The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop

by Fannie Flagg

  Later, after all the Christmas carols had been sung, Dot Weems closed up the old piano. But nobody seemed to be leaving to go home.

  Idgie, who had been missing from the party for a while, walked back in from the cafe kitchen, looked around, and said, “Hey, Buddy, guess what? Santa just came back and left a present he said he forgot to give you. Should I go get it?”

  Buddy looked up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Buddy didn’t know it, but all eyes were on him. They all knew what was coming.

  Idgie came back in carrying a large white box. She put it down and took the top off, and the little three-legged dog jumped out, so happy to be out of the box, she ran around in circles, then she ran right across the room straight to Buddy and started jumping up and down and licking his face.

  Buddy was clearly beside himself with joy and blurted out, “Look, Aunt Idgie, it’s the same one we saw at down at the River Club. And she remembered me!”

  Ruth quickly turned and looked at Idgie, but Idgie pretended she didn’t see her.

  Later that night, after everyone had gone home, Ruth said, “Idgie, I thought you told everyone you found that dog.”

  “I did find it.”

  “Did you find it in Eva Bates’s yard?”

  “I may have. I don’t remember.”

  Ruth knew Idgie well. When she didn’t remember something it was a sure sign that she had done it.

  In the past, Ruth and Idgie had a problem where Eva Bates was concerned. And under any other circumstances, Ruth would have been very upset to know that Idgie had taken Buddy anywhere around the River Club. But when she saw that Buddy was so happy with his new puppy, she couldn’t be mad. Not tonight.

  * * *

  —

  THE NEXT MORNING, a hungover Eva Bates picked up the phone at the River Club.

  “Mrs. Bates, this is Ruth Jamison calling, Buddy’s mother.”

  “Oh…um…yeah?”

  “I was calling to thank you. That was a very sweet thing you did, giving him that little dog. He just adores it.”

  Eva was delighted to speak with her. She had never met Ruth, but she knew all about her.

  She replied cheerfully, “Oh that’s no never mind, Ms. Jamison. I got me lots of ’em. I could tell when he first seed that little three-leggedy thing in the yard, he tooked to it right off from the start. So after the boy left that day, red flags started to shoot out every which a way, and it hit me. Both of ’em had a limb that was goned. So I tole Idgie she could have it for the boy, if she wanted it.”

  * * *

  —

  AFTER RUTH SAID goodbye, she had a change of mind about Eva. Unsavory reputation or not, the woman clearly had a heart of gold.

  (WHISTLE STOP, ALABAMA’S WEEKLY BULLETIN)

  December 28, 1938

  A JOLLY TIME

  ANOTHER YEAR IS almost over, and what a year it has been. Sipsey and Big George really outdid themselves Christmas Day. How so much good food can come out of that little kitchen is just beyond me, and it just kept coming all day long. I counted at least twenty-three turkeys and a lot more pies and cakes. Idgie and Ruth spoil us all. And I’m sure we all agree, Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas if we didn’t spend it at the cafe. I don’t know how those gals manage to wrap that many presents, and decorate so beautifully.

  I especially loved all the shiny red Christmas balls Idgie hung on the deer head above the counter!

  Anyhow, thanks for the good vittles and the good time year after year. And of course Christmas really wouldn’t be Christmas without our annual visit from Santa.

  With Christmas over, New Year’s Resolutions time is almost here again. Last night I started my list, and to my surprise they are the same old ones I make every year and never keep. Oh well, better luck next year. The only one I do keep is to always be grateful for what we have. And as Reverend Scroggins said last Sunday, “A grateful heart is a happy heart,” and, boy, am I grateful that we are living in this wonderful free country of ours. I read the news and it saddens me that so many people around the world are suffering.

  On a happier note, I never saw a happier child than Buddy Threadgoode, Jr. It’s so good to see him smile again. The little dog he got for Christmas seems to have made all the difference to a sweet boy who deserves it.

  Also, Wilbur dropped a bowling ball on his foot and broke two toes, in case you were wondering why he is limping.

  …Dot Weems…

  * * *

  —

  P.S. I THINK we might have some snow tomorrow. Another holiday miracle is afoot. So be on the lookout.

  DECEMBER 29, 1938

  Dear Santa Claus,

  I am writing to thank you for my dog, Lady. I am sorry I didn’t think you were real, but you are, and I love you so much for bringing her to me. She was the very dog I wanted. I don’t mind that she has a leg missing at all. I have an arm missing, and I used to mind but now I don’t. Lady does not feel sorry for herself one bit and neither do I anymore. We have fun and she can jump up and catch a stick. I can throw a ball, too.

  I don’t need anything next year. Thanks again.

  Your friend forever,

  Buddy Threadgoode, Jr.

  P.S. Let me know if I can ever do anything for you.

  SEATS 11 AND 12

  “SO THERE I was, Christmas almost over, and I didn’t get what I wanted, so of course I decided then and there that I didn’t believe in Santa Claus. Then at the last minute Aunt Idgie brings in the very dog I wanted. You know, Billy, life can be hard sometimes. And I sort of think animals are little gifts the good Lord sends to help us get through it. Lady sure did that for me.”

  “What kind of a dog was she?”

  “I don’t know. I guess she was some kind of terrier mix. Just a good old mutt. But she came out of that box and I was never so happy in all my life, except maybe the day my daughter Ruthie was born. Oh, how I loved that dog. She slept with me, ate with me, never left my side for a moment. She was my pal. And whenever I’d get upset over something, she knew it. She would run around barking, acting silly, just to make me laugh. You couldn’t be sad around her if you tried. Always happy to see me. Poor old thing, she stayed with me as long as she could. But even on the day she died, she was still wagging her tail, still happy to see me. I tell you, when I buried her it just about killed me. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it, but that’s okay. Small price to pay for what she gave me. And that’s what you get when you love something that much. Joy and heartbreak.”

  Billy sighed. “I know what you mean about love being a joy and a heartbreak. My fiancée just broke up with me.”

  “No. A handsome guy like you? Why?”

  Billy looked down. “She felt oppressed.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “I asked her to quit her job.”

  “Oh, I see. What does she do?”

  “She’s a fire-person.”

  “A what?”

  “A fireman, only she’s a fire-person. I think her job’s far too dangerous, but she doesn’t. So we broke up…well…she broke up.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a hard one. I see your point…but on the other hand my daughter Ruthie gave up on having a career when she got married, and now she regrets it.”

  “Does she?”

  “Yes, she does. You know, your fiancée doing dangerous work may be hard on the marriage in the short run, but if putting out fires makes her happy, and you love her…”

  “Oh, I do,” he said sadly.

  “Well…it might be best to just go along with it.”

  “Think so?”

  “I do. You want a happy wife. And I’ll tell you something else. I’d sure like to meet her. I never met a lady fireman.”

  Billy’s eyes lit up with pride. “She’s very strong. She
can pick me up.”

  “No foolin’,” said Bud.

  “Yes sir. She can pick me up and run a hundred yards with me slung over her shoulder.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Billy, you never know. Someday that just might come in handy.”

  AS THE TRAIN got closer to Birmingham, Bud started to get excited. He said to Billy, “Could I ask a big favor? Would you switch seats with me? I sure would like to look out the window and try to see Whistle Stop.”

  “Oh, of course, no problem.”

  Bud sat by the window and looked out when they passed by where he thought it should be, but he never did see the Whistle Stop crossing sign, and he was disappointed. Oh well, maybe he would see it on the way back to Atlanta this afternoon.

  * * *

  —

  WHEN THEY PULLED into Birmingham, Bud saw that they had torn down the beautiful old Birmingham terminal station, with the seventy-five-foot glass ceiling. The train stopped at a small, nondescript Amtrak station somewhere downtown.

  They stepped off the train, and Billy walked with Bud to the small waiting room. “I sure enjoyed talking to you, Mr. Threadgoode.”

  “Same here, Billy, and good luck with your studies and your girlfriend.”

  “Thank you, and thanks for the advice. I just texted her and hopefully she’ll answer.”

  After he said goodbye to Billy, Bud sat down to wait. He looked at his watch and realized he had an hour before his train back to Atlanta departed. He might be able to do it, if he hurried. He quickly stepped outside the station and onto the street. Luckily there was a cab letting someone out, and he was able to flag it down.

  Bud got in the cab, saw the driver’s name, and said, “Hi, Pete.”

  “Hello there. Where can I take you today?”

  “Well, that’s just it. I don’t have an exact address. It’s a little town called Whistle Stop.”

  The driver punched up the map on his GPS and looked….“I don’t see it here.”

  “Look near Gate City. You should see Whistle Stop close by.”

  “No, it’s not on the map.”

  “No? Huh. Well, I do know it’s twelve minutes east of Birmingham, but with all the new interstates and superhighways they built, I’m not sure where I am anymore. The easiest way is to follow the railroad tracks east. I’ll recognize the road when we get there. There’s just one way in and out.”

  As they drove through downtown, Buddy looked out the window. “Boy, this place sure has changed. My Aunt Idgie used to bring us over here to the movie theaters when I was a kid, but I don’t see any of them now.”

  “Naw, they tore most of those down a long time ago.”

  As they drove for a while following the railroad tracks, the driver said, “Does anything look familiar?”

  “No…not yet. But it’s somewhere around here.” The driver went a little farther, and about fifteen minutes later, he said, “Should I just keep driving?”

  “I’ll tell you what, Pete, why don’t you park and let me walk ahead a little and see if I can figure out where I am. You can leave your meter on, and if I don’t see anything familiar in the next five minutes I’ll come on back.”

  Pete could see the old man was upset, and he felt sorry for him. He turned his meter off. He would give him some time.

  Bud got out and started walking along the tracks. He had ridden the train to Atlanta and back hundreds of times, but today he was having a hard time recognizing anything. He passed a few falling-down brick buildings, but they didn’t look familiar. As he walked a little farther, he looked down and saw an old wooden sign lying on the ground down below the tracks. He wondered if it was from someplace he knew, something that could help him get his bearings. So he walked down the embankment and turned it over. The sign just said GROCERIES, but no location. He looked around and spotted another old part of the sign about twenty feet away. He went down and kicked it over, but it was blank. He looked for another part of the sign that might have the location written on it, but no luck. He had gone so far down into the woods, he almost didn’t find his way back to the tracks. And when he did, he was all turned around. He couldn’t figure out which direction he had come from, and then realized he was completely lost. All he needed was to fall and break a hip out here in the middle of nowhere. Then God knows what would happen. If he just had his phone he could call somebody. Now there was nothing to do but head back in the direction he thought he had come from and hope to hell he was right.

  Pete the cab driver figured the old man must have found the place he was looking for. The guy’d said to give him five minutes, and he had already waited forty-five and he hadn’t come back yet. He hated to do it but he had no choice, so he started up the car and headed back toward Birmingham.

  * * *

  —

  ALMOST AN HOUR later, Bud was still walking. He had seen nothing but a bunch of woods on either side. He looked at his watch. Oh Lordy…now he was in trouble. He had missed his train back to Atlanta. After a while, he just stopped walking and stood in the middle of the tracks and called out as loudly as he could: “Hey! Hey! I need some help!” He waited, but nobody answered. He stood there for quite some time. Then Bud realized he needed to get off the tracks before it got dark, or he could really get hurt. He looked around. He could make out a few trees down below the tracks on his right, and while there was still enough light, he carefully made his way toward the trees, but the embankment was so steep that he slipped and skidded on his backside all the way down. He got up and brushed himself off, then picked out a big tree in a clearing and sat down on the leaves underneath it.

  He was stuck here. All he could do was wait until morning and hope that nobody at Briarwood missed him who would then call Ruthie.

  “Well, this is a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into. What in the hell was I thinking? This is terrible. I can’t even find my hometown.”

  * * *

  —

  AS THE NIGHT progressed, Bud was thankful it was not pitch-dark. The moon had come up and was pretty bright, but it was getting cold. He could still see his watch if he held it a certain way. Oh, brother. It was only 9:14. He still had a long night ahead of him. Just then an owl up above hooted.

  AFTER THE CONVERSATION with Mr. Merris, Ruthie had called the police and spoken to someone in the missing persons department, who assured her they were checking all the hospitals and that as soon as her father was located or they had any information at all, they would call her immediately.

  Ruthie spent the rest of the night pacing back and forth, waiting for any news. Not knowing where he could possibly have gone was causing her imagination to run away with her. Had he been hit by a car? Had he been mugged and shot, and was he lying somewhere bleeding? As more time went by with no word, she imagined a hundred different scenarios.

  By six A.M. the next morning, when he had not returned, the police issued an all-points missing person’s alert and a photograph of Mr. Threadgoode popped up on the Atlanta Alert Network.

  Strangely enough, it was waitress Jasmine Squibb who worked at the Waffle House who called in first. She reported that she had waited on the man in the photo yesterday morning, and that he had told her he was headed for a train trip to Birmingham and back. She then added that he had ordered ham and two eggs over easy with bacon, and was a very good tipper.

  As soon as that info came in, the Birmingham authorities were alerted and his photo was posted on Ala.news.com and on the local station WBRC-TV, with the caption, “At-risk senior James Buddy Threadgoode, Jr., is missing from his home in Atlanta, thought to have boarded a train to Birmingham. May or may not have one arm. Anyone with any information, please contact the Birmingham Police Department.”

  Luckily, Pete the cab driver saw the alert go across his TV screen in Birmingham and called the police. “I picked that man
up at the train station yesterday, and dropped him off at the railroad tracks, way out past the old Montgomery Highway. He was looking for someplace called Whistle Stop, and the last time I saw him he was walking down the tracks, headed east. I waited as long as I could, but he never came back, so I figured he must have found the place he was looking for. Poor old guy. I feel terrible about leaving him.”

  Within minutes, a team of first responders headed for the railroad tracks and started walking in both directions, with a megaphone calling out “Mr. Threadgoode! Mr. Buddy Threadgoode!”

  After about thirty minutes, they heard someone yelling, “Hey, hey…here I am. Down here.”

  They looked down the embankment and saw an old man sitting under a tree waving one arm at them. He had taken off his other arm to sleep.

  As the paramedics approached him, he said, “I’m awful glad to see you guys. I’m about frozen to death.” Bud tried to stand up but he was so stiff, he needed help to pull him to his feet. And before he knew it he was up the hill and in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket and headed to the hospital.

  When a dispatcher at the police department heard that the old man they found by the railroad tracks had been trying to go home to Whistle Stop, he told his wife, “I’m glad he didn’t find it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s nothing out there anymore but junk and weeds.”