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SmoovVButta
Under 100 Club
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Posted: Feb 2nd, 2006 06:07 PM |
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Beyond Understanding
a moment in life
Here I am flicking through one hundred and fifty channels, in search of something entertaining to watch. That was a common ritual with me, since cable television came on the scene. The discovery channel . . . one of my favorite stations. "The Cotton Gin" a documentary premiers tonight at eight o’clock. Hmmm, that should be interesting. I remember when I was a child my daddy told me about the cotton gin . . .
I could hardly wait for daylight to creep through my bedroom window. As soon as I felt the warmth of the sun caress my cheeks, I sprang up out of bed. It was Saturday. I always looked forward to Saturdays, but this Saturday was special. Grandma promised to take me to town. Momma, daddy, grandma and I lived in a town called, Jenkinsville. It’s a small town in South Carolina, about twenty-five miles outside of Columbia. That’s where grandma was taking me . . . Columbia! I was so excited. We didn’t go into town much, maybe once or twice a year. Most of what we needed . . . food wise, daddy raised it or grew it on our farm. We had a hen house with lots of chickens and a couple big roosters that constantly pecked at each other over who’s getting in the hen house. Sometimes they would peck at daddy when he’d try to get in the hen house. That always made me laugh. We also had pigs, cows, a garden full of vegetables and a small cotton crop.
Daddy was the only one who knew how to drive, so we had to wait until he finished chores around the farm before we could go. With excitement as my fuel, chores my daddy and momma assigned, were completed in a fraction of the usual time it took me to do them. I quickly realized that wasn’t a good thing to do, because I had too much free time on my hands. Momma was in the kitchen baking a butter pound cake, so I thought I'd keep her company. But she shewed me out of there as if I was a pesky fly, because I couldn’t keep still and she was afraid her cake would fall. I swung on the porch swing until I spotted daddy coming out the outhouse. As he made his way toward the hen house, I hurried to his side bouncing up and down as if springs were attached to my shoes. He ordered me to settle down before I work the chickens up. I tried my best to settle down, because I always did as daddy told me. It wasn’t so easy though, because that day wasn’t just any old day. That was the day I was going to town!
Momma made homemade ice cream about once or twice a month and it was really good too. It had fresh pieces of fruit in it and the best part was . . . I always got to help. I didn’t know about any other ice cream before, until grandma told me about ice cream on a cone. She said, the cone taste as good as the ice cream its self. Folks called it a cake cone. What she said, made my mouth water. I told her that too and she laughed like I told her the funniest joke ever. When she finally stopped laughing, I told her my mouth really was watering for some of that ice cream on a cake cone. That’s when she promised to take me to town. so I could taste one. .
By mid afternoon daddy had finished and we were on our way. First we stopped pass Garfield’s Market in Winsboro. That’s where we sold our cotton each season. Mr. Garfield had a cotton gin behind his market. Daddy said, that loud machine pulled the seeds from the cotton and packed it in bales. It turned our wagon full of cotton into two bales. Mr. Garfield paid daddy one thousand dollars. Grandma told me once Mr. Garfield got a lot more money for daddy’s cotton than he paid daddy for it. Somehow that never seemed fair to me, because daddy did all the hard work. I mentioned that to daddy one year and he told me it’s the way things are, that I’d understand better when I got older. I knew I’d never understand that . . . no matter how old I get, but I left it at that and didn’t ask him what he meant by it. Once daddy got paid we were on our way again.
The money was basically the only reason we went to town . . . to put it the bank, because Jenkinsville didn’t have a bank. As we pulled into town, my eyes were stretched open wide. I tried to take in as much as I could between each blink. We drove passed A shoe store full of spanking new shoes . . . dresses in fancy styles and colors, draped in windows. I never had new shoes before, momma always bought my shoes used. I never had a store-bought dress either. I had a new dress. . . many times, but it was new because momma made it . . . not new like a store-bought dress. While daddy went to the bank, grandma and me window shopped some before we went to the ice cream parlor.
There were a few people in line before us, but I was that close to getting a cake cone ice cream, so I stood aside grandma patiently and waited our turn. We were next in line when a lady and man stepped in front of us. I looked up at grandma to see what she would say, but she looked on as if it didn’t happen. It wasn’t long before another person stepped in and another and another. By now, my patience had wore thin, as my taste for ice cream grow, so I found it harder to standby and allow people to pass over us.
"Grandma we were here before all those people." I said with annoyance.
"Hush child." Grandma said in a low, but firm tone.
The people who had just stepped in front of us turned and stared at grandma with such anger in their eyes. Grandma lowered her head and fixed her eyes on the floor. Then I felt her grip thighten on my hand. As I looked around the store . . . every eye was on us.
"Why did everyone look so angry? I asked my grandma. "We only want an ice cream cone"
A voice came from behind the counter, "What did that little nigger say?"
With that, grandma pulled me by the arm and whisked me out of there.
As we ran out, I could hear those people shouting "that’s it niggers get out of here"
Once our run turned into a brisk walk, I asked grandma if I was going to get my cake cone.
"Not today child.".
I knew if I didn’t get it today . . . I wasn’t going to get it anytime soon, because daddy wasn’t coming back to town no more this year. I felt awful inside. Not only because I didn’t get my cake cone, but more so because, we did nothing to those people for them to treat us as they did. I never asked grandma about the incident again. I figured she’d tell me the same as daddy did.
"It’s the way things are, that I’d understand better when I got older."
Yet... here I am. . . all grown up and. . . I still don’t understand. . . I never will.
imagineNwrite!
SmoovV
©2005cj
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to be or not to be? Its our choice- smoovV
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MrSnap
Co-Admin Clerk
| Joined: | Nov 16th, 2005 |
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Posted: Feb 5th, 2006 05:43 PM |
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First of all, this was a great story....I was born and raised in SC too, bout 90 something miles away from Columbia, so this story took me back there and I was relating to alot of the things you were saying bout the chickens, pigs, and being so excited to go to "town"...But as the plot thickened, u took it there...Even tho I neva experienced blatant racism like that, I know that it did happened during my mom's time and her moms and so on....
"It’s the way things are, that I’d understand better when I got older."
Yet... here I am. . . all grown up and. . . I still don’t understand. . . I never will.
You summed it up best wit ya last two lines...It will never make sense no matter what.
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SmoovVButta
Under 100 Club
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Posted: Feb 6th, 2006 11:03 PM |
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bigd... this was an account from my mother's childhood. She told me about it some years ago. I didn't grow up in SC, but I spent a lot of happy summers down there.
I'm glad you were able to relate to parts of the story... thats what makes writing worthwhile.
thanks for the visit... its appreciated
SmoovV
____________________
to be or not to be? Its our choice- smoovV
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MrSnap
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Posted: Feb 7th, 2006 12:14 AM |
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SmoovVButta wrote: bigd... this was an account from my mother's childhood. She told me about it some years ago. I didn't grow up in SC, but I spent a lot of happy summers down there.
I'm glad you were able to relate to parts of the story... thats what makes writing worthwhile.
thanks for the visit... its appreciated
SmoovV
It was my pleasure...It brought back some wonderful memories of growing up in the "country"...
Drizz
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alkebulan
Junior Member
| Joined: | Dec 20th, 2005 |
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Posted: Feb 7th, 2006 12:55 AM |
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o k, now u've gone TOO FAR! don't u kno u can't b gettin all realistic & meaningful up n heya? 
this was really an outstanding written tale for many reasons. the imagry n the opening scnens is so vivid & detailed. i can picture many of the settings n my mind as i read them. we felt the anxious anticipation of this young girl as she hastily completes her chores. there is such an even pace w no hint along the way of the dissappointment that ultimatly occurs.
this was really a story well told & showcases ur storytelling craftswomanship well 
now 4 som ice cream.
i am becomming a fan of ur writing & look 4ward 2 reading mor short (& longer) stories written by u.
continued success
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SmoovVButta
Under 100 Club
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Posted: Feb 14th, 2006 06:21 PM |
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Wow! alkebulan your words almost rendered me speechless.
I thank you for your kind words. They convey, I did what I set out
to do... catch the reader's attention and hold on to it pass the end.
thanks again... much love
SmoovV
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to be or not to be? Its our choice- smoovV
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brown_baby
Under 100 Club
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Posted: Feb 21st, 2006 03:31 PM |
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This brought back memories for me. My mom grew up on a farm in NC. She would sit and tell us the same type of stories. I'll never understand how someone thinks they're better than others based solely on the color of their skin.
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Never frown...even when you're sad; you never know when someone is falling in love with your smile.
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1SlowSeduction
Vizhenz Supporter
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Posted: Feb 21st, 2006 05:34 PM |
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Great piece and I thank you for bringing it to us! I hope to read more of your work and that you might continue to express yourself freely. WOW ... my mind is drifting all over the place with my own memories of Virgilina & Sweet Creek Virginia, Oxford, NC and the surrounding areas. Yeah, I guess Ol' Seduction is just a good ol' Kuntry boy at heart! Thanks again!
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eboni_goddess
Junior Member
| Joined: | Jan 29th, 2006 |
| Location: | New Jeruz |
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Posted: Mar 4th, 2006 08:59 PM |
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| Most of what I wanted to say was already said by Alkebulan. This was a truly great story. Thank you for sharing. Your writing abilities are extraordinary!
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There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. [You] were born to manifest the glory...that is within you.
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insatiableus
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| Joined: | Jan 13th, 2006 |
| Location: | Maryland USA |
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Posted: Mar 5th, 2006 04:34 AM |
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 I've read this many times and did not know how to reply. I realize that the setting of the story was a couple of decades ago but this problem is still very real. As a multi-ethnic woman this hits home especially hard. Thank you sharing this peace....I did enjoy it however it was emotional. Kisses for you
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