Bible Group Meets

The Whistle Stop Baptist Church Ladies' Bible Study Group met Wednesday morning, last week, at the home of Mrs. Vesta Adcock and discussed ways to study the Bible and make it easier to understand. "Noah and the Ark," was the topic, and "Why Did Noah Let Two Snakes on the Boat When He Had a Chance to Get Rid of Them Once and for All?" If anyone has an explanation, they are asked to please call Vesta.

Saturday, Ruth and Idgie had a birthday party for their little boy. All the guests enjoyed pinning the tail on the donkey and eating cake and ice cream, and they all got glass locomotives with little candy pellets inside.

Idgie says they are going to the picture show again Friday night, if anyone wants to go.

Speaking of shows, the other night when I came in from the post office, my other half was in such a hurry to get over to Birmingham and get to the picture show before the prices changed that he grabbed his coat and ran out the door with me. And then, when we got there, all he did was complain about his back hurting him so bad all through the movie. When we got home, he found out he had been in such a rush he had forgotten to take the coat hanger out of his coat. I told him, the next time we'd pay the extra money for the ticket, because he ruined the picture for me, jerking around in his seat.

By the way, does anybody out there want to buy a slightly used husband, cheap?

Just kidding, Wilbur.

... Dot Weems...

FEBRUARY 2, 1986

When Evelyn walked in, her friend said, "Oh Evelyn, I wish you had been here ten minutes earlier. You just missed seeing my neighbor Mrs. Hartman. She came out and brought me this." She showed Evelyn a tiny mother-in-law tongue plant in a small ceramic white cocker-spaniel pot.

"And she brought Mrs. Otis the prettiest spider lily. I wanted you to meet her so bad, you would just love her. Her daughter's the one that's been watering my geraniums for me. I told her all about you...”

Evelyn said that she was sorry she'd missed her, and gave Mrs. Threadgoode the pink cupcake she had gotten over at Waites Bakery earlier this morning.

Mrs. Threadgoode thanked her kindly and sat there eating and admiring her planter.

"I love a cocker spaniel, don't you? There's nothing in the world happier to see you than a cocker spaniel. Ruth's and Idgie's little boy used to have one, and every time he'd see you, he'd zigzag and bang his tail all over the place like you'd been gone for years, even if you had just been to the corner and back. Now, a kitty will act like they don't care a thing in the world about you. Some people are like that, you know... run from you, won’t let you love them. Idgie used to be like that.”

Evelyn was surprised. “Really?” She said and bit into her cupcake.

"Oh yes, honey. When she was in high school, she gave everybody fits. Most of the time she wouldn't even go to school, and when she did, she would only wear that ratty old pair of overalls that had belonged to Buddy. But half of the time she would be off in the woods with Julian and his friends, hunting and fishing. But you know, everybody liked her. Boys and girls, colored and white alike, everybody wanted to be around Idgie. She had that big Threadgoode smile, and when she wanted to, oh, she could make you laugh! Like I said, she had Buddy's charm...

"But there was something about Idgie that was like a wild animal. She wouldn't let anybody get too close to her. When she thought that somebody liked her too much, she'd just take off in the woods. She broke hearts right and left. Sipsey said she was like that because Momma had eaten wild game when she was pregnant with Idgie, and that's what caused her to act like a heathen!

"But when Ruth came to live with us, you never saw a change in anybody so fast in all your life.

"Ruth was from Valdosta, Georgia, and she had come over to be in charge of all the BYO activities at Momma's church that summer. She couldn't have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old. She had light auburn hair and brown eyes with long lashes, and was so sweet and soft-spoken that people just fell in love with her on first sight. You just couldn't help yourself, she was just one of those sweet-to-the-bone girls, and the more you knew her, the prettier she got.

"She'd never been away from home before, and at first she was shy with everybody and a little afraid. Of course, she didn't have any brothers or sisters. Her mother and daddy had been real old when they had her. Her daddy had been a preacher, over there in Georgia, and I think she was raised real strict-like.

"But as soon as they saw her, all the boys in town, who never went to church, started going every Sunday. I don't think she had any idea how pretty she was. She was kind to everybody, and ol' Idgie was just fascinated with her... ldgie must have been around fifteen or sixteen at the time.

"The first week Ruth was there, Idgie just hung around in the chinaberry tree, staring at her whenever she went in or out of the house. Then, pretty soon she took to showing off; hanging upside down, throwing the football in the yard, and coming home with a huge string of fish over her shoulder at the same time that Ruth would be coming across the street from church.

"Julian said she hadn't been fishing at all and had bought those fish off some colored boys down at the river. He made the mistake of saying that in front of Ruth, and it cost him a good pair of his shoes that Idgie filled with cow manure that night.

"Then, one day, Momma said to Ruth, 'Will you please go and see if you can get my youngest child to sit down like a human being and have her supper?”

"Ruth went out and asked Idgie, who was in the tree reading her True Detective magazine at the time, if she wouldn't please come and have supper at the table tonight. Idgie didn't look at her, but said she'd think about it. We'd been seated and had already finished saying grace when Idgie came in the house and went upstairs. We could hear her upstairs in the bathroom running water, and in about five minutes, Idgie, who almost never ate with us, started down the stairs.

"Momma looked at us and whispered, 'Now, children, your sister has a crush, and I don't want one person to laugh at her. Is that understood?'

"We said we wouldn't, and in comes Idgie, with her face all scrubbed and she had her hair all slicked down with some old grease that she'd found up there in the medicine cabinet. We tried not to laugh, but she was a sight to see. All Ruth asked her was if she cared for some more string beans, and she blushed so bad that her ears turned as red as a tomato— Patsy Ruth started it first, just a snicker, then Mildred. And like I say, I always was a tagalong, so I started and then Julian, who couldn't control himself a minute longer, spit his mashed potatoes all over poor Essie Rue, who was sitting across from him.

“It was terrible to have that happen, but it was just one of those things. Momma said, ‘You may be excused, children,’ and all of us ran in the parlor and fell on the floor and about killed ourselves laughing. Patsy Ruth peed her pants. But the really funny thing is Idgie was struck so dumb at sitting next to Ruth that she never even knew what we’d been laughing at, because when she passed by the parlor, she looked in and said, That's a fine way to act when we have company.' And of course, we all just collapsed again...

"Pretty soon after that, Idgie started acting like a tame puppy. I think Ruth was lonesome, herself, that summer... ldgie could make her laugh, and, oh, Idgie would do anything to entertain her. Momma said it was the only time in Idgie's life that she could get her to do anything she wanted—all she had to do was to ask Ruth to get her to do it. Momma said Idgie would have jumped off a mountain backwards if Ruth had asked her to. And I believe that! It was the first time since Buddy died that she even went to church.

"Everywhere Ruth was, that's where Idgie would be. It was a mutual thing. They just took to each other, and you could hear them, sittin' on the swing on the porch, gigglin' all night. Even Sipsey razzed her. She'd see Idgie by herself and say, ‘That ol’ love bug done bit Idgie.'

"We had a fine time that summer. Ruth, who tended to be a little reserved, at first learned to cut up and play games. And pretty soon when Essie Rue would play the piano, she joined in the singing just like the rest of us.

"We were all happy, but Momma said to me one afternoon that she dreaded what was going to happen when the summer ended and Ruth went back home."

JULY l8, 1924

Ruth had been in Whistle Stop for about two months, and this Saturday morning, someone knocked at her bedroom window at 6 A.M. Ruth opened her eyes and saw Idgie sitting in the chinaberry tree and motioning for her to open the window.

Ruth got up, half asleep. "What are you up so early for?"

"You promised we could go on a picnic today."

"I know, but does it have to be this early? It's Saturday."

"Please. You promised you would. If you don't come right now, I’ll jump off the roof and kill myself. Then what would you do?"

Ruth laughed. "Well, what about Patsy Ruth and Mildred and Essie Rue, aren't they going to come with us?"

"No."

"Don't you think we should ask them?"

"No. Please, I want you to myself. Please. I want to show you something."

"Idgie, I don't want to hurt their feelings.”

"Oh, you won't hurt their feelings. They don't want to come anyhow. I asked them already, and they want to stay home in case their old stupid boyfriends come by."

"Are you sure?”

"Sure I'm sure," she lied.

"What about Ninny and Julian?"

"They said they've got things to do today. Come on, Ruth, Sipsey’s already made us a lunch, just for the two of us. If you don't come, I’ll jump and then you'll have my death on your hands. I’ll be dead in my grave and you'll wish you'd have come to just one little picnic."

"Well, all right. Let me get dressed, at least."

"Hurry up! Don't get all dressed up, just come on out—I’ll meet you in the car."

"Are we going in the car?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Okay."

Idgie had failed to mention that she had sneaked into Julian's room at 5 A.M. and had stolen the keys to his Model T out of his pants pockets, and it was extremely important to get going before he woke up.

They drove way out to this place that Idgie had found years ago, by Double Springs Lake, where there was a waterfall that flowed into this crystal clear stream that was filled with beautiful brown and gray stones, as round and smooth as eggs.

Idgie spread the blanket out and got the basket out of the car. She was being very mysterious.

Finally, she said, "Ruth, if I show you something, do you swear that you will never tell another living soul?"

"Show me what? What is it?"

"Do you swear? You won't tell?"

"I swear. What is it?"

"I'll show you."

Idgie reached into the picnic basket and got out an empty glass jar, said, "Let's go," and they walked about a mile back up into the woods.

Idgie pointed to a tree and said, "There it is!"

"There is what?"

"That big oak tree over there."

"Oh.”

She took Ruth by the hand and walked her over to the left about one hundred feet away, behind a tree, and said, "Now Ruth, you stay right here, and no matter what happens, don't move."

"What are you going to do?"

"Never mind, you just watch me, all right? And be quiet. Don't make any noise, whatever you do."

Idgie, who was barefoot, started walking over to the big oak tree and about halfway there, turned to see if Ruth was watching. When she got about ten feet from the tree, she made sure again that Ruth was still watching. Then she did the most amazing thing. She very slowly tiptoed up to it, humming very softly, and stuck her hand with the jar in it, right in the hole in the middle of the oak.

All of a sudden, Ruth heard a sound like a buzz saw, and the sky went black as hordes of angry bees swarmed out of the hole.

In seconds, Idgie was covered from head to foot with thousands of bees. Idgie just stood there, and in a minute, carefully pulled her hand out of the tree and started walking slowly back toward Ruth, still humming. By the time she had gotten back, almost all the bees had flown away and what had been a completely black figure was now Idgie, standing there, grinning from ear to ear, with a jar of wild honey.

She held it up, offering the jar to Ruth. "Here you are, madame, this is for you."

Ruth, who had been scared out of her wits, slid down the tree onto the ground, and burst into tears. "I thought you were dead! Why did you do that? You could have been killed!"

Idgie said, "Oh, don't cry. I'm sorry. Here, don't you want the honey? I got it just for you... please don't cry. It's all right, I do it all the time. I never get stung. Honest. Here, let me help you up, you're getting yourself all dirty."

She handed Ruth the old blue bandanna she had in her overalls pocket. Ruth was still shaky, but she got up and blew her nose and wiped off her dress.

Idgie tried to cheer her up. "Just think, Ruth, I never did it for anybody else before. Now nobody in the whole world knows I can do that but you. I just wanted for us to have a secret together, that's all."

Ruth didn't respond.

"I'm sorry. Ruth, please don't be mad at me.”

"Mad?" Ruth put her arms around Idgie and said, "Oh Idgie I'm not mad at you. It's just that I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. I really don't."

Idgie's heart started pounding so hard it almost knocked her over.

After they had eaten the chicken and potato salad and all the biscuits and most of the honey, Ruth leaned back against the tree and Idgie put her head in her lap. "You know, Ruth, I'd kill for you. Anybody that would ever hurt you, I'd kill them in a minute and never think twice about it."

"Oh Idgie, that's a terrible thing to say."

"No it isn't. I'd rather kill for love than kill for hate. Wouldn't you?"

"Well, I don't think we should ever kill for any reason."

"All right, then, I'd die for you. How about that? Don't you think somebody could die for love?"

"No."

"The Bible says Jesus Christ did."

"That's different."

"No it isn't. I could die right now, and I wouldn't mind. I'd be the only corpse with a smile on my face."

"Don't be silly.”

"I could have been killed today, couldn't I have?"

Ruth took her hand and smiled down at her. "My Idgie's a bee charmer."

"Is that what I am?"

"That's what you are. I've heard there were people who could do it, but I'd never seen one before today.”

“Is it bad?”

"Nooo. It's wonderful. Don't you know that?"

"Naw, I thought it was crazy or something."

"No—it’s a wonderful thing to be."

Ruth leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You're an old bee charmer, Idgie Threadgoode, that's what you are...”

Idgie smiled back at her and looked up into the clear blue sky that reflected in her eyes, and she was as happy as anybody who is in love in the summertime can be.

AUGUST 29, 1924

It's funny, most people can be around someone and then gradually begin to love them and never know exactly when it happened; but Ruth knew the very second it happened to her. When Idgie had grinned at her and tried to hand her that jar of honey, all these feelings that she had been trying to hold back came flooding through her, and it was at that second in time that she knew she loved Idgie with all her heart. That's why she had been crying, that day. She had never felt that way before and she knew she probably would never feel that way again.

And now, a month later, it was because she loved her so much that she had to leave. Idgie was a sixteen-year-old kid with a crush and couldn't possibly understand what she was saying. She had no idea when she was begging Ruth to stay and live with them what she was asking; but Ruth knew, and she realized she had to get away.

She had no idea why she wanted to be with Idgie more than anybody else on this earth, but she did. She had prayed about it, she had cried about it; but there was no answer except to go back home and marry Frank Bennett, the young man she was engaged to marry, and to try to be a good wife and mother. Ruth was sure that no matter what Idgie said, she would get over her crush and get on with her life. Ruth was doing the only thing she could do.

When she told Idgie she was leaving for home the next morning, Idgie had gone completely crazy. She was in her room breaking things and carrying on so loud that you could hear her all over the house.

Ruth was sitting on her bed, wringing her hands, when Momma came in.

"Ruth, please go in there and talk to her. She won't let me or her daddy in the room, and everyone else is afraid to go in there. Please, honey, I'm scared she's gonna hurt herself."

They heard another crash.

Momma looked at Ruth and pleaded, "Oh Ruth, she's just like a wounded animal, down there. Won't you please go and see if you can calm her down a little?"

Ninny came to the door. "Momma, Essie Rue says that now she's broken the lamp," and then she looked at Ruth apologetically. "I think she's upset because you're leaving."

Ruth took the long walk down the hall. Julian, Mildred, Patsy Ruth, and Essie Rue were all hiding behind their bedroom doors, with nothing but their heads poked out, staring bug- eyed at her as she passed them by.

Momma and Ninny stood way down at the end of the hall. Ninny had her fingers in her ears.

Ruth tapped gently on Idgie's door.

From inside the room, Idgie yelled, "LEAVE ME ALONE, GODDAMMIT!" and threw something that crashed against the door.

Momma cleared her throat and said in a sweet voice, "Children, why don't we all go wait in the parlor and give Ruth some privacy."

All six of them went downstairs in a hurry.

Ruth continued to knock at the door. "Idgie, it's me."

"Get away!"

"I want to talk to you."

"No! Leave me alone!"

"Please, don't be like this."

"Get the hell away from the door and I mean it!" And something else crashed against the door.

"Please let me in." "

NO!"

"Please, honey."

"NO!"

"IDGIE, OPEN THIS GODDAMNED DOOR RIGHT THIS MINUTE, AND I MEAN IT! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

There was a moment of silence. The door slowly opened. Ruth walked in and closed it behind her. She saw that Idgie had broken everything in the room. Some things twice.

"Why are you acting like this? You knew I was going to have to leave sometime."

"Then why cain't you let me go with you?"

"I told you why."

"Then stay here."

"I cain't"

Idgie yelled at the top of her lungs, "WHY NOT?"

"Would you quit that yelling? You're embarrassing me and your mother. The whole house can hear you."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do. Why are you acting like such a baby?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I DONT WANT YOU TO GO!"

"Idgie, have you lost your mind? What are people gonna think of a big grown girl like you acting like an I-don't-know-what?"

"I DONT CARE!"

Ruth started picking things up.

"Why are you gonna marry that man?"

"I told you why."

"WHY?"

"Because I want to, that's why."

"You don't love him."

"Yes I do."

"Oh no you don't. You love me... you know you do. You know you do!"

"Idgie, I love him and I'm going to marry him."

Then Idgie went really crazy and started crying and screaming in a rage, "YOU'RE A LIAR AND I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE! I DONT EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE! I HATE YOU!"

Ruth took her by the shoulders and shook her as hard as she could. Tears were streaming down Idgie's face as she kept yelling, "I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL!"

Ruth said, "Stop it! Do you hear me!" And before she knew what had happened, she had slapped Idgie across the face with all her might.

Idgie looked at Ruth, speechless and stunned. They just stood there, looking at each other, and in that moment Ruth wished more than anything in the world that she could just grab her and hold her as tight as she could; but if she had, she knew she would never let go.

So Ruth did the hardest thing she had ever done in her life; she just turned around and left, and closed the door behind her.

FEBRUARY 9, 1986

Evelyn had brought a box of tacos from Taco Bell, three blocks from where she lived, and Mrs. Threadgoode was fascinated.

"This is the first foreign food I've ever had except for Franco-American spaghetti, and I like it." She looked at her taco. "This is about the size of a Chrystal burger, isn't it?"

Evelyn was anxious to find out more about Ruth and tried to change the subject. "Mrs. Threadgoode, did Ruth leave Whistle Stop that summer or did she stay?"

"They were the size of a biscuit, and had little chopped-up onions on them."

"What?"

"The Chrystal burgers."

"Oh, that's right, they did have little onions on them, but what about Ruth?"

"What about her?"

"I know she must have come back, but did she go back home that summer?"

"Oh yes indeed, she did. You know, you could get five of them for a quarter. Can you still do that?"

"I don't think so. When did she leave?"

"When? Oh let's see, it was July or August. No, it was August, that's right. I remember now. Are you sure you want to hear about her? I never give you a chance to say anything. I just talk and talk."

"No, Mrs. Threadgoode, it's fine. Go ahead."

"Are you sure you want to hear about these old-timy things?"

"Yes."

"Well, when the end of August came around, Momma and Poppa pleaded with Ruth to stay and help them get Idgie through her senior year of high school. They told her they'd pay her anything she asked. But Ruth said she couldn't. Said she was engaged to be married to a man over in Valdosta, that fall. But Sipsey told Momma and I that no matter what that girl said, she didn't want to go back over there to Georgia. Sipsey said every morning her pillow would be soaking wet with tears where she'd cried all night.

"I don't know what Ruth told Idgie the night before she left, but we heard Idgie go into her room, and a few minutes later, you never heard such a racket—it sounded like a jackass in a tin stall. She had taken one of Buddy's football trophies and broke out all of her windows, and anything else she could find. It was awful.

"I wouldn't have gone near that room, not for love nor money....The next morning, she didn't even come out on the porch to tell Ruth goodbye. First Buddy, then Ruth. She just couldn't take it. The next day, Idgie was gone. She never did go back to school. She lacked one year of finishing.

"Oh, she would show up at the house every once in a while... when Poppa had his heart attack and when Julian and the girls got married.

"Big George was the only one who knew where she was and he would never betray her. Whenever Momma needed her, she'd tell Big George and he'd say to Momma that he'd pass it on if he happened to run into her. But she always got the message and would come home.

"Of course, I have my theories as to where she was..."

WARRIOR RIVER, ALABAMA

J. BATES, PROPRIETOR

AUGUST 30, I924

If you drove eight miles south of Whistle Stop, turned left on the river road, and went two more miles, you'd see a board nailed to a tree, that had been all shot up with buckshot. It read WAGON WHEEL CLUB AND CAMP, with an arrow pointing down a sandy road.

Idgie had been going down there with Buddy since she was eight. As a matter of fact, she was the one who had come down there to tell Eva that Buddy had been killed, because Idgie knew that Buddy loved her.

Buddy first met Eva when he was seventeen and she was nineteen. He knew that she had slept with a lot of men since she was twelve and had enjoyed it every time, but he didn't care. Eva was as easy with her body as she was with everything else, not at all like the Baptist girls at Whistle Stop. The first time she took him to bed, she made him feel like a man.

A big, buxom girl with a shock of rust-colored hair and apple-green eyes, Eva always wore colored beads and bright red lipstick, even when she went fishing. She didn't know the meaning of the word shame, and was indeed a friend to man.

She was not the sort of girl that most men would take home to Momma, but Buddy decided he would.

One Sunday, he brought her over to Whistle Stop for dinner, and afterward he took her over and showed her his poppa's store and made her an ice cream soda. Buddy was not a snob, but Leona was, and she nearly fainted at the table when she saw Eva. Eva, who was not a fool, told Buddy later that she had enjoyed seeing where he lived, but that she liked it better down at the river.

All the boys in town, made jokes about her and said dirty things whenever her name was mentioned, but not while Buddy was around. It was true that she had slept with whomever she pleased, whenever she pleased; but no matter what anybody thought or said, when she loved you, she was strictly a one-man woman. Eva belonged to Buddy, and as much as Buddy liked to flirt around, he belonged to Eva. She knew it and he knew it, and that's all that mattered.

Eva had the extreme luxury in life of not caring about what people thought of her. She had gotten that from her daddy, Big Jack Bates, a part-time bootlegger who weighed in at about three hundred pounds and loved to have a good time. He could eat and drink every other man in the county under the table.

Idgie used to beg Buddy to take her to the river with him, and sometimes he would. The River Club and Fishing Camp was just an old wooden shack with blue lights strung all around the porch, with a couple of rusty Royal Crown Cola signs and a faded ad for Goodyear tires stuck up by the door, and, around the back, a bunch of cabins with screened-in porches—but Idgie had fun when he brought her.

There was always a big gang of people out there on the weekends, and they'd play hillbilly music and dance and drink all night. Idgie would sit with Buddy and Big Jack and watch Eva, who could dance the tail off of a monkey.

One time, Buddy pointed to Eva and said, "Look at her, Idgie. Now, that's a woman. That's what makes life worth living, that redheaded woman."

Big Jack, who was crazy about laughed and slapped him on the back and said, "You think you're man enough to handle that girl of mine, boy?"

"I'm trying, Big Jack," Buddy said. "I may die trying, but I'm sure trying."

Pretty soon Eva would come over and get Buddy and they would go over to her cabin, and Idgie would sit with Big Jack and wait and watch him eat. One night he ate seven country-fried steaks and four bowls of mashed potatoes.

Then, after a while, Buddy and Eva would come back and he'd take Idgie home. Going back, he'd always say, "I love that woman, Idgie, don't ever doubt that I do," and Idgie never did.

But that was nine years ago, and on this particular day, Idgie hitched a ride with some fishermen and had been let out by the sign nailed to the tree. Yesterday, Ruth had left to go back to Georgia, and Idgie couldn't stand to be at home anymore.

It was almost dark when she got to the white gate with the two big wagon wheels. She could hear the music as she walked down the road and there were about five or six cars parked outside and the blue lights were already turned on.

A little three-legged dog came running up to her, jumping up and down. Idgie was sure it belonged to Eva; she could never turn anything away. There were always about twenty stray cats hanging around that Eva would feed. She'd open the back door and throw food out in the backyard for them. Buddy used to say if there was a stray anywhere within fifty miles, it wound up at Eva's.

Idgie hadn't been down at the river for a while, but everything looked about the same. The tin signs were a little rustier and a couple of the blue lights were burned out, but she could hear the people inside laughing, just like always.

When she walked in, Eva, who was sitting at a table drinking beer with some men, saw her right off and screamed, "My God! Look what the cat drug in!"

Eva had on a pink angora sweater with beads and earbobs to match, and bright red lipstick. She hollered to her daddy in the kitchen, "Daddy! It's Idgie!

“Come here, you hound dog, you." She jumped up and grabbed Idgie and just about squeezed the life out of her.

"Where have you been all this time? Girl, we thought the dogs had eat you!"

Big Jack came out of the kitchen and was about fifty pounds heavier than the last time Idgie had seen him. "Well, look who's here. If it ain't Little Bit. Glad to see you."

Eva held her out by the shoulders and looked at her. "Well, hell, if you ain't gone and got tall and skinny on me. We've gotta fatten you up, pal, ain't we, Daddy?"

Big Jack, who had been looking at her, said, "Damn, if she don't look more and more like Buddy every day. Look at her, Eva, don't she?"

"Damned if she don't!" Eva said.

Then she pulled Idgie over to the table. "Boys, this is a friend of mine. I want you to meet Idgie Threadgoode, Buddy's little sister. Sit down, honey, and have a drink."

Then Eva said, "Wait a minute, are you even old enough to have a drink?" She thought better. "Oh, what the hell! A little drink never hurt nobody none, did it, boys?"

They agreed.

As soon as Eva got over the excitement of seeing Idgie, she saw that something was wrong. After a while she said, "Hey, boys, why don't you go over to the other table for a spell. I need to talk to my pal, here.... Honey, what's the matter? You look like you just lost your best friend."

Idgie denied that there was anything the matter, and started ordering more drinks and trying to be funny. She got all liquored up and wound up dancing all over the place and acting like a fool. Eva just watched her.

Big Jack made her sit down and eat, around nine o'clock, but by ten she was off and running again.

Eva turned to her daddy, who was concerned. "We might as well just let her alone, let her do what she wants to."

About five hours later, Idgie, who had made a roomful of new friends, was holding court and telling funny stories. Then somebody played a sad hillbilly song about lost love, and Idgie stopped right in the middle of her story, put her head down on the table, and cried. Eva, who was pretty well liquored up, herself, by this time and had been thinking about Buddy all night, started to cry right along with her. The group moved on away from them to a happier table.

At about three o'clock that morning, Eva said, "Come on," and, putting ldgie's arm around her shoulder, she took her over to her cabin and put her in the bed.

Eva couldn't stand to see anything hurt that bad. She sat down beside Idgie, who was still crying, and said, "Now, sugar, I don't know who you're crying over, and it doesn't really matter, 'cause you're gonna be all right. Hush up, now... you just need somebody to love you, that's all... it's gonna be all right... Eva's here..." and she turned off the lights.

Eva didn't know about a lot of things, but she knew about love.

ldgie would live down at the river, on and off, for the next five years. Eva was always there when needed, just like she had been for Buddy.

NOVEMBER 28, 1935

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