
Leaning over the ridge I watched as the water ran its course down the creek. I listened. It always astonished me how the burbling drowned out all other sounds making it easy to forget there was an outside world moving around me. The Creek was one of the forbidden mysteries of grandma’s house. Although as children my mother and her sisters played in the creek when it came to the grandchildren ‘they might get hurt’.
Grandpa tapped me on the shoulder causing me to jump in the air. Laughing he asked, “Do you want to go to the dump with me?” Excited I climbed into the passenger side of his Toyota pickup. I loved visiting Grandma and Grandpa on the weekends. Whenever I did something with Grandpa, it was an adventure.

On the way back from the dump we stopped to clean the pond’s water filter. I sat on a log rambling off random questions. He tossed a frog from the filter at me. Laughing at my screech he answered my questions the questions always lead to him telling me stories. Many of my life decisions are based on these stories. This day he confessed about a stolen watermelon and what it was like being shot with rock-salt. He spoke of swimming holes and friendships. He expressed affection for his mother as one of the gentlest women he had ever known. It ended with him telling me about his 16th birthday and a conversation he had with his father. I remember my grandfather as a mischievous man with a powerful sense of right and wrong.
The three boys walked hurriedly along the dirt road following the fence line until they were sure old farmer Murphy wasn’t watching. Dropping to their bellies they slipped under the wire getting covered in dirt. The smell of the hot dry dirt was worth the sacrifice for their intended reward. Quickly they sprang to their feet, running to the largest watermelons they could find, they scooped one up and grabbed an extra. Then fast as light, they crawled back under the fence running down the dirt road laughing with each step cherishing their victory. First, they heard a loud sharp ringing sound and then felt the familiar sting in their backsides. It repeated. Nearly dropping the loot they ran faster not stopping until they reached Carson’s Creek. Dropping to their knees, laughing and out of breath, they sat the melons in the soft green grass. The stinging reminded Odell that their getaway wasn’t clean; he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt. Looking for relief, he grabbed the rope tied to an old cottonwood and swung into the water. Each boy followed finding relief from the hot dry sun. With the cool water dissolving the salt, they knew in a few minutes all the pain would be gone; they began to enjoy the water. This wasn’t the first time they had pulled this stunt and certainly not the first time they had caught a spray of salt rock. After a few minutes of horsing around and enjoying the crisp cool water, they retreated back to the grass.
Billy grabbed a sharp rock and struck one of the watermelons passing a piece to each of them. Each boy spread out in the grass looking up at the sky as they ate the loot. After a few minutes, Henry remarked, “It’s lucky for us that old farmer Murphy is half blind. My pa would kill me for sure if we got caught.” He grabbed another piece of melon.
“Not so blind he can’t still hit what he aims at,” refuted Odell. Placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes the hot sun began to dry his clothes. With a slight smile, he added; “Besides it’s his own fault growing such a big field of perfect watermelons.”
Ignoring Odell’s teasing Billy’s mind switched gears, “Hey, Odell what you wanna do tomorrow? I mean after doing your chores and all?” Billy lived for something to do. The three boys had gotten into many scraps because Billy just couldn’t wait to find something to do.
After a couple of minutes of consideration not that there were a lot of choices, Odell answered, “Fishing, if my dad allows,” then his returned to his thoughts. He’d been acting preoccupied, Billy and Henry could tell something was up but until he was ready Odell wasn’t going to share it, so they let it go. The boys went for another swim then lay in the sun exchanging small talk. As the sun started to hang over the west side of the sky, a fall breeze began to blow. Odell stood up picked up the extra melon and said: “I’ll catch you after chores”.
He started walking down the road. Henry and Billy knew the stolen melon was on its way to Mrs. Winters, a widow with three pretty daughters, and two small boys. Odell always did things for her. The boys agreed if they took one for themselves they would get one for her. Giving her a melon was restitution for the one they ate.

Fall then winter now it was spring Odell knew the time had come. He rehearsed his words over and over in his head. Listening as mama rattled things in the kitchen it meant that the fire would be hot and the kitchen would be cozy. His youngest sisters’ voice crept up the stairs. Peggy always got up with mama. She was 11 years younger than Odell and the youngest of seven children. Odell called her ‘mama’s shadow’ when mama did something Peggy followed right behind her. The morning was their special time.
Odell slipped down to the kitchen when he thought it would be warm. Mama set a hot cup of coffee in front of him and kissed his forehead. With a hug she wished him a Happy Birthday then she set about her business. Mama stepped outside and headed for the barnyard. Peggy followed her brown pigtails bouncing with each of her steps. She picked spring flowers while mama gathered eggs and feed chickens.

Odell was enjoying the warmth of the fire when his father entered the kitchen. James poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “Birthday Son” he offered as he glanced over the paper.
“Thanks, Dad,” Odell replied with his eyes fixated on every move his father made. Odell loved his father, but his father also puzzled him. James was a complicated man who professed to love his family but his actions contradicted this claim. Odell and his father looked a lot alike, both with sandy brown hair and a square chiseled face. Odell stood as tall as his father and sturdy like him. Blue eyes that were serious or fun depending on the situation, by all accounts everyone could tell they were father and son. The biggest difference between the two, Odell never drank, James did.
Odell’s older brothers, Virgil and Dick, found their way into the kitchen. After wishing Odell a happy birthday the three of them strolled out to do chores. Mama and Peggy returned put the flowers in a jar and began fixing breakfast. About that time Juanita made her way down she surveyed her surroundings making her way to the wood stove. Stopping to smell the flowers she noticed her pa, so she busied herself with setting the breakfast table.
After breakfast James studied Odell, he could see something was troubling the boy he’d been squirrelly all morning. “What’re your plans?” being his birthday he didn’t have to work the fields, the other boys would pick up his work for the day.
Odell stood up; It was time to be a man. Odell grabbed for the words he had been rehearsing and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “You won’t be hitting me or mama anymore.”


The room grew still and silent, all eyes were fixated on James. Eddie Bell looked from her son to her husband anxiety was starting to knot in her stomach. She slipped her hand into Peggy’s squeezing softly. James stared at Odell their blue eyes locking; after what seemed like an eternity James slightly nodded his head, they had reached an understanding. Odell opened the door and started walking toward the barn he was going fishing.
Mama began clearing the table; taking her lead the boys high tailed it out the door. James sat silently staring out the window. His son walked down the road fishing pole in hand. All of a sudden James was seeing Odell in a new light. Not a boy anymore but as a formidable man. Eddie Bell closed her eyes and whispered thank-you.

Over the years I heard many stories about my Grandfather one of the stories shared was as he gave each of his daughters away, he warned his soon to be Son-in-Law “you better never lay a hand on my daughter.” To the day Grandpa died he always thought a good day involved fishing.
Sadly, James died alone, they found his body lying on his couch with a bottle of booze in his hand. It’d been 3 days.

Wow, to have stood up and spoken up against the abuse took real courage. A beautiful tribute ❤
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Serious courage. He sounds like an amazing grandfather. Brave. Knows right from wrong and stands up for it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
He honestly was the greatest man I ever met. I was blessed to have him for a grandfather.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Admirable writing of an absorbing story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a moving story. I’m sure your grandfather is with those he loved. He would want only the best for you. ❤
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Odell was a wonderful and remarkable man! This is quite a warm tribute to him, Teri. You were lucky to know these stories. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am incredibly blessed. Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome! I was very blessed with a close relationship with my grandparents, too. 💞
LikeLiked by 1 person
You captured this so well. Wonderful stuff. And oh, the photos!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 😀
LikeLike
I loved this story as well as your photos. You took me to a different place and time. Well done, Teri!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
Your Grandfather sounded like a beautiful man🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
I thought he was pretty great.😁 Thank you.
LikeLike
God. I’m almost at a loss for words…except that would be a disservice to this exquisite piece. You undeniably have a gift.
I was right there, laying next to the creek with sticky fingers and watermelon juice dripping down my chin. I was there in the kitchen with a warm cup of coffee in front of me, and I was there as my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest, eyes locked with my dad, whom I both loved and feared. I was there, walking out the door, exhilarated because I had officially proven I was no longer a child…and deeply saddened, because I was in fact, no longer a child.
Beautifully written and utterly captivating…more please?! 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, a beautiful comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was 17 the day I finally said enough to my alcoholic ass of a Dad, 2 yrs into studying self defense I almost killed him, only a last second plea by my Mom kept me from snapping his neck. He never ever acted like such an ass again and he quit his drinking about one yr later. So yes, this story brought back memories, mostly bad I think, but good did come from it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank God for your mom.
LikeLike
I guess this is what’s termed ” maning up”. Great intimate share!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you.
LikeLike
Great story! That’s how it was in those days – no fancy shrinks, or TV talk shows, just a boy becoming a man.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Yep, simple and to the point. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This story sounds all to familiar in oh so many ways. I enjoyed the read so I am going to reblog it for you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. It’s very kind of you.
LikeLike
Powerful story. Well written. Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice…😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
Just checking in to say hope this new year is starting out with positive beginning and wishing you the best in 2018, Teri. Hugs, Robin 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is anew message to you, Teri! Hope your 2018 will bring more stories shared. I really appreciate your liking my posts! Thank you!
Happy February to you and yours, Teri. 🎉💕🌈
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great story – and one I hope you’ve told your son. We need to tell family stories to our children so they know their heritage. May 2018 be a good for you, Teri.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you
LikeLike
Wow, Teri. What a powerful piece!! The courage!! The resolve!! Odell truly became a man that day.
You are a very talented writer!!
Hope everything is going well for you.
I have a new blog.
http://purpleslobinrecovery.com
Hope you come by!
Melinda
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for your kind words.
LikeLike
Brilliant. What a wonderful man your grandfather was. I enjoyed reading this,Teri, thank you for sharing it. 🙂 Faith xo
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m thinking of you Teri and wishing you well. ((hugs)), Faith
LikeLike
Thank you for stopping by my blog. I hope life is going well for you. Have a Happy New Year! ❤
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mind blowing
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
I just re-read your story. (Thanks for coming over to my spot at Roughwighting). It’s really so well-written and open and honest. I love the photos that go with the prose. What a good man Odell was.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
Wonderful story written beautifully. Enjoyed very much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Incredible inspiring story of courage🤓
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person