Author's note - This story was inspired by the Trace Adkins song The Stubborn One. The words to the song are included at the end for anyone who doesn't know the song.
As always, I don't own anything except Jessica.
"I know they say smoking ain't allowed in here, but I don't care. I brought you your favorite cigar," Jessica smiled at the figure in the chair as she carefully unwrapped the tobacco filled cylinder and offered it to him. "There, that's better, ain't it?" She leaned over to kiss his bald head as he placed the cigar in his mouth. He hadn't actually smoked in about two years, but he always kept a cigar with him - and he just didn't look right without it.
Settling in the chair across from him, she reached to take his hand. She hated seeing her Uncle Jefferson like this. He had always seemed so sure of himself - always plotting and scheming. Even if he was caught off guard by something, he always recovered quickly, and, generally, came out smelling like a rose - even if he occasionally had to buy his way out of trouble with a large donation to charity. There was no donation large enough to get him out of this, though. Cancer didn't care how much money you had or what your latest scheme was. It just came in, did its job, and left your friends and family with nothing but memories.
He almost didn't even look like Uncle Jefferson anymore. The round body that had once filled out custom made white three-piece suits was now replaced with sallow skin hanging from an emaciated form covered by a pale blue hospital gown. Even the bright, mischievous eyes that had always danced and sparked at the first inkling of dollar signs had turned dull. He almost looked lost, like he had no idea why he was here or why she should be here with him. As the disease that had started in his lungs worked its way through his system, now eating away at his brain, he seemed to forget more and more. For a while, until he had finally lost his ability to speak, he had even called her by her mother's name from time to time - demanding to know why she wasn't at the Boar's Nest where she belonged and what her "no account cousins" had done now and, even, didn't they realize that kidnapping him would definitely break their probation. Those times had been hard, trying to explain to him that she wasn't Daisy, her mother was taking care of things at the Boar's Nest, and her uncles had not only not kidnapped him, but were no longer even on probation.
Uncle Jefferson would, many times in those days, get himself more and more upset until a nurse would have to come in and give him something to make him sleep. They were always sympathetic with her, but Jessica would end up leaving in tears after those visits, convinced that she was doing more harm than good and shouldn't put him through it again.
A few days later, she would call or go by to check on Aunt Lulu, only to be told that her great uncle was asking about her and really missed her. Then she would hurry over as quickly as possible, hoping to catch him on a good day. If she was lucky, he would greet her with the same smile he had always used to try to get out of trouble with Aunt Lulu. He would force his thin voice to boom as much as possible in the hope of hiding his pain from her and making everything seem as normal as he could.
She always played along with him - pretending not to notice when he had to take a quick breath of the oxygen by the bed, or lost the thread of the conversation, or called her by the wrong name. Those were relatively good times - filled with stories from his youth running shine with Grandpa Jesse, growing up with his brothers - including her Grandpa James - and all the things her mother and uncles used to do to him as they grew up. She would leave him laughing at his memories, promising to bring her parents with her soon. She always visited him alone, though, afraid that they would be too upset by his bad days. They visited him, too, of course, sometimes bringing Grandpa Jesse with them, but she still had the feeling that she was protecting them from it all.
Right now, she would have gladly taken even one of those bad days over this. At least then she knew what was going through his mind. Now, he might as well be on the other side of the moon. She felt tears prickle behind her eyes. It was time to take her mind off of all this and make the most of the time they had. Momma always told her, "Just talk to him, sugar. Tell him about his friends or things you remember doing with him - whatever you feel like. Just because he can't answer you don't mean he don't hear you, no matter what them silly nurses say! It makes him feel better to be talked to 'stead of talked at for a change, I'm sure."
Forcing a bright smile, Jessica started talking about the first thing that popped into her head, "I ran into Uncle Rosco and Uncle Enos today. I almost really did run into them. They were up at speed trap number three - Uncle Rosco still keeps them all going, just like you told him to - and Uncle Rosco just came flying out in front of me. Of course, he blamed Uncle Enos for the whole thing - said he was pushed and it had to be Uncle Enos's fault! He still calls Uncle Enos and Cletus dipsticks, just like always, and everything is still their fault. If he can't blame something on them, he blames it on Uncle Bo and Uncle Luke." Her words trailed off there as she forced a small fake laugh to cover the lump in her throat that kept trying to come out as a sob. She could so easily picture Uncle Jefferson sitting behind his desk in the courthouse or his barber chair at the Boar's Nest, barking orders into the CB, calling Uncle Rosco "dipstick," and trying to figure out a way to get Uncle Bo and Uncle Luke thrown into jail for his latest scheme. No matter which office he was in, there would be a thick cloud of cigar smoke circling his Stetson hat, and enough food to keep a medium size army going for a couple of days covering the desk in front o f him. He tended to eat the most disgusting things, too. If she saw him in the morning, his breath would smell of coffee and raw liver. In the afternoons, it would be chitlin pizza, hog jowls, or pig's feet. She could never understand how he could eat such things. The only normal meal he ate was at night with Aunt Lulu. Then he would eat a couple of chickens and several full pans of vegetables - complaining the whole time about what a lousy cook Aunt Lulu was. Jessica had always assumed that he put down Aunt Lulu's cooking because she refused to fix most of his "favorite foods." Aunt Lulu had told him one day that, if he wanted chitlins at home, he could go out in the backyard and fix them himself - he wasn't stinking her house up with that kind of stuff!
Thinking about Uncle Jefferson's appetites now made Jessica sad. He had always loved food. Actually, he loved pretty much everything in excess - food, cigars, money. Now, his throat was so badly messed up and his stomach so sensitive that he hadn't actually eaten or drank anything in months. Everything was put directly into a tube in his stomach. That cigar was probably the first thing that had been in his mouth since her last visit.
Jessica gave herself a small shake, realizing that she had been sitting there for five minutes, dwelling on all the things her great-uncle had lost. She needed to focus on what he did have - like memories that were locked somewhere in the treasure chest of his mind. Maybe she could hit on the right one and get a reaction out of him.
"I was thinking about something the other day. Do you remember my tenth birthday? I had the biggest crush on one of the Braves players. I can't even remember his name, now. All I wanted was posters and pictures of him, but that wasn't good enough for your 'little pudding.'
"I remember sitting in math class, working on multiplication tables, when you came in. Before I knew what was happening, you had charmed the teacher into letting me leave with you and still get credit for the whole day," she shook her head, laughing for real at the memory. "I guess you got Great-Granddaddy Hogg's gift - nobody else could've got Miss Cooper to let me go without a fight - not even Momma or Daddy!
"You had decided that you could do better than just a poster or a picture - you had Alex drive us to Atlanta to watch the Braves practice. I even got an autographed baseball and my picture made with the whole team and one with just that one player! I've still got all of that - Uncle Luke made me a shadow box for Christmas that year, so I could show them off. I never did figure out how you managed all of that. Grandpa Jesse told Momma one time that I was the only one he had ever seen that you didn't mind spending money on - I guess he figured that you bought our way in," she stopped speaking for a moment, thinking about the way her great-uncle had laughed when she begged him to come pose with her for the picture with the team. Suddenly, she realized that something was different - Uncle Jefferson's mouth was working, and his eyes had a slight sparkle in them. After a second, she realized what he was trying to say, and she had to laugh.
"Yes, sir, Momma was really mad about it! When we first got back, I thought she was gonna take me out to the barn for sure. It took Daddy and Grandpa Jesse both to get her to calm down, finally. You told her three times that it was your fault, not mine, before she even realized you were there. For a minute, I didn't think she was gonna let you stay for the birthday cake - 'course, with her and Aunt Lulu yelling at you like that, I wasn't sure you would want to!
"I don't know how Uncle Bo, Uncle Luke, and Uncle Cooter knew we were back. I guess Grandpa Jesse must have called them when he went inside. If they hadn't gotten there with that cake when they did, there ain't no telling when Momma would've stopped fussing.
"When she took me to school the next morning, she went in and had a long talk with Miss Cooper, too. The only part of it I caught was not letting her know when I left school and the office not knowing where I was, either. I had thought she had calmed down over night, but she really let that poor woman have it!"
Her uncle was still smiling and shaking his head slightly when the nurse knocked on his door. "Supper time Mr. Hogg!" she called brightly as she stepped in. She smiled at Jessica before adding, "Well you look happy today! Where did you get that nasty thing in your mouth, though?"
"Doc said it was okay, as long as it wasn't cut or lit. It makes Uncle Jefferson feel better," Jessica had to fight not to sound defensive - she knew that the woman was just doing her job. Not so long ago, Uncle Jefferson would have had a fit and threatened to have that poor nurse fired for asking that question, but, today, the smile just left his face, and he went back to the blank stare. That, more than anything else, told Jessica that it was time to leave before she said something that she shouldn't. She knew that her beloved great-uncle was being well taken care of, but he would just stare at her, or, worse, get upset if she stayed.
She stood up and placed another kiss on his head as she reached to take the cigar. "I had better be heading for home, now, Uncle Jefferson. If I'm late, Momma will be mad. I'll be back tomorrow." She carefully rewrapped the cigar and stuck it in her purse before slipping out the door, hearing the nurse help him back into bed as the door closed.
The next day, she entered the room with a bright smile, kissing Uncle Jefferson's head as she offered him the cigar again. Today, though, he didn't take it. There seemed to be no life at all behind his eyes. 'Well, it worked yesterday - let's try it again,' she thought, taking his unresisting hand as she sat down.
"I would've been here sooner, Uncle Jefferson, but Uncle Cooter called, so I had to talk to him for a minute before I left. He don't get much chance to just call and talk no more, you know. I still can't get over him being a congressman! Uncle Luke says he's come a long way since that time he stole Limo one to go joyriding.
"Uncle Cooter denies it, of course - he don't want people thinking he might be maturing or nothing. He says that security has got so much tighter that he figured the only way he was gonna get another ride in that limo was to be invited!" she laughed, glancing quickly at his eyes, but they were still staring at nothing. Obviously, Uncle Cooter wasn't the topic she needed today. "Anyhow, he said to tell you hey and that he would stop by next time he got down this way." 'What else might work?' she wondered
"Oh! Momma said to tell you that everything is going just fine at the Boar's Nest. She and Aunt Lulu finished up redoing your office like you told her to. It looks terrific, but, to tell you the truth, I miss the way it used to look. Your pool table and barber chair are still in there - Momma said it wouldn't look right without the barber chair, and Aunt Lulu thought Momma might like to play a little pool sometimes, so she didn't take the table. Besides, Aunt Lulu never could play a decent game of pool. Every other shot, she either puts the cue ball in a pocket or jumps it clean off the table!" She shook her head, smiling at the memory of her great-aunt trying to line up a simple shot. Aunt Lulu would lean over repeatedly and sight down the cue, moving all around the table, with the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips, then break down in a fit of giggles when the cue ball ended up across the room in the trash can, "She's almost as bad as Uncle Rosco! Oh well, at least they have fun, I guess.
"The office is a lot brighter than it used to be, that's for sure. Aunt Lulu took your fish and all of your pictures and stuff home. Momma's put up a couple of new pictures, but it still seems like the walls are awfully bare. She put in a smaller desk where yours was, since Aunt Lulu took yours to put in the study when she finishes redecorating it. They put a real pretty blue paper on the top half of the walls and painted the wood on the bottom a cream color that matches the new curtains.
"I can't just go in there and relax like I used to, though. I guess I'll get used to it, but, right now, it's kind of a shock to find everything so different. I expect it to be the same office where I used to curl up in your lap while you read Jack and the Beanstalk to me and Uncle Rosco," she laughed again, "I used to think Uncle Rosco just played along to make me laugh. It took years before I realized that he really did want you to read it to him, too. Of course, I always loved to hear you read to me, so I kind of understood how he felt. I guess, in a lot of ways, he's really just a big kid. Maybe that's part of the reason I used to love to play with him so much.
" I've wondered a few times how many of your plans might have worked if not for him, though. I mean, I know that Momma and my uncles kept a lot of them from happening, but Uncle Rosco messed up quite a bit. If he had managed to catch Uncle Bo and Uncle Luke, or keep them when he did, they wouldn't have been able to stop you near as easy! Of course, I think Grandpa Jesse may be right, too - sometimes you didn't really want to succeed with your plans. With some of it, you just had a reputation to maintain."
Jessica swallowed hard, realizing that she had drifted out of her personal list of "safe" topics. She had decided a long time ago that there were some things she just wouldn't discuss with Uncle Jefferson - and the top two were his money-making schemes and how her parents met. She had always figured that those topics would upset her great-uncle too much. Of course, he didn't seem upset right now - in fact, he still didn't seem to realize that she was there even.
She sat for a moment, just holding his hand and trying to think of something else to talk about. She had never been good at one-sided conversations - always figuring that she was probably boring the other person to tears. She couldn't even stand to write letters. Her father always joked that he was glad he had finished his time in prison right after she had learned to write - otherwise her mother would've had to hold a gun to her head to get her to write to him. Her eyes roamed the small room, hoping to find something of interest, finally landing on the window.
Standing, she moved over to stare out at the pecan tree that nearly touched the glass. A pair of squirrels played chase through the branches, scolding loudly. She smiled as she watched them race all the way to the ground, then back to the top.
"Remember that painting Aunt Lulu had Mr. Bender do of us, Uncle Jefferson? Momma is thinking about getting him to copy it to go in the office now that the decorating is finished. She says that the spot over the desk needs something and that would be perfect," Jessica turned slightly so that she could watch him and the squirrels at the same time, "I think she just likes it because it isn't real formal - and it has some colors that go well with the new look.
"Mr. Bender did a real good job matching the sky and that tree. You can even see that squirrel that kept throwing pecans at us!
"You were so mad at that squirrel! Kept threatening to have his tree cut down for firewood, until you saw that he was making me laugh. I guess it don't take much to entertain a five year old, huh? Aunt Lulu always says that it's such a nice picture 'cause Mr. Bender caught you doing something you didn't usually let nobody see - just playing with me and being silly.
"I guess it wouldn't have been too good an idea to let everybody see that side of you. Don't exactly instill confidence to see the county commissioner talking back to squirrels in a squeaky voice. I loved it, though. I've always loved it when you would just be silly with me. It was like I was the most important person in the world to you, then, and you didn't care what nobody else thought."
Jessica smiled as she noticed that Uncle Jefferson's eyes had closed and his breathing deepened. "I guess it's only fair - I used to fall asleep when you were talking to me all the time," she stepped over to push a button on the bed, notifying the nurse that her great-uncle was ready to get back in bed. As the door opened, she realized, a bit guiltily, that she still held the cigar. She smiled faintly at the orderly as he entered the room, then quickly stuffed the cigar back into her purse as she lifted it back onto her shoulder. Taking a step over to the chair, she lightly brushed her lips over the bald head. "I'll see you tomorrow, Uncle Jefferson. I love you."
That night, just as Jessica and her uncles bowed their heads for Grandpa Jesse to ask the blessing, the phone rang, startling them all. "Now who could that be?" Jesse demanded, muttering about people calling at suppertime and interrupting a man just as he was fixing to talk to the Lord.
"It's probably Momma or Daddy, making sure I made it over here for supper. I think Momma was afraid I was going to try to cook for myself with her and Daddy both at the Boar's Nest. Last time, I just about set the kitchen on fire, you know," Jessica tried to hide her smile. Grandpa Jesse didn't have much use for telephones anyway, but especially not at mealtimes.
"It had better not be your Momma!" She knows what time we eat, and she knows better than to call a body at mealtime -it's just rude," Jesse snatched up the phone in the living room, looking ready to chew nails. His face and voice softened almost immediately, though, and he kept looking at her. The only thing she heard after, "Hello," was, "we'll be right there."
"I know that smoking ain't allowed here, but I don't care. I figured you might want your cigar anyway. Besides, we got something to celebrate today! My acceptance letter came today, Uncle Jefferson - I'm going to Georgia Tech in the fall! The first one in either family to go to college. Momma and Daddy are so happy and excited; you would think they were going, themselves.
"It never would have happened without you. If you hadn't given me that money, I couldn't have paid tuition. I just wish you could see me graduate. But, I guess that's silly. You can see me now, better than ever - hear me, too, no matter what nobody says!
"I gotta go now, Uncle Jefferson. Momma and Aunt Lulu are taking me to start buying stuff for my room. I just wanted to tell you myself, first. I'll come back tomorrow and let you know what all we got."
Jessica paused with her hand on the latch, and glanced back. The large, gray stone with the wrapped cigar lying on top seemed to stand out among the others. The recently carved words were legible, even at this distance:
'JEFFERSON DAVIS HOGG:
HUSBAND
UNCLE
FRIEND
REST IN PEACE, BOSS'
"I love you."
The Stubborn One - Trace Adkins
They say that smoking ain't allowed in here
But I don't care, I'll try to sneak you some
I saw your buddies at the barbershop
Man, they sure fight a lot just like they've always done
You look at me like you don't know who I am
But that's alright 'cause I know who you are
Chorus:
You're the stubborn one
My great-granddaddy's son
The one who drank his whiskey from a coffee cup
Time has stripped you of so many things you love
But you keep fighting on 'cause you're the stubborn one
Remember when we saw Hank Aaron play
I was in second grade
You snuck me out of school
And you wore overalls to Sunday church
You said the good Lord's work ain't done in a monkey suit
You bought your tires down at Eddie Shaw's garage
You said K-Mart didn't need your dollar
Chorus
The nurses wonder why I keep coming by
They tell me you can't hear me
I guess I'm more like you than anybody knew
I can't let go of what I hold so dearly
The stubborn one
Chorus
You're the stubborn one
You're the stubborn one
You're the stubborn one