque entry won honorable mention in the Craft and Hobby: Wood Burning and Glued Assembly Division. Some projects on display in the wood turning division caught Opie's interest.
"Paw, could we get a wood-turning lathe?"
"Well Opie, lathes are expensive. What would you use a lathe for?"
"I could make craft items like spindles and lamp bases. Things like that."
"Oh, you saw some in the exhibits did you?"
"Yeah, I saw a really nice pipe rack with turned spindles. There was one that had a piece of wood with a hole in it to store pipe cleaners and a place to hold a piece of sandpaper to strike your matches."
"That sounds mighty useful, Son."
"Yeah, can we get one?"
"Well, I'll have to look into that. Maybe we can borrow one from somebody first to see if you like it."
"All right Paw."
Andy placed in the top five for skeet shooting, which was good since about 60 people had registered for the event and of those 60 about 12 of the entrants were fellow peace officers who worked for the county in other towns nearby. Karen Moore had won the big trophy again this year and Andy was happy to congratulate her. She was far and away the best skeet shooter in the county and probably most surrounding counties as well.
"Howdy Karen, congratulations on your win this year."
"Well hello Andy. I see you did pretty well yourself."
"Oh but not as you good as you did. I declare, I'll have to come by when you're practicing and take some lessons from you."
"Andy, any time you'd like to visit, just give us a call. Ray and I will put some steaks on the grill and we can have us a time while we practice on our range out on the back of our property. Bring Helen too, I'm sure she'd enjoy herself too."
Karen had married Ray Ferguson about a year ago and the two of them had bought some land and built a home. Andy recalled that Barney had teased him about letting Karen get away to marry someone else, but Andy was happy to see Karen and Ray had made such a happy couple.
Over at the vegetable pavilion, Clara's pickles had won the blue ribbon. When the judges placed the ribbon on her jar, the crowd applauded and Clara wiped her eyes with her hankie. Thirteen years. Clara would have thirteen blue ribbons in her scrapbook. Aunt Bea was disappointed that her pickles had not even placed, but she was happy her friend had won. "Maybe I should try canning wax beans next year. There's not as stiff a completion for that category," Aunt Bea thought to herself.
When Aunt Bea went back to the sewing pavilion, she learned that all of the quilts that had been registered for judging had been appraised. The judges made their selections of honorable mentions, second and third place winners. The Best of Show award went to Aunt Bea's and Clara's favorite, the garden chain design.
Aunt Bea saw Clara and June and as she went up to them she saw that they had looks of concern on their faces. Clara told Aunt Bea that when they went to the fairgrounds office to look up the names of the quilt owners in the log book, the log book with the names was nowhere to be found.
"Theresa Watson, the lady in charge of the fairgrounds office, told us that she had it when she was walking back to the office. She intended to put it in a file drawer and lock it up, but a couple of entrants stopped her on her way there. They wanted her to help them move a 40-pound zucchini that was going to be in the largest vegetable contest. That's when Theresa thinks she put the book on the bed of one of the trucks that was parked behind the building while she moved the zucchini. She just set the book down for a moment, but then the truck drove away and she doesn't know who owns the truck."
"Oh dear, what are you going to do?" Aunt Bea asked.
"Some of the entrants are still here at the fair," said June, "so we've already had some people come forward but some people dropped their quilts off earlier in the week. They might not come back until it's time to pick the quilts up next weekend on the last day of the fair. We need to have confirmation of ownership before anyone can remove their quilts from the fairgrounds."
"We'll put a notice up on the announcement board here at the fair and publish one in the Mayberry Gazette and in the Mayberry County Circular for the entrants to come in to identify their quilts," Clara said.
"But how will you know for sure that everyone is claiming the proper quilt?" Aunt Bea asked.
"Most people will have leftover scraps from their quilts, so we will ask everyone to bring in some of the leftover material that they trimmed from their quilt to prove ownership," June replied.
"Also, I'm going to help June contact some of the entrants who dropped off their quilts earlier in the week and did not come to the fair today. We can partly rely on the memory of Miss Watson, but she says so much was going on last week that she doesn't remember who all brought what. Now Bea, I was wondering. Would you consider doing us a favor?"
"Well, if I can. What is it?"
"Well Theresa was trying to remember some of the names of the quilters who submitted quilts and she said did she remember one of the names was Charlene Darling. She said that name struck her because it sounded so, well, unique. I know that she and her family live way back in the hills."
"Yes? And?"
"Well, June and I would probably have a hard time finding them, but I'm sure that your nephew knows where they live. I was wondering if you could ask him to drive you to their home so you could ask Charlene to confirm which quilt she submitted."
"Well of course Clara. I'll ask him."
Andy agreed to drive Aunt Bea up to the Darling's cabin. He said he had some sheriffing business to attend to on Monday over in Duncan and the road to their cabin would be on the way. "But," he said, "I can only drop you off. I can't stay at all. I have to attend a meeting, but I will pick you up when I'm done in Duncan. Maybe you can sit and visit with them for a while. I'm sure it will be fine with them."
The next day was Sunday and after a nice mid-day dinner Andy and Opie offered to wash the dishes so Aunt Bea could enjoy her Sabbath rest. Aunt Bea was delighted that she could sit on the front porch embroidering a dresser scarf she was going to donate to the church raffle. As she stitched, she started thinking about her pending trip into the mountains to visit the Darlings. "Briscoe was so upset a few months back when we had that misunderstanding and he insisted on courting me. I hope he doesn't think I'm going all that way just to see him," she thought to herself. Then she remembered the shivaree Briscoe had staged under her window. "Oh dear. I hope the neighbors forgot about that," Aunt Bea murmured.
"What's that Aunt Bea?" Andy said as he came onto the porch.
"Oh, nothing," Aunt Bea said. "Just counting my stitches."
"Sure is a nice day. Nice sermon this morning, nice meal afterwards. Pretty soon I'll have me a nice nap I reckon," Andy said as he sighed and eased himself on down into a chair.
"Andy, I was thinking, are you still going to be able to drive me tomorrow?"
"Up to the Darlings' cabin you mean?"
"Yes, are you sure it's not too much trouble?"
"No, not a bit. I'll swing by our house at about 11:00 and if you're ready we can just take off. You'll get there just before noon and I'll get to Duncan in time for my meeting."
"Hmmm," Aunt Bea said pensively.
"What? You thinking about not going now?"
"Well, I'm not sure. I'm having some misgivings. I mean it will be an unannounced visit, we don't know if they'll be home, and . . ." she paused to swallow. What she had a hard time admitting to herself was she felt uncomfortable visiting the Darlings. It was easy to explain why, or at least come up with some reasons why, which she had just done.
"Okay, Aunt Bea, okay. You just spend some time thinking about what you want to do and tell me in the morning before I leave for the courthouse," Andy said as he reached for a section of the Sunday comics and draped it over his face. "I'm gonna read this here newspaper with my nose for a while. You might hear some snoring coming from behind it."
With Andy asleep, Aunt Bea was able to think about it some more. It wasn't that the Darlings' untidy surroundings intimidated her, well, maybe they did, but it was something else. It was the way they came across. They could bowl a person over sometimes with their personalities. They had a way about them that was too much for Aunt Bea to handle. But, she reasoned again, she had already told Clara that she would run that errand to see about the quilt. So, maybe she could go . . . but wait, how about the time they hollered "Taters!" at her dinner table? Wasn't that an uncomfortable situation? Aunt Bea rocked and thought, weighing her discomfort and her ability to handle it all. "All this over a quilt identification," Bea thought to herself. "Hmm, I wonder if Charlene submitted the quilt with the pickup trucks?" Well, she finally decided, there's nothing for it. She would just have to go and take care of what she agreed to do and then come home and tell Clara she had gone like she said she would.
The next day, Andy drove Aunt Bea into the mountains up to the Darling's cabin. When she got out of the car, Andy waited to make sure someone was home and when Briscoe came to the door of the cabin, he pulled around and drove off to his appointment in Duncan. Briscoe was just coming out to sit on the porch and he invited Aunt Bea to sit also.
"Yes sir, set down a spell. There ya' go. Take that rocker," Briscoe said pointing to a twig willow rocker with some soft looking cushions. "I reckon that you don't get a chance to set much, you takin' care of yer nephew and his son and all."
"Thank you Briscoe," Aunt Bea said. She sighed as she looked out from her seat on the porch and took in the scene. The woods were deep and green. Birds flitted in and out of the understory branches. She saw some yellow warbles quietly hopping in the tree branches picking little bugs off of the leaves. It was quiet out here. No traffic, just the wind, the leaves, insects, the birds.
Briscoe sat quietly rocking. He was not in a hurry to talk and the silence did not bother him.
After a few moments of sitting comfortably and having taken a few long breaths, Aunt Bea decided to speak up. "Mr. Darling, I've come to ask Charlene a question about some sewing."
"Ho, yeah. That girl can sew. Cook too. She purt' near made all our clothes and cooked our vittles since she was at the age of marryin'."
"Oh? What age was that?" Aunt Bea asked.
"Mmmm, twelve or so. She was pledged to Dud Wash then but we didn't want to marry her off just yet. She still had a lot of tree climbin' and pig chasin' to do back then and she had to get it outen her system 'fore we could present her to Dud all lady-like, y'might say. They's getting' hitched soon as he's back from the Army."
Aunt Bea pictured a sweet, sunny-haired girl with long braids coming out onto the porch to call her father and brothers to a supper that she had made with her own hands. The thought of a young girl working so hard to run a household alone and having these five men to look after made Aunt Bea have to swallow back a lump in her throat, but just then. . .
BLAM!
Aunt Bea jumped and caught her breath.
"Hee-hee!" Briscoe laughed. "She got 'im!"
When Aunt Bea could form a thought in her head again after the shock, she said, "What was …"
"Charlene! Y'got that possum you was stalkin' I knew you'd get 'im!"
After a lot of rustling of leaves and stick crunching, Charlene came into the clearing carrying her shotgun crooked open. She was holding up a large gray furry creature by its tail.
"Shore did Paw. I'll just put him. . . Oh, well Miss Bea! Paw didn't tell me we have comp'ny. Howdy to ya."
"Hello Charlene. Your father and I were just passing the time here while I was waiting for you."
"You're here to see me? Well, let me just put these away and I'll be out directly."
Charlene went into the cabin and came back out to the porch in a few moments. She had a tray with three jelly jar glasses and a plate with a clean cloth over it. She held the tray for Aunt Bea to take a glass and then she put the tray on the small table next to Aunt Bea's chair and lifted the cloth covering the plate. Aunt Bea saw that there were soft brown cookies on the plate and she took one.
The glasses had some brown liquid in them. While Charlene turned to offer a glass to her father, Aunt Bea taste-tested what was in her glass. "Mmm, this is good Charlene. What is it?"
"Sassafras tea. I make a batch every few days and keep it in the coolin' crock. Try yer cookie. They's my Mama's special recipe, but sometimes when I make 'em, I add a little something. The boys they never notice the difference. They just bring the jar out onto the porch after their afternoon naps and all them cookies will gone in a short while."
Aunt Bea tasted her cookie and was pleased with the spicy taste. She thought she detected a hint of molasses but the rest of the spices eluded her. The inside was soft and a little chewy, but the outside had the slightest bit of a crunch.
Aunt Bea said, "Charlene, this cookie is so good. What do you call them?"
"I just call em Ma's Cookies."
Briscoe got up, excused himself and headed off into the woods. "I'm sure you ladies have some jawin' to do. I'll just go and see what's keepin' the boys." They watched as he walked across the clearing. His boots made a crunching noise as he parted the understory plants and pushed through the thicket.
Aunt Bea took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and asked, "Yes, I was wondering, where are your brothers?"
"The boys, they got some secret places out in the woods where they harvest wilds."
"Wilds?"
"Yes'm," Charlene said. "They find ginger root, sassafras, horehound, 'sang – that's what some folks call ginseng, and in the spring they bring in bushels of ramps."
Aunt Bea thought about the pungent garlicky-oniony aromas she smelled coming from some neighborhood kitchens in the spring as her neighbors cooked allium tricoccum or wild leeks also known as ramps.
"Them's all powerful wilds that we use fer doctorin', cookin', and makin' spells. Folks come from two mountains over to trade with us for our 'sang."
Aunt Bea blushed when she remembered that ginseng tea was used by neglected wives to pep up their apathetic husbands. When her blush cleared, she spoke up, "Charlene, I want to tell you that the reason I've come is . . ."
But she was interrupted by Briscoe who came out of the clearing and said, "Oh, but before you speak yore piece, you'll stay to break bread with us won't you? We'll be settin' down to vittles directly."
Aunt Bea wanted to be polite to these folks who were so open and hospitable. They were happy to greet her as a visitor and share their food with her at a moment's notice. She could smell the food that must have been keeping warm in the niche by the fireplace all this time and her stomach told her that she should be pausing for something to eat. Andy would not be back for a while so, yes, she would stay a while and have some lunch with the Darlings.
The boys came out of the woods following their father. They had baskets of greens and berries and burlap totes bristling with roots and pine cones. One of them was carrying a gun in the crook of his elbow and a couple of recently harvested squirrels. They came up and put their foraged things on the farther end of the porch.
Charlene said, "Boys, you remember Miss Bea? She's here to visit a spell." The boys, nodded each in turn, one of them tipped his hat, one took his hat off and smoothed his hair forward for lack of any other response and then placed it back on his head. Smelling the food and following their noses, they walked awkwardly into the house.
Briscoe held the door for Aunt Bea as she walked into the cabin's main room which served as the living room, dining room and bedroom for Briscoe and the boys. There was a curtained doorway off the main room and Aunt Bea assumed that Charlene's bedroom was in the small addition at the back of the cabin.
There were benches at the side of the roughhewn supper table and Aunt Bea started towards a place setting but then she was directed to a slightly more comfortable looking chair at the side of the table.
Charlene put a heavy platter on the table, sat down and folded her hands in her lap. Then Briscoe took off his hat, laid it on the corner of the table, brushed his hair forward with his hands and cleared his throat. At this, all hands stopped reaching, and heads were bowed. Briscoe spoke the simple prayer, "Dear Lord, for this fine food to bless and nourish us, we are eternally grateful." There was a gruff "Amen," around the table and hands once again started reaching for steaming potatoes, squash, greens and some thick slices of dark meat. A hearty loaf was sawn with a knife, slathered with homemade butter and a piece appeared on the edge of Aunt Bea's plate without her requesting it.
Even though there was little to no conversation, there was a general din of knives and forks on plates, serving platters being set down, chin scratching, foot shuffling and chewing that sounded more like gomphing. Three dogs loped in through the open door, scuttled around the under the table and dove for the occasional tossed scrap. Aunt Bea felt one of them step on her toes and another dog lean against her leg. Aunt Bea peeked under the table and saw it was a Carolina Dog that had just become her friend.
"Git! Now git Sandy, and leave Miss Bea alone," Charlene said.
"Oh she's not bothering me. Are you? Sandy is it?" Aunt Bea said and smiled down into the warm brown eyes looking into hers. However, Aunt Bea made a point of not dropping anything. The dogs moved on as one of the Darling boys clicked his tongue and got up to place some food into their bowls over to the side of the room.
After everyone was done, Briscoe spoke up to tell the boys to clear up the table, "And don't put them plates down fer the dogs to lick. That's why they come round us at dinner time. Stack em up in the washin' bin so's Charlene can wash 'em after while."
Aunt Bea wanted to offer to help wash up the dishes, but it looked like Briscoe and the boys were already settling into the sways of the furniture to take their naps. Some snoring had already started so Charlene invited Aunt Bea back onto the porch so they could talk. Before she sat down, Aunt Bea picked up another cookie from the covered plate. She had just enough room for this small desert after the hearty dinner.
All was quiet expect for the crickets in the underbrush by the porch and then a barred owl started calling some distance away.
"Can you hear that ol'hooty owl out there somewheres?" Charlene asked. "He's standin' in a tree and askin' 'Whoooo? Who cooks for you all?'"
When he stopped hooting, Aunt Bea spoke up, "Charlene, tell me about living out here. What's it like?"
"Mam?"
"I mean, do you miss your Ma? And having other women folk around? Do you ever wish you could live in a town and, oh, I don't know, have a different kind of a life?"
"Paw and the boys, they're m'family. They care for me ever much as I care for them. Ever since Maw died. Yeah, I've missed her. Sometimes I still cry when I think about her."
Aunt Bea patted Charlene's hand but didn't know what to say. Just then, a wood thrush started to call from high in the trees and she paused so they could listen to the beautiful, flute-like notes that echoed far into the hollows.
They listened to a few calls then Charlene spoke in a whispered, sing-song voice, "He's sayin' 'I'm over here now. Where are you? Are you over there now? Come see me.'"
After a listening for another few minutes, the bird was silent and Charlene spoke again about her mother. "I learned so much from my Maw while she was here with us. She showed me how to sew, how to fix meals. Sometimes when I was feeling sad, she would take me for a walk in the woods round about here. We used to look for tiny red salamanders under the leaf mulch. Seeing them under there looking so pretty, it's hard not to cheer up when you see them run away from the sunlight. I know Maw's in heaven because she loved the Lord and she talked to Jesus all the time. So I just carry on here and enjoy the blessings that she passed on to me."
"What a wonderful way to look at life," Aunt Bea said.
They heard a car approaching and soon Andy drove up in the squad car. He parked, got out, walked to the porch and said "Hello Charlene. How are you?"
Charlene came down the steps and stood looking up at Andy. "Huddy, Sheriff. My, my, my, ain't you still tall?" Then she glanced over at Aunt Bea and smiled. "You have a handsome nephew Miss Bea."
"Uh, well, yuh-huh" Andy murmured, embarrassed. "Uh, Opie'll be walkin' back from school pretty soon," Andy told her. "Me and Aunt Bea will have to be gettin' back to town. Isn't that right Aunt Bea? I'm sorry we won't have time to sit and visit with you and your Paw, Charlene."
"Oh, that's alright. He'll understand Sherriff," Charlene said while batting her lashes.
"Charlene," Aunt Bea asked, "before I go, I have to ask you, did you enter a quilt this year in the county fair?"
"Oh, yes Mam, I did. Paw drove me up to drop it off there on Friday afternoon. I'm supposed to pick it up in a week when the fair closes. Did you get a chance to see it?"
"Well, there was a slight mix up in the fairgrounds office and they don't know who dropped off what. They want to match leftover scraps with the quilts to find the owners and I was wondering, do you still have some of the scraps that you used to create your quilt?"
"Yes, I do. Point of fact, I made some pot holders out of them scraps. I'll get one to show you."
While she was gone in the cabin, Bea stood up and said to Andy, "We can go as soon as I have a fabric sample. Briscoe and the boys are napping so we shouldn't disturb them by going in."
When Charlene came out, she had a paper bag and handed it to Aunt Bea. "I wrapped up some of Ma's cookies and put them in there next to the pot holder," she said.
"Thank you Charlene. And, thank you ever so much for a wonderful meal."
"Aw, t'wernt nothin' but, we was glad you could join us."
"Say goodbye to your Pa and your brothers for me."
"I will Miss Bea. Bye Sherriff."
"Bye Charlene."
Andy drove back down to town and when he came to the tight turns in the road, Aunt Bea held onto the car door handle. Some of the roads in these hills were steep and they narrowed down to one lane in some spots. There was always a chance that another vehicle would be coming around the curve and one or the other of them would have to back up a ways in order to let the other vehicle pass. Although the views were beautiful, some of the hairpin turns could be a bit unnerving.
Andy teased her a bit, "Come on Aunt Bea, you've flown solo and got your pilot's license. Surely you can overcome a few tight turns on these high roads."
"Never you mind. I'll look out and enjoy the beautiful scenery, but I'm going to hold on right here, thank you."
When they got home, Aunt Bea put the bag on the table and went out to the yard to bring in some tomatoes from the garden. She wanted to slice some for supper and thought they could cool off from the hot sun if she brought them into the house now.
Opie was looking in the refrigerator when she got into the house.
"Hi Aunt Bea," he said. "I'm just getting some milk for my cookies."
"Oh Opie, I'm glad you're home. How was school?"
"It was fine. What's in the bag?"
"I have some nice cookies you might like for your snack," Aunt Bea said as she opened the bag. She unwrapped two cookies from the waxed paper and put them on a plate in front of Opie."
Then she reached her hand in and brought out the potholder. "Now, Opie just have . . ."
"Just have what Aunt Bea?"
"My goodness," she said looking at the potholder in her hand. "It was Charlene's quilt."
Opie waited briefly and then said, "I'll just have these two cookies Aunt Bea."
"Hmmm? Oh, alright Opie. Excuse me now, I have to make a phone call," Aunt Bea said as she went over to the wall phone and picked up the earpiece. "Sara, ring Clara Edwards for me please. Thank you. Hmmm? Oh, we're fine. We're all fine."
While she waited, she thought about what she would say to Clara about the quilt pieces she held in her hands.
"Clara, I have some news for you," Aunt Bea said. "I found the person who created the quilt that won first prize at the county fair."
Aunt Bea explained to Clara that she had gone to visit the Darlings and how she came by the scraps of the beautiful prize-winning quilt. They agreed to meet the next day at Clara's for lunch to discuss plans for the official awarding of first prize.
After dinner, Aunt Bea and Andy moved out to the porch with their coffee. The fireflies were making lazy circles over the lawns. Aunt Bea sat down on the wicker rocker and put her cup on the side table. Andy sat on the closer end of the glider so they could talk.
"Good supper Aunt Bea."
"Thank you Andy. I'm finally figuring out how to tenderize that tough meat I've got stored in the freezer."
"Oh, you mean the meat you bought from Diamond Jim's Butcher Shop?"
"Yes. I defrost it, then I pound it all over, then I cook it in the roaster for three hours, then I slice it very thin and put gravy over it."
"Well it sure was good Aunt Bea," Andy said, hiding the fact he was pulling a few meat strings from this teeth.
"Andy, I'm glad you were able to take me to visit the Darlings today. I must say, I was a bit intimidated going over there at first."
"Yeah, it can be unsettling to get anywise close to them," Andy said, nodding.
"Yes, that's it exactly." Aunt Bea said. "But you've worked with people in difficult situations, so you're more accustomed to . . . "
"Oh, now, don't give me too much credit. Each person and each family is different. Sometimes it's not easy for me Aunt Bea."
"I know Andy. I know. But, you seem to have a sense of how to handle difficult situations when it comes to these people. While I was there, I got a glimpse of their home life that I did not have before."
"Yeah, they's good people for the most part. A few of 'em like to cause a ruckus now and again, what with moonshinin', rock thowin', feudin' and all. But, if you looked far and wide, you couldn't find a more generous, kind-hearted folk. They hear tell that you got a ailin' and they'll leave a crock of possum grease mixed with turpentine next to your back door."
"Whatever for?" Aunt Bea asked.
"For you to rub on your chest."
"Andy! That'd take your skin off!"
"Would not. They do it up there in the hills all the time. Cleans up your boots real good too."
"Oh, you…" She chuckled and looked back at him as he chuckled back.
Then she sighed. "Andy, I was so wrong." She rocked a bit then stopped. "You sensed that didn't you?"
"Yes'm."
"And you didn't say anything because you knew I'd find out for myself."
Andy cleared his throat. "So, what'd you find out?"
"Well, that …" she stopped and then started again. "Well, like I heard Mr. Darling say one time, 'they's just folks, just like you and me.'"
"They are that. They are that." Andy smiled and picked up his guitar. "Now that you said your piece and all, what say I scrub one off?"
"It's getting kind of late, I mean, look at the time. Don't you think . . ."
"Well, to quote our friend Mr. Darling again, 'Got time t'breathe; got time fer music,'" Andy said strumming the beginning notes of Dooley.
"Well, Dooley was a good ol' man he lived below the mill. Dooley had two daughters and a forty gallon still ...," Andy sang and Aunt Bea joined in where she remembered the lines.