Down Home Blues

by Phyllis R. Dixon

  “You would make such a great father,” I had told him when we walked past a couple at Walmart with twins.

  “Let’s not plow that row again. You know how I feel about that subject. Can’t we just be happy with what we have?”

  I said yes, but hadn’t given up, and had more treats other than Gus’ Chicken planned. I smiled as I thought of the night I had planned when I was startled out of my reverie. Everyone was clapping and looking toward the back. I joined them, and turned around too, wondering why we were clapping.

  “Stand up Chub--I mean Carolyn. Let everyone see you,” Raymond said. “My sister is a lawyer, and has agreed to be our legal advisor. They want to pacify us with legalese and new regulations. They are extracting natural gas from shale layers underground with high pressure water, sand, and a cocktail of toxic chemicals that they won’t disclose to anyone. We already have higher respiratory illnesses and earthquakes. Earthquakes in Arkansas! What more evidence do we need? We don’t want fracking regulated, we want it banned.”

  The crowd cheered and began chanting, ‘no fracking way, no fracking way.’ Raymond raised his hand and continued. “The other side has money and lawyers and money and accountants and money and so-called scientists and money and politicians. But we put those politicians in office and we can kick them out. Everyone feels compelled to vote in the presidential elections, but the local election has a more direct effect on our everyday lives. What could be more basic than clean water? We have a voter registration table in the back and we want everyone to vote. Everyone can play a part, if it’s taking someone to the polls or folks like my sister lending their expertise. We don’t have money, but we have right on our side.”

  Raymond had moved back to Eden first and couldn’t sing enough praises about the slower, cheaper, warmer, cleaner, safer pace of living. But according to Raymond, the cleaner aspect was in jeopardy. He was quoting statistics and calling for action. I have a new appreciation for my brother as he spoke to the crowd with the right combination of preacher, motivational speaker, and teacher. Even though we spend most of our time together arguing, I do admire his conviction. Once his mind is made up, he goes all the way. But this time he had gone too far.

  I felt like a Miss America contestant as I wore a pasted smile, but inside I was seething. This is tax season, my busiest time at work. I told Raymond I would think about it. Actually I told him no, but said I would think about it when he tried to play the guilt card.

  “I know we can’t pay you—”

  “Raymond this isn’t about the money at all. Environmental law is not my specialty. That’s a very exclusive branch of the law. ”

  “You’re right, it is a very expensive branch of the law,” Raymond said. “We could never afford an environmental lawyer, but I bet you’re underestimating yourself. You’re relentless when you set your mind to something.”

  “That’s just it. I haven’t set my mind to this.”

  “I don’t see why not. You live here too. You’ll be drinking the same contaminated water we will. I could have stayed in Chicago if I wanted to absorb pollution. Maybe you don’t think generations ahead since you don’t have children, but it’s different—”

  “What does having children have to do with anything? For all you know, I could be pregnant right now.”

  “Carolyn, you’re missing the point. I’m just saying this is more important than us. Daddy worked hard for that land. We can’t let them contaminate it like it’s no big deal.”

  “I’m not saying it’s no big deal. But this may be a battle too big for you to fight.”

  “Well, I can’t give up without trying. Maybe this is why the Lord led me here.”

  “Wow. Too bad Mama didn’t live to see this day – you quoting scripture. I thought you said the Bible was a tool used by the white man to control people.”

  “Just because I don’t believe in the organized church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God. And maybe Mama would have lived to see this day if they hadn’t started contaminating our air. Some people have reactions to the dust that is generated from those trucks and drilling. I know what the doctors said, but I believe drilling contributed to her illness. This is so clear to me. How can I get you to see the connection?”

  “I get it. But this is more than me donating my time to charity. It could be a conflict of interest with my job and I’d have to report my activities to our Ethics Official for clearance.”

  “See, that’s the problem. People get their degrees and their good jobs and they don’t want to help anybody else. Everybody can’t afford bottled water and water filters, and they shouldn’t have to. Daddy would have been better off selling his land for the peanuts that Consolidated Farms offered him a few years back. Once drilling starts, we won’t be able to give it away. This is our legacy. How can you not care?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t care. I’m a newlywed and I work sixty miles from home. I want to spend time with my husband.”

  “Don’t you think Martin Luther King and Malcolm X wanted to spend time with their families? Would you have your job if others hadn’t made a sacrifice? Didn’t you feel that earthquake last month? You know there aren’t supposed to be earthquakes around here. Those companies don’t care about the people here. They just come in, rape and pollute the land and move on. We must stand up for what’s right.”

  “I admire your commitment, but I’m just not in the mood to save the world.”

  “Don’t admire me. Join me. At least say you’ll think about it. You won’t have to attend any meetings. I’ll bring you paperwork every now and then and ask for your advice.”

  “All right. I’ll think about it.” Those were the last words we spoke on the topic. I should have known to stick to my guns, I thought as I sat back down. A lady from Reed County spoke next. She talked about the promises U.S. Energy made and the ruin they left behind. “The paper mill closed and people thought U.S. Energy was a godsend. Gas lease payments and royalty checks replaced mill paychecks and financed new cars, paid tuition, and remodeled homes. After three years, they abruptly terminated the contracts. There was some obscure clause in the contracts that allowed them to do that with just ten days’ notice. People had car loans and mortgages they couldn’t pay. They not only left financial havoc behind, they left a toxic trail of bad water and elevated instances of respiratory illnesses. We brought a class action lawsuit and they settled. Every landowner got fifteen thousand dollars. We now know the cost was much more than fifteen thousand dollars. We would all gladly return the money if we could reverse our decision. I urge you to do all in your power to keep them from coming in.”

  The crowd gave her a standing ovation. Rev. Handley quickly seized the moment by making an impassioned plea for donations. I disappeared out the side door and dashed home. At home, I opened a can of corn, washed and pierced some sweet potatoes and put them in the microwave, and put the chicken in the oven – not a bad dinner for a Monday. I was setting the table when I heard Derrick drive up.

  “Hey, baby,” I said as I met him at the door.

  “Thanks a lot,” he said as he walked past me and threw his keys on the counter.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

  “I didn’t wait for you after the meeting because I wanted to have dinner ready for you. I brought you—”

  “I could care less about dinner and it would have been better if you hadn’t come to the meeting. But I guess that was the only way I would discover you were working on the lawsuit.”

  “Oh, is that it? I haven’t told Raymond I would definitely do it.”

  “Well, you could have fooled me and about two hundred other people that were there.”

  “I told Raymond I would think about it, but you know how he hears what he wants to hear.”

  “Yes, I know that and you do, too. So you should have been clear in your response.”

  “I turned him down, but he made some good points, so I told him I wo
uld think about it. This is tax season and I have enough work already. Besides, I want to spend as much time as I can with my husband,” I said and placed my hands around Derrick’s waist. “Raymond was so excited, I didn’t want to burst his bubble.”

  “I hear concern about your job and your brother’s feelings, what about my job and my feelings?” he said as he stepped away from me. “You know my department is named in the lawsuit, and I’m the one who handled the permits. They’ve been picketing our regional office in Little Rock.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “You would if you had discussed this with me.”

  “I’ll just tell him, no. I’m sure he’ll understand, and even if he doesn’t—”

  “Carolyn, this is about more than the lawsuit. I get the strong black woman thing and I don’t expect you to ask my permission on everything. But I’m tired of being treated like a roommate. You wanted a husband, but I’m not sure you wanted to be a wife. Mamalil’s sink is stopped up. I’m going to change clothes and go take a look at it.”

  I stood in the kitchen, stunned by Derrick’s words. I was furious with Raymond and got my phone to call him and tell him. I had forgotten to turn the ringer back on after the meeting and had missed two phone calls and a text from my realtor in Chicago. My condo didn’t pass inspection and I would have to lower my price or make repairs to sell it. Great, I thought. Next, I called Raymond. It went to voicemail, and I waited while a snippet of Man In the Mirror, played before I left a message.

  Mama always said a couple’s arguments were rarely about whatever they said it was about. This was about more than the lawsuit. I wish I could talk to Mama. I know Derrick and I love each other. So why are things so hard?

  Derrick came in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. With his Cardinals baseball cap and perfectly fitting jeans, I remembered how cute he was. “I think your dinner is burning,” he said as he walked out the door.

  I hadn’t noticed the sharp smell. I threw the phone down and quickly turned off the oven and opened the oven door. I forgot to grab a potholder and burned my hand as I reached inside. The chicken was charred and the rush of smoke set off the smoke detector. What else could go wrong? I shook my hand and fought back tears.

  “If you don't think you've got the blues, just keep living…”

  Buddy Guy

  Chapter 9

  KEEP LIVING

  “I appreciate you handling my car for me today,” Carolyn said as Carl pulled out of the Burger Barn drive-thru.

  “No problem. It’s not like I have much else to do,” Carl said. “Besides, I like driving. I do my best thinking and planning when miles of highway stretch out in front of me.” Carolyn’s check engine light was on and there wasn’t a BMW dealership in Dwight County. Carl was going to drop her off at work then take her car to the dealership in Memphis. He had gotten up earlier than usual and shaved for the first time in two weeks. Perry’s arrest had shocked some sense into him and he hadn’t done any more ‘work’ for Perry. The service department had promised to give him a loaner and his plan was to spend all day answering want ads and completing job applications. Carolyn said since he now had some recent work experience, maybe he’d have better luck finding a job. Carl wasn’t optimistic, but said he’d try.

  By the time he picked his sister up that evening, he felt like he had been chasing his tail. Some of the places that supposedly had openings, said those were put in the paper by their corporate office and they didn’t know anything about it. Some told him they only took applications online and some said they had already filled the position. When he went to the dealership, he was told they had to order a part and Carolyn’s car wouldn’t be ready until Friday. C.W. had a doctor’s appointment in Memphis on Wednesday so Carl volunteered to bring Carolyn to work again, take their father to the doctor, then visit Beverly.

  His ‘to do’ list expanded when Miss Emma’s hairdresser and Aunt Belle’s neighbor asked him to pick up some items at the Costco in Memphis. They offered to pay him. News travels fast and he had two new passengers on Thursday. Friday, he took Aunt Belle to a doctor in Memphis. Her leg was healing very slowly and Cecelia wanted her to see a specialist. He also took two of his mother’s church members to the casino. They were spending the night, which was good since Carolyn’s car was ready as promised on Friday, and there wouldn’t have been enough room in her car. He returned the loaner, picked up Aunt Belle, then Carolyn, then headed back to Eden.

  “I miss working there, but my pants definitely fit better. It’s amazing how much weight you can pick up in a short time,” Carl said as he pulled away from the Burger Barn drive-thru window. “I probably absentmindedly ate three bags of fries every day, then at night took home the food we had left.”

  “They gave me the wrong order,” Carolyn said. “I ordered a pecan cranberry salad, not Caesar, and they gave me barbeque wings instead of hot wings. And there’s an order of fries in here. I didn’t order these.”

  “You want me to go back?”

  “No, they were already slow. It would probably take them twice as long to actually get my order right.”

  “I didn’t see any familiar faces,” Carl said. “Looks like they’ve had a lot of turnovers. When I started working there, that store had the lowest customer service rating in this district. In three months, I helped turn it around.”

  “You were always good with people. That’s why I know you’ll find something else.”

  “I wonder. If I can’t work at Burger Barn, I don’t know where I can work. And people wonder why ex-cons return to crime. How are we supposed to support ourselves?”

  “I must admit, I never thought about the issue until it affected you. But there are thousands of men in your same situation, and something has to be done to help you guys.”

  “People don’t care.”

  “That owner should care. He’s probably getting lots of complaints and has lost business if this is how they serve customers,” Carolyn said as she pulled two fries out of the bag. “No need in letting these go to waste.”

  “So you’re taking a break from the rabbit food?”

  “I’ve eaten more fast food in the last five months than I have in three years and it’s starting to show. By the time I get home, the last thing I feel like doing is cooking. In Chicago, I’d just eat a piece of fruit and skip dinner. But Derrick wants a full meal and a piece of fruit isn’t going to do the trick.”

  “He knows you work long hours.”

  “He’s not demanding about me cooking, but inevitably when he brings in a bag of something fried or pizza, I join him for a bite and end up eating a whole portion. Or else he’ll go to his grandmother’s for a full course meal and bring home leftovers.”

  “She probably doesn’t mind. I’m sure she’s glad for his company.”

  “I know, but this isn’t exactly how I envisioned marriage.”

  “You two seem like a good couple. There’ll be some bumps in the road, but just stick with it. It’s hard to find someone who really cares about you.”

  “Listen to my little brother, trying to give me advice. While we’re talking about relationships, someone’s been asking about you lately,” Carolyn said. “You two break up?”

  “Portia was getting a little too serious. It was time to move on.”

  “What about all that advice you were just giving me? You men – you’d rather jump from woman to woman than be with someone who really cares about you. I don’t understand it.”

  Not that Carl was doing much jumping. He had thought about calling Portia a few times, but decided against it. He wasn’t planning to stay here long anyway. He had saved enough money from “working” with Perry and planned to leave after Father’s Day. No need in getting tied down.

  “Well, it’s actually been nice hanging with you this week. We’ve spent more time together this week than we have in years. Are you coming inside?” Carl asked as he pulled in front of his porch.

  “N
o, I need to get home. I’m going to bake some potatoes in the microwave to go with this salad and wings.”

  “Carolyn, you know I don’t want to get in your business, but are you okay? Riding with you this week, you haven’t seemed like your usual self. You haven’t been quizzing me about Portia, well at least not until a few minutes ago. You haven’t asked about my job search and you haven’t been telling me how to drive. I admit it’s been peaceful, so I’m not complaining – just want to make sure you’re alright. Are you mellowing with marriage?”

  “I’m okay. Just a little tired.”

  “Take a few days off. They’ll get along without you. Spend a few days at home.”

  “Between me and you, I think home is the source of my stress. Do you like living here?”

  “It’s an adjustment.”

  “That’s an understatement. I knew it would be a culture shock, but I thought the warmer weather, proximity to Daddy, slower pace and of course Derrick made up for the move.”

  “And it hasn’t?”

  “There have been a few wrinkles I hadn’t counted on, like living in a shoebox with someone with enough clutter to have two episodes of Hoarders – and our move date keeps getting pushed back. I love Aunt Belle, but sometimes I feel like I’m the one with the broken leg. She won’t stick to her diet, won’t do her therapy, and when I ask her about it, she gets an attitude with me. Then there’s Derrick’s grandmother. Being caretaker to a woman who can’t stand me is giving me an ulcer.”