My Redacted Life: Chapter 23 (Cont._2)

How do I get myself in such messes? It was a nice Sunday afternoon and I had driven my little sports car onto a man’s cow pasture. His daughter had just informed me that the man was coming to “beat you up,” as she put it. A white truck was coming fast, bouncing across the field toward my car.

I thought she might be kidding, but, with her, who could tell?

We reached my car at the same time as the truck. A man and woman were in it, and something white bounced up and down on the seat between them.

“Momma’s with him,” Brenda said. “That’s Frenchy in the middle.” She waved at them. The man did a quick, “fan wave,” and then looked toward me. He stopped the truck beside the truck, opened the door, and stepped out. The passenger, a dark-haired woman with glasses, did the same. I stood and didn’t move.

Brenda walked forward. “You caught us messing around with your cows, didn’t you?” She turned to me, “Meet my mother and daddy.”

The couple looked at me as if I had just walked down the gangway of an alien spaceship.

“This is Vernel’s neighbor at the apartment,” she said. “His name is Jim, but I think I’m going to call him Jimmie.”

Lots of life was
behind those smiles.

The man stepped forward and extended a large, freckled hand, one that years of hard work had obviously tortured without relief. “Julius Cole,” he said. We shook. He was wearing the tan shirt and pants of a farmer. Red hair erupted from his head and formed what they used to call “a roach.”

“I’m Hazel Cole,” the woman said. “Did you feed the cows for us?” She wore white blouse and a black skirt that reached just below the knees. She squinted through thick eyeglasses and smiled.

“We were just out for a drive in his new car,” Brenda said. “I thought I would show him the place.”

Before anyone could speak, shrill barking sounded in the white truck and I looked to see what looked like a small poodle leaping against the driver’s window.

“That’s Frenchy,” Brenda said. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

The dog continued his antics as I studied the couple. I could have picked them out of a crowd. The man was stout and ruddy, with the same complexion as Brenda. The woman had the same oval face beneath dark straight hair. She and her daughter could have been mistaken for sisters. I was to find later that it wasn’t uncommon for the two to be confused on the streets of Lonoke.

In short, it looked as if the parents had been shaken together in a sack, and the daughter fell out.

Julius was staring at my car. “What’s this?” he said.

It’s a cheap Porsche sports car,” I said. “I just bought it a couple of weeks ago.”

He began to ask me detailed questions about the engine.

Hell, I didn’t know. I changed the subject. “Brenda says you were in Europe during the war.” Then, it was still simply known as “the war.”

He looked up and his face took on first a dark look of suspicion. Then, in a second, it brightened. “Seventy-Ninth Infantry Division, just a rifleman ... France, Belgium, and Germany.”

“I was in the Navy,” I said quickly. “First in Vietnam, then at sea on the east coast.”

“Vietnam, you say?”

“Yes sir. Naval Security at Da Nang.”

“Vietnam.” He repeated it for emphasis.

I didn’t say anything.

“They didn’t treat you boys right,” he said. “We had it rough, but they didn’t treat you boys right when you got back.”

Hazel broke in. “Did you stop and see the folks on your way here?”

“No,” Brenda said. “We were just driving around and I thought I would show him some of Daddy’s cows.”

With the ice broken we visited. My next-door neighbor had been right. Once we disclosed that I was a veteran, I was fine.

We heard about the first time Julius came under fire. “I was still layin’ there when the Lieutenant ran back and said, ‘Let’s go. What are you waiting on?’ I told him ya’ll said ‘hit the ground’ and that’s what I did. He just laughed and told me to get up and come on.”

 Hazel filled Brenda in on some family gossip. We all relaxed and I enjoyed her parents. They were just like the folks I grew up around.

In time, Brenda said, “I guess we better get going. He has to go to work tomorrow.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Julius asked.

I tried to explain and failed. We left it at: I just worked in an office.

“I farm,” Julius said. “Never wanted to, but I do.” He motioned at his wife. “She works for the doctor in town.

“Dr. Holmes,” Hazel added, as if the additional information was vital.

We parted in good spirits. I wondered if I would ever see them again.

“Just pull the gate to,” Julius said as we started to leave. “I’ll fasten it when we leave. I think I have a cow over’t the back that’s about to have a calf.”

“Come back to see us,” Hazel said.

We found out later that her mother had told her best friend Edna, “It looks like Brenda has found herself one younger than she is.”

All I cared about was that she held my hand all the way home, except when I needed it for shifting. I couldn’t help feeling I had just passed through some portal.