Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe Page 8

  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 DON’T 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 DON’T 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 DON’T 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 …”

  AUGUST 30, 1924

  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 ever
ything 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 Buddy, 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 Idgie’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.

  Idgie 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

  A Friend Indeed

  Railroad Bill threw 17 hams off the government supply train the other night, and I understand our friends in Troutville had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

  The pageant The History of Whistle Stop that was presented over at the school was a reminder that the Indians who used to live around here were a brave and fierce-like people, especially as portrayed by Vesta Adcock, who was Chief Syacagga, the Blackfoot Indian Chief whose land this was.

  My other half claims that he is one-third Blackfoot Indian, but he ain’t so fierce … just kidding, Wilbur.

  P.S. In case you wondered who was inside that cardboard train that came across the stage, it was none other than Peanut Limeway.

 
; Idgie says that Sipsey, her colored woman, grew a stalk of okra six feet, ten inches tall, in the garden over by the Threadgoode place, and that she has that over at the cafe.

  Everyone here is still heartbroken over the death of Will Rogers. We all loved him so much, and wonder who can replace our beloved Doctor of Applesauce. How many of us remember those happy evenings at the cafe, listening to him on the radio? In these hard times, he made us forget our trouble for a little while, and gave us a smile. We are sending his wife and children our sympathy and good wishes, and Sipsey is sending one of her pecan pies, so you all come by the post office and sign the card that’s going with it.

  … Dot Weems …

  FEBRUARY 16, 1986

  Evelyn had brought an assortment of cookies from the Nabisco company, hoping to cheer her mother-in-law up, but Big Mama had said no thank you, that she didn’t care for any, so Evelyn took them down the hall to Mrs. Threadgoode, who was delighted. “I could eat ginger snaps and vanilla wafers all day long, couldn’t you?”

  Evelyn unfortunately had to nod yes. Chewing on her cookie, Mrs. Threadgoode looked down at the floor.

  “You know, Evelyn, I hate a linoleum floor. This place is just full of ugly gray linoleum floors. You’d think with so many old people out here, running around in their felt slippers, that are prone to slippin’ and slidin’ and breaking their hips, they’d put down some rugs. I have a hooked rug in my living room. I made Norris take my black tie-up shoes down to the shoe shop and get me a rubber Cat’s Paw sole put on them, and I don’t take them off from the time I get up until the time I go to bed at night. I’m not gonna break my hip. Once you do that, it’s goodbye, Charlie.

  “These old people out here are all in bed by seven-thirty or eight o’clock. I’m not used to that. I never went to bed before the ten-twenty to Atlanta passed by my house. Oh, I get into bed by eight and turn out the lights so I won’t disturb Mrs. Otis, but I can never get to sleep good until I hear the ten-twenty blow his whistle. You can hear it all the way across town. Or maybe I just think I hear it, but it doesn’t matter. I still don’t go off until I do.