I have been tellin' this story nearly sixty year. You boys and girls of
the First Baptist Church of Franklin County in the great state of
Missouri seem to enjoy it though. So I keep tellin' it.
I guess the
best way to begin is where Runnin' Jimmy comes unto this world. That
would explain his strange name to you folks who never heard this tale
before.
It starts with Preacher John, who was a green eyed, cross
eyed, hard man to get along with. But he told the word of God and was
the only man of the cloth to answer the town's request in the
Pennsylvania Gazette Newspaper for their need of one.
The township of New Hope, Missouri was Preacher-less until he came and told the Lord's message.
It did not take long until he was sayin' Fire and Brimstone was soon comin' down from Heaven because of the sins of the valley.
That was when Miss Mable, the colored school Marm here in New Hope was found to be carryin' a child.
She
never would say who fathered the child so Preacher John explained it as
the Devil's work and the child should not walk this Earth.
Good old
Missus Jenkins would hear none of that talk. "God will never blame an
unborn child for the sins of its parents," she would say.
And you
children here know the Jenkins clan well. Old Missus Jenkins slapped
many of your Daddy and Mommy rumps when they came unto this world. Her
daughter slapped you older boys and girls rumps and her daughter slapped
you younger folk so your parents could hear the joy of your cry. God's
gift of life.
I like when I see you older boys get Indian faces,
no disrespect to our friends intended, when you hear your rumps were
slapped by a woman. It shows humility.
Now where was I?
Ah yes.
Poor
Miss Mable, I guess, could not bare to see what would happen to her
newborn if Preacher John got his way. So she passed away at givin'
birth, God rest her soul, leavin' Missus Jenkins with the task of raisin' the new born boy until he could walk.
Preacher
John was so fiery with his conviction that the child was the Devil's
work that the town folk had to build a little home for him out in the
woods where he was told by the Preacher he would live alone.
You know
the good people here never gave it another thought by disobeying that
green eyed Preacher. Each day one Ma or Pa from your kinfolk would go
out to them woods, and teach the boy, schoolin' and feedin' him the best county
corn and roast pig. All he could eat.
Soon folks here would see that
boy at the edge of the forest's pine trees or edge of their wheat fields
wavin' to them with a big smile on his face. Before they could answer,
he'd run off faster than a jackrabbit.
He knew never to smile at the cross eyed Preacher John though.
Sometimes
I think he taunted the Preacher by showin' himself to him, waitin'
until cross eyed got his shotgun out, runnin' before that Preacher got a clean
shot off. All you ever saw was a bloom of dust and rock where the
gunshot hit the ground.
That was where the boy was standin', but he be
runnin' so fast, he be maybe 15 to 16 full grown corn stalks
in length away laughin' like those hyenas you hear about from back east, that
the rich folk go see at them zoos.
Town folks all called him boy until then. After, he'd be known as Runnin' Jimmy.
Now Pickled Mary's name came a different way of course.
Uncle Jim, your name is Jim and Aunt Mary's name is Mary. Is this story about you two?
Shush
girl. That's what's wrong with this generation of boys and girls. You
don't know when to shush and when to talk. And besides, do I look like I
could run anywhere?
Pickled Mary, now she was an ornery girl, with the attitude of protecting her friends and always tellin' the truth. She
got her Christian name at birth but her funny name, Pickled, actually
came from her tryin' to rip the ears off the cousin of Preacher John.
This fellow came to New Hope tellin' folks he was related to the town's
Preacher. No one ever saw the two together talkin' nor did this fellow
ever show up for the Sunday sermon.
The Preacher was asked about this fellow and his answer was always the same, "Wrong side of the family."
One
day this fellow had trapped Mary behind the family's barn. Nobody knew
why he was there, but as Mary tells it, "I have seen horses and cows
mate. Was told early on about the birds and the bees, but once that
man told me what he was going to do to me, God as my witness knows I
should have ripped more than his ears off. I have never heard such shameful words in all my days!"
It was said after, that, that fellow ran straight out of town screaming, "The girl is picklelated!"
I am not sure if it's ever been a word, but back then, picklelated meant you were a little crazy. So instead of callin' her Crazy Mary, Pickled Mary seemed more appropriate.
That's not the end of your story telling, is it Uncle Jim?
Girl, I told you shush once now already. Do not go and anger me so I have to find a sturdy switch to use on you.
Sorry Uncle Jim.
You get excited easily there Gertrude, I know. Still, you a good child.
New
Hope already found the red headed Scott, Miss Finley, to become the
School Marm. And it be a good choice too, since she lasted 30 year
to school your families.
Preacher John and Miss Finley never made friends like he and Miss Mable did before Miss Mable began carryin' child.
Miss
Finley says Preacher John was too stupid to be a real Preacher and he
got his, she often used the word credentials, from the back of a box of
lye.
I never really knew what she meant by that but the smarter townsfolk took it as he was a fake. Not really a Preacher at all.
We
will never know for sure. When Miss Finley wrote to the Bishop of Philadelphia, it was in the fall of the year of our Lord, 1832. That year
the snow came late, the ground was dry and hard, the leaves no longer hung on trees, and bushes were bare of all life.
Some say
it was Preacher John himself who started the fires near the school house. Some say it was lightnin' strikin' without the rain. But the
good Lord was looking out for our School Marm that night, when the wind
shifted away from the school house and back up the valley.
It could
have been a deadly shift of wind if it was not for the fact that smoke
blew right into the woods where Runnin' Jimmy lay sleepin'. That boy woke with only one thought. Wake the townsfolk before they all burn in their homes.
Now
don't you girls go a gigglin', but Runnin' Jimmy never gave no heed to
his looks that night. He ran straight to the Church and up the bell tower, naked as a mole rat. Those two bells rang and rang, even though Preacher John said it was the Devil's work again.
No
need tellin' you the men folk woke in time to get the women and
children to form a line from the river with buckets, splashing all the
town's buildins' with water, while the men raked and digged the hard
ground, throwin' dirt on the comin' flames.
The only buildin' burnt down was Preacher John's home.
Most
of the men came to look at the burnt out home after the danger had
passed. Preacher John was there with shotgun in hand yellin' for the
Devil child to show himself.
With no fear in his eyes, runnin' as
fast as ever, the mole rat-dressed boy stops not ten fully grown corn
stalks away, anger on his face, lookin' at Preacher John, as if green
eyes was a guilty soul.
"Say your prayer's boy, you are on your way to Hell," says the cross eyed Preacher.
Pickled
did not hesitate. She stood right in front of Runnin' Jimmy. With ambers still glowin' hot from the burnt down buildin', reflectin' red
off her white skin, Pickled Mary screamed, "You are the Devil if you
kill Runnin' Jimmy after he saved all our lives."
"Get away from him girl or you will be going to Hell with your friend there."
The
men folk of New Hope were angered by a threat to one of their daughters
by a man of the cloth. Before he could get a shot off, they surrounded
him.
I cannot tell you what might have been said to the Preacher that night,
but cross eyed was no longer a man of the cloth in their eyes. He handed
his shotgun over to one of the men and declared in the voice he so often
used in Church, "I am on my way to the South, away from you fools.
There a man knows his place in this evil world. Protect your half breed
boy. The Devil can trick a man in believing he is doing God's will while
the whole time he is doing evil."
By then, someone had brought out cross eyed's palomino from the barn, saddled and ready to go.
The look of pure shock on cross eyed's face was more than Runnin' Jimmy could bear. He laughed like a tickled babe on Christmas morn'.
Cross
eyed already had the reigns twisted in his hand by then but before he
could saddle up, Runnin' Jimmy ran to the palomino and slapped it's rump
like he was awakenin' that newborn.
That pony kicked its hind legs so high, I swear, Lord forgive me, it could have reached the stars! Then
off it ran into the darkness and all you could hear from the half
draggin', half runnin', green eyed, cross eyed John was, "Stop Miss Mable,
stop!"
Uh-Oh, here comin' Aunt Mary.
Oh Jimmy, I heard you
swear to those words in your story. If you didn't ask the Lord to
forgive you I would have been here to slap that smile right off your
face. Pickle-laided? And why does the story get more fables to it as you
tell it over and over? Naked as a mole rat. Someday Jimmy, you will be
struck by lightning if you keep adding myth to your telling.
Ah woman. The children like it.
Now children go clean up so we can say our prayers. The men folk are almost done with the barn raising. Now go!
- Andrew James Pritchard -
Like what you are reading?
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete