The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

by Fannie Flagg

“A veterinarian. Oh cool….Did you always want to be a vet?”

  Bud nodded. “Pretty much. And I guess I can blame my Aunt Idgie for that. She was a big animal lover. From the time I can remember, she always had a couple of cats, and took in every stray animal for miles around. Some of them so sick or hurt they were barely alive. But somehow she was able to nurse them back to life. Possums, birds, baby squirrels, you name it. One time somebody brought her a chicken that had lost both its feet in an accident, and darned if she didn’t figure out a way to make it a pair of new feet.”

  “How’d she do that?

  “She took a pair of leather baby shoes and glued them on its legs, and before you knew it that chicken was running all over the yard in pink leather baby shoes.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah, and when one shoe came off, she’d just glue another one on. We even had an alligator once, with half his tail missing.”

  “An alligator?”

  “Sure did. My uncle Julian was living down in Florida at the time and found it on the side of the road and brought it to her. She kept it in a big cement tub in the back of the cafe, with wires over the top, so it wouldn’t escape.”

  “Was it dangerous?”

  “Oh, you bet he was. One time he got loose and was hiding under the steps. And the next morning when I came down them headed for school he jumped out and bit the hell out of me.”

  “No…”

  “Oh yeah, just about took my whole leg off.”

  Billy was horrified. “Oh no…your whole leg?”

  Bud smiled. “Well…it was more like a toe. Makes a good story though, doesn’t it?”

  Billy said, “Yeah, an alligator…wow.”

  Bud smiled. He was going to have a good time with this boy.

  ATLANTA, GEORGIA

  AS THEY STOOD and watched the police car drive away, Mr. Merris turned to the nervous bus driver. “I’m telling you, Jerome, if anything happens to Mr. Threadgoode and that family sues us…I’ve a good mind to have you drug tested.”

  Jerome’s eyes suddenly opened up very wide. He wasn’t a doper, but he did smoke a little pot now and then.

  Mr. Merris looked at him and said, “No, on second thought, I’d better not. If we found something, then we would be liable for sure. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t check your list before you left the lot.”

  “I did, Mr. Merris. And I swear he wasn’t on the list.”

  “And what was he doing on the Baptist bus? He should have been on the Methodist bus.”

  Mr. Merris turned to the activities director who had been standing nearby on the sidewalk. “Hattie, you were there when they were boarding, what do you know about Mr. Threadgoode being on the Baptist bus?”

  “Well…a couple of months ago, I do remember he got on the Presbyterian bus, and last week he took the Unity bus. And the week before, I think it might have been the Christian Scientist bus, but he always signed in, until today.”

  “Why was he doing all that church hopping?”

  Hattie shrugged. “He told me he was a spiritual seeker.”

  “Oh, great,” Mr. Merris sniffed. “Well, thanks to you two, unless he shows up soon, we all may be new job seekers.”

  As they all followed Mr. Merris back into the building, Hattie’s friend who worked in the dining room caught up with Hattie and walked beside her.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Mr. Threadgoode escaped.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Flew the coop.”

  “When?”

  “This morning”

  “Good for him.”

  “Yeah. And Mr. Merris is having a fit.”

  YES, MR. MERRIS was having a fit, and he thought with good reason. Naturally, they’d had residents wander away from the Manor before. With a large memory care unit on the premises, it was to be expected. But in the past, they had always been found within the hour, somewhere on the property. Mr. Threadgoode had been missing for over three and a half hours now, and this could very well mean Mr. Merris’s job. Not only had they lost a resident under his watch, it was the particular resident they’d lost that was so worrisome.

  Richard Merris had started his professional life as choir director at the large All Saints Episcopal Church on Peachtree. It was the church all the old established monied families of Atlanta attended. And when their time came, Briarwood Manor was the preferred retirement home.

  Eleven years ago, when Mrs. Sockwell, the former director of operations at Briarwood Manor, had what was later described as “a small nervous breakdown,” it was Mr. Merris’s good fortune to have been personally recommended for the position by none other than Mrs. Martha Lee Caldwell. Not only was she a lifetime board member at Briarwood, but her husband’s parents had been founding members. The elder Caldwells had donated the land, the building, and all the artwork that now graced the walls. Granted, Mr. Threadgoode wasn’t a Caldwell; he was the father of Martha’s daughter-in-law. But even so, Mr. Merris didn’t want to rile Martha Lee for any reason. He knew that if anything bad happened to Mr. Threadgoode, he was toast. Burnt toast.

  * * *

  —

  MR. MERRIS WALKED back into his office, sat down at his desk, took his roll of Tums from his drawer, and then buzzed Miss Poole.

  “Did you call the daughter?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Listen, when you spoke to her, you didn’t sound too concerned, did you? I think we need to downplay this as much as we can, for as long as we can.”

  “I just told her what you said to say, that we lost her father and you would be calling later with the details.”

  “Okay. And did you say anything else?”

  “No sir. I didn’t know anything else to say.”

  “All right then. I’d better get this over with. I just hope to God she hasn’t called her mother-in-law yet.”

  Mr. Merris glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusted his toupee a little to the right, and prepared himself for what could be a difficult phone call. He needed to sound as casual as he could under the circumstances. “Just put a smile in your voice,” he said, “and be calm.” He smiled and dialed. Ruthie picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Caldwell,” he oozed, “Richard Merris here. How are you doing? Listen, dear, I know Miss Poole called and told you a little bit about what was going on.”

  “Yes…she did.”

  “I hated to bother you with this, but frankly, Mrs. Caldwell, I really don’t think it’s all that serious. I know, it’s a little disconcerting not knowing where he is at the moment, but I’ll bet one day, we’ll all be laughing about it.”

  Ruthie sat there wondering if she had suddenly gone insane or if he had.

  “Mr. Merris…I don’t understand. Why would I ever be laughing about the loss of my father?”

  “Oh no. I meant no offense. No, I just meant when we do locate him, and he’s perfectly fine, we’ll laugh about having been so worried, that’s all. And technically, we didn’t actually lose him. He just got off the Briarwood bus and walked away.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, and I was just informed by my staff that for some time now, every Sunday, your father has been getting on the wrong bus, and I hate to say it, Mrs. Caldwell, but quite frankly, I’m beginning to think it was all a ruse, and this…um…little stunt was planned all along and not an oversight on our part. But having said that, I can assure you that everything that can be done is being done.”

  By now Ruthie’s head was spinning

  “Wait…wait a minute. What bus? I’m so confused. Isn’t my father dead?”

  Mr. Merris’s heart almost stopped. “Dead? Have you heard something? Has someone called you?”

  “Yes, Miss Poole called and said my father
had died this morning.”

  “What? She said your father was dead?”

  “I thought that’s what she said.”

  “Your father’s not dead. He’s just missing. Oh my heavenly Lord, can you give me a moment, Mrs. Caldwell?” He put his hand over the receiver and yelled into the next office. “Miss Poole, GET IN HERE…RIGHT THIS MINUTE! Mrs. Caldwell, let me call you right back. I have to fire someone.”

  Janice Poole, who had seen this coming for some time, had already quietly packed her few personal things in a box and was on her way out the door. The hell with the Toyota hatchback; she’d get a bicycle.

  * * *

  —

  AFTER SHE HUNG up with Mr. Merris, Ruthie broke down and sobbed. She had just been through one of the worst hours of her life. She had her father dead and buried and now, to suddenly find out he was alive. All the emotions of relief came flooding out. Thank goodness she hadn’t called the children and upset them for no reason. Daddy was alive. All that worry for nothing. Then it slowly started to sink in. Yes, he was alive, but, according to Mr. Merris, he was still missing. Oh Lord. Now she didn’t know if she should be worried about him anymore or not. Her father had a history of doing silly things. And if disappearing like this turned out to be one of his little jokes, when he did show up, she was going to kill him.

  CAR 6

  Seats 11 and 12

  BUD THREADGOODE AND Billy Hornbeck were now deep in conversation. Billy was quite impressed that Bud had been a veterinarian and wanted to hear more about it, and Bud was perfectly happy holding court, telling him about some of his experiences.

  “Of course, I was lucky,” he said. “In my profession, I mostly dealt with nice people. But I met a few bad apples along the way. You know, Billy, you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat their animals. I like just about everybody, and I can forgive a lot of things. But I don’t have a bit of use for a person who will mistreat an animal. My Aunt Idgie was the same way. One time, somebody threatened to kill her cat. And back then there was no animal control or anybody you could call. You had to take matters into your own hands.”

  “Did she?”

  “Oh yes. And she nearly went to jail over it, too.”

  “Really?”

  “It all started when this guy named Arvel Ligget from Pell City kept coming over to Whistle Stop and pestering all the women in town, leering at young girls, things like that. A real bad guy. Anyhow, he was always coming into the cafe and hanging around, but one day, when he was sitting at the counter, he started making lewd remarks to my mother. And before he knew it, Aunt Idgie had come around the counter, grabbed him by the collar, and thrown him out the door, and told him to never come back.”

  “For real?”

  “Oh yeah, so after she threw him out like that, Arvel got real mad. He’d seen Aunt Idgie’s big white cat coming in and out of the cafe, and he told somebody that the first chance he got, he was going to go back over there and kill it, to get even with her. And oh boy, when Aunt Idgie heard what he’d threatened to do, she jumped in her car and drove over to Pell City and found him in the pool hall. She went in and told him that if he ever came within twenty-five feet of the cafe or her cat, she’d shoot him.”

  “Wow…did he ever come back?”

  “Oh yeah, he came back all right.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, I was pretty young at the time, but I remember that night very well. And when that shotgun blast went off, it sure scared the hell out of me, I’ll tell you that.”

  1933

  A LOT OF guys at the pool hall over in Pell City had heard Idgie yelling at Arvel that day, which had made him even madder. He wasn’t going to get scared off or ordered around by some damn female. That cat was as good as dead.

  A few weeks later, it was around three A.M. when Arvel, carrying a baseball bat and a knife, came sneaking up to the back of the cafe. He walked very slowly past the garden and the chicken coop. And as he got closer to the back of the cafe, he could see Idgie’s big white cat in the moonlight, sleeping on the top steps. As he crept quietly closer and closer, he began to whisper ever so softly, “Here, Kitty, Kitty.”

  The moment Idgie heard her chickens clucking, she sat up in bed. After she heard them again, she got up and went to the window. She pulled back a corner of the curtain just in time to see Arvel Ligget creeping toward the cafe. She then quietly tiptoed over to the loaded twenty-gauge shotgun she kept by the door, and picked it up. She waited until she figured he was twenty-five feet away, give or take a foot or two, then she kicked open the back door and yelled, “Run for your life, you Son of a Bitch!” She counted to three and then pulled the trigger. After the sudden loud blast, Ruth sat straight up in bed and screamed, Buddy started crying, and all the dogs in town started barking. Soon, all hell broke loose. Lights went on in every house, and people started running out into their yards in their nightclothes, wondering what had happened.

  A few hours later, just as the sun was coming up, Sheriff Grady Kilgore drove up to the back of the cafe, where Idgie and Ruth were waiting. Idgie was now out of her nightshirt, fully dressed, expecting to be arrested and go to jail. Buddy was scared and holding on to her, and Ruth was in tears.

  When Grady walked in, Idgie looked at him.

  “Well…did I kill him?”

  Grady sat down at the table and pushed his hat back on his head. “Naw…you didn’t kill him.”

  “Oh, thank heavens,” said a relieved Ruth.

  “But he’s still over at the hospital. The last time I saw him they were still picking a load of buckshot out of him. What in the hell were you aiming at, Idgie?”

  “His backside, why?”

  “Well, he must have turned around, because that’s sure as hell not where you hit him.”

  “Where did I hit him?”

  Grady laughed. “Let’s put it this way, I don’t think he’ll be fooling around with any more ladies for a while. Maybe never, the way he’s carrying on. Give me a cup of that coffee, will you, Ruth? A little cream no sugar.”

  “Is he gonna press charges against me?” asked Idgie.

  “Oh, he was, but I explained it would be best if he didn’t.”

  Ruth poured his coffee and handed it to him.

  “Thanks, Ruth. I think I convinced him that it might be better for him if he just went on back to Pell City and to not be comin’ over here anymore. I told him I couldn’t guarantee his safety if he did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said you were a crazy woman that should be locked up for the good of the community.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I agreed.”

  Just then the white cat with one eye walked in, jumped up on the table, and started trying to drink Grady’s coffee. Grady quickly grabbed his cup away, looked at the cat, and said, “I tell you what, you sure are one lucky cat. Because if Ligget had caught you last night, you would have been one dead cat today.” Grady took a last sip of coffee and stood up. “Well, I gotta go fill out my report…accidental shooting.”

  A much-relieved Ruth said, “Thank you, Grady.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He went to the door and then turned around and said, “Idgie, do me a favor, will you?”

  “Of course, Grady, anything.”

  “If you ever go to shoot me, give me fair warning first, so I can turn around, okay?”

  * * *

  —

  SHERIFF GRADY KILGORE had known Idgie since they were kids, and he’d seen her almost every day of his life. After he was grown, he’d eaten at the cafe more often than home, which suited Gladys Kilgore just fine. Less cooking for her. But after he had left that morning, Grady was glad that Idgie’d had a little scare, thinking she was going to jail. She was way too wild and reckless for her own good. Everybody in
town knew that Ruth had left her once over her drinking and gambling down at the River Club. If Idgie wasn’t careful, one of these days she might do something else crazy, and get herself in some real trouble. Trouble he couldn’t get her out of. But for now, there was no way that he was going to let Arvel Ligget press any charges against her. He hadn’t told Idgie this, because he didn’t want to encourage her to shoot more people, but Ligget had it coming. Anybody that would try and kill a poor little kitty cat had it coming. Grady was six-foot-four and looked tough, but he had a tender heart.

  * * *

  —

  ARVEL LIGGET NEVER did come back to the town of Whistle Stop. He was too afraid of Sheriff Kilgore. But that day he made a vow that if he ever caught Idgie Threadgoode anywhere outside of town, he’d make her pay for what she had done.

  CAR 6

  Seats 11 and 12

  LATER, WHEN BOTH of them decided they were hungry, Bud and Billy went to the snack bar and came back with prepackaged ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in cellophane. Bud hadn’t ridden the train in a long time, and that tiny little snack bar was a far cry from the lovely old formal dining cars the trains used to have. But he didn’t say anything. He just ordered the ham and cheese and a Coke.

  * * *

  —

  AS THEY ATE lunch, Bud told Billy the story of how he’d lost his arm and his Aunt Idgie had nicknamed him Stump. “I was down about it and having a pretty hard time. She said it was better for me to call myself Stump before anybody else did.” Bud laughed. “She even threw a funeral for my arm. And I went by Stump for quite a while, till my mother put a stop to it. My mother was real proper, but Aunt Idgie didn’t have a proper bone in her body. She was always telling jokes and acting a fool. Everybody knew if you needed a good laugh, she was always up for a good time and always full of fun.”

  By now the train was almost halfway to Birmingham. “It sure sounds like you must have had a lot of fun growing up at that cafe,” Billy said.