Leaving

His intuition told him, "Somethin's up." It was just a gut feeling, a hunch but he needed to leave work, go home to see if his intuition was right. Once there, if there wasn't a car in the drive, if she was home alone with their two babies, JJ one, and Judy, two, he'd just do a drive by and head back to work. But there was a car in the drive. He pulled in next to the car. He knew that car; he knew who owned that car. Things were about to get really ugly.  

When she told me the story about how her brother, Chub, found his wife in bed with another man while their two babies were asleep in the next bedroom, she bragged about her part in getting rid of the whore. 'Well, that's what she was," JJ's aunt said. "A whore! Chub called me and I came right over to the house. It was fireworks in that house. We sent her packing right then and there. She was out the door and walking down highway 135 crying and carrying a suitcase last we saw her. Damn whore. Aunt Sis continued. "We took them babies to Dad and Mom's farm in Bargersville and she raised them babies up, with my help."

I liked Aunt Sis the moment I met her, even though she was loud, intimidating, and opinionated. "That's the German in me," she said. "I say what I think; I don't care who likes it." She was a straight shooter and as long as she didn't shoot me, we'd get along fine. She and her husband, Charlie, lived in a modest two-bedroom home a mile and a half south of JJ's farm right on Morgantown Road in Greenwood.

At sixty-five, Sis was a white-haired, big, full figured woman and strong as an ox. She liked her fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and pork fat and cow tongues and hog brains fried in lard which, over the years, laid a roll of fat around her middle, but it never, ever slowed her down. She could work circles around me and never tire.

When it became evident that I was the gal JJ was going to pick, Aunt Sis and Uncle Charlie started coming to the farm more often. She wanted to country-fy me. One day, she said she was going to teach me how to fry chicken. "Not like city-folk do," she said. "There's nothing to it. You're gonna learn how to fry chicken the country way. Let's go." Out the door she went with me right behind her.  Behind me were JJ's two little girls, Amy and Stacia. Sis walked down to the chicken coup and grabbed a chicken that was just minding its own business walking around eating bugs and things found in the grass. Chub and JJ were working on a tractor nearby, but when they saw Sis with a chicken in her hand, they both stopped what their were doing and walked over to watch the spectacle that was about to happen. I had no idea what was coming. Stacia began to cry, "No! No! Sis, don't do it!" Amy was running around just happy to be running around. JJ and Chub stood perfectly still, waiting. While Stacia pleaded with Sis to stop, Sis took the chicken by the neck and began fast twirling the chicken in the air. One way, then the next. Back and forth. Chicken dead. Stacia was crushed. JJ and Chub were bent over from laughter. Amy was just running around just happy to be running around. After Sis chopped the head off the chicken, hung it upside down to drain the blood, she said, "Okay, let's go fix us some country-fried chicken."

In time, Sis and I became very close. We did everything together and with the kids. She loved to be a kid again and play and laugh and go on adventures. With me and the children, she was young again. Sis adored those kids; they were her life. Before she was lost in the depths of dementia, she never got mad at me one time, but I do remember a few times when she was furious with her nephew.

One cold snowy winter day, the farmhouse erupted in ugly. Amy remembers the details of that day. I don't. I do remember looking out the window and seeing Sis' little green Volkswagen beetle bug race up the long gravel drive that led to the farmhouse. She knew something was wrong. I don't know how she knew. Maybe it was that German intuition. She opened the door without knocking, stormed into the parlor where we all were, puffed herself up to appear bigger than she actually was, stared JJ in the face and said, "KIDS, GET IN THE CAR! WE'RE LEAVING!" We all obeyed Sis and got in the car.

So much of that day is lost to me.  I know we came home later that day. Kids are so resilient and forgiving and all was well with Daddy later that night after popcorn and a movie. We were the happy Walton family again. Goodnight John boy.