Biggie and the Devil Diet

by Nancy Bell

  "But he was a kind man. Everybody loved Uncle Eroy— even the animals. Them old dogs would just lay around his feet all day. Even the chickens would come up and set on his knees. Once, I saw a mockingbird fly down and take a chunk of bread right out of his hand."

  "Did he sleep out there, too?"

  "Course not. At night, he slept on a mattress on the floor what my grandmomma had fixed up for him after his bed broke down."

  "Why didn't he go on a diet?"

  "Oh, Uncle Eroy didn't eat that much. Oh, he might have four or five eggs for breakfast with several biscuits and a couple of slices of ham, but he wasn't what you might call a real heavy eater. We all ate like that on account of we worked so hard. No, it was something else that made Uncle so fat. Glands, or something, I expect."

  "Glands can make you fat?"

  "Oh, sure. And sometimes, it's in your genes. You know, like all your family's got the same problem."

  "I never knew that."

  "I know. You just wants to make fun of people, don't you?"

  "I said I was sorry, Rosebud."

  "Okay. So, anyway, every week or so, Miss Marie Guidry from up the road would drop by to pass the time of day with Eroy. Sometimes she'd bring along a cake or some cookies she'd baked. Uncle Eroy loved her something awful."

  "I bet she didn't love him back though— him being so fat and all."

  "Miss Marie was kind and gentle. She loved everybody, so I guess she loved Uncle Eroy, too. But if you mean in a marryin' way, well no, she didn't. Miss Marie was the most popular gal in the parish. She could of married anybody she wanted to."

  "Poor Uncle Eroy."

  Rosebud ignored that remark. "One spring day, Uncle Eroy was settin' on his couch enjoying the morning sun when he got the urge to visit the outhouse. Wellsir, he picked up his walking stick and hoisted himself up off of the couch and, holding on to the porch pillars, he edged himself down to the ground then slowly, slowly made his way down the path to the privy."

  "Is this going to get interesting?"

  "Hush, boy, and lemme tell this. After Uncle Eroy got through with his business and was standing out in the sun again, he taken a notion to take himself a little walk. Just a few steps, doncha know, to see if he could. So instead of going back to the house like he always did, he turned toward the woods that run along behind the privy and looked down the little cow path that led right into them woods."

  Just then a car stopped in front of the house and Willie Mae got out. She came up to the front of the house but didn't come up to the porch.

  "Hey, honey," Rosebud said. "How's Mr. Dorsett and them?"

  "Taking it hard." Willie Mae wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "Law me, I'm tired. I must have cooked for thirty people or more. The whole family and then some were over at that house." She looked at me. "You get any supper?"

  I had just opened my mouth to speak when Rosebud kicked me hard on the ankle. "I, uh— oh, yeah. Rosebud made us some beans and cornbread. It was good!"

  "Fine then. I'm plumb wore out. I'll see you in the morning." With that, she turned and walked around the side of the house to her little cottage out back. After we heard the screen door slam shut, Rosebud continued.

  "'I'll just take mebbe two, three steps,' Uncle Eroy thought. So slowly, slowly, holding on to the privy door, he put one foot out, then another and another, grunting with every step on account of it was such a effort, moving them old heavy legs of his. He got to concentratin' so hard on moving one foot in front of the other that he forgot to look and see how far he'd gone. When he did stop and hold on to a sweet gum tree to catch his breath, he was surprised to see that he'd come a good twenty yards from the outhouse. He was near about to the edge of the woods."

  "So then did he start back?"

  "No. It was a funny thing. Uncle Eroy felt a sense of power come over him. 'I done gone this far,' he thought, 'lemme see can I go just a little bit farther.' Well, to make a long story short, he kept on walking 'til he found himself deep in the woods and tired. That man was plumb wore out. He was scared to sit down on the ground on account of he might not be able to get back up."

  "He probably couldn't," I said.

  "You right," Rosebud said. "Well, before long, he found a dead tree laying across the path, so he just taken a seat on that to rest. Away off, he could hear Grandmomma and them calling for him. Uncle Eroy said he never did understand why he didn't answer them. Something just told him to keep on walking, so after he rested awhile, he got up and commenced putting one foot after the other again."

  "How far did he go, Rosebud?"

  "Oh, he went quite a good little ways. Uncle Eroy walked from St. Martinville to New Iberia and then on down to Jeanerette."

  "Golly!"

  "Oh, that ain't all. He crossed the bayou at Morgan City and kept on walking."

  "How did he eat? Where did he sleep?"

  "Ate whatever he could find along the way: berries, crawfish, caught him a fish now and then."

  "I'll bet he lost some of that weight. Right, Rosebud?"

  "You betcha. By the time he got to New Orleans, Uncle Eroy was plumb rawboney. He was tall, too. Did I tell you that?"

  I shook my head.

  "Oh, yeah, cher, Uncle Eroy would have gone six feet or more."

  "So what did he do next? Go back home?"

  "Nope. He went and got him a job working the docks. He found him a little room to rent and stayed there near 'bout half a year. Made hisself some good money, too. Still and all, Uncle Eroy wasn't too crazy about city life what with the noise and lights, and he said he was gettin' right tired of them smelly old docks, so he took a notion to move on. First, he bought himself a good pair of walkin' boots though."

  "Back home?"

  "Well, not at first. Uncle Eroy figured he had missed a lot spending his days settin' on that couch. He wanted to see a little more of the world. What he done was, he left New Orleans goin' east. What he didn't know was, he was about to get a surprise."

  "What surprise?"

  "It happened just after he'd passed through Slidell." Rosebud took a fresh cigar out of his pocket. "Run get me a cup of coffee, will you?"

  I hurried inside to the kitchen and took Rosebud's favorite coffee mug with a picture of the Dixie Queen on it and poured thick black coffee out of the pot on the stove. It smelled awful. When I got back with the coffee, Rosebud was puffing on his cigar. "What surprise?"

  "He seen a sign, that's what."

  "You mean an omen, like Willie Mae sees?"

  "Naw. It was a sign. It said WELCOME TO MISSISSIPPI."

  "Oh."

  "Well, you see, Uncle Eroy didn't want to go to Mississippi. He figured he ain't seen all of his own home state yet. So he turned around and headed back home, only this time he turned north so he could pass through Baton Rouge, thinking he might like to take a look at the state capital. Then, after he'd seen enough, he cut through the swamp to Beaux Bridge and from there it wasn't but a little way home. By the time the first frost came, he'd done made it back."

  "What's that got to do with anything?"

  "Everything. You see, his folks was so glad to see him, they killed a hog and roasted it over an open fire. The party went on for four whole days with singin' and dancin' and quite a little bit of drinkin' and eatin'."

  "What finally happened to Uncle Eroy?"

  "Oh, he married Miss Marie Guidry and they had seven kids, all girls, before Uncle Eroy fell out of a pirogue, hit his head on a rock, and drowned himself in the bayou."

  We sat for a long time not talking while Rosebud sipped his coffee and smoked his cigar. Finally, I had to ask a question. "Rosebud, was that story supposed to tell me something? Because I don't see what it has to do with those fat girls at the tearoom."

  "You don't?"

  "Uh-uh."

  "Well, what did Uncle Eroy do first?"

  "He decided to take a walk?"

  "Boy, are you thick or something? He had to take that first step is what. That firs
t step took the most courage. Seems to me that's what those girls did when they went to that there diet place. Now Uncle Eroy, he kept right on puttin' one foot in front of the other until he got where he wanted to be. That took determination. Only time will tell whether them girls got what it takes to make it, but you ain't got no call to be jokin' around about them because you ain't got any idea what you'd do in their place."

  "I guess you're right, Rosebud. But I wish Uncle Eroy hadn't died."

  "Him? He was gonna die soon anyway. He was eighty-seven when he drowned in the bayou. Now, get on up to bed. It's past your bedtime."

  I pounded on Biggie's door when I got upstairs, but she wouldn't answer.

  "Biggie," I called "Biggie, are you okay."

  When she answered, I could have sworn she was crying. "Go away, J.R. I'll see you in the morning."

  3

  The next morning when I came down for breakfast, Biggie was sitting at the table drinking coffee. She was still wearing her nightgown and robe. I hadn't seen her do that since she had the flu last winter. Biggie always says she can't think straight unless she is dressed properly for the day. When she looked up at me, her eyes had as many red lines as a Mississippi road map. She managed to give me a half smile then shoved her cup toward Willie Mae for a refill.

  I sat down beside Biggie. "You okay, Biggie?"

  She rumpled my hair. "Sure, honey. Just a tiny little headache, that's all." She shook herself and sat up straighter. "Why don't we have chicken spaghetti for supper tonight, Willie Mae? It's been quite a while since we had that."

  Willie Mae cracked an egg into a saucer and slid it into a pan of simmering water. "You want spinach salad or coleslaw with that?" She slid another egg into the water.

  Biggie drummed her fingers on the table. "You know what I'd really like? I'd like some of that wilted lettuce you make. You know, the kind with hard-boiled eggs and bacon?"

  Willie Mae took the eggs out of the pan with a slotted spoon and laid them on my plate, blotting them off with paper towels. Next she added a slice of country-cured ham and two fat fluffy biscuits fresh from the oven. She set the plate in front of me.

  "Yuk," I said, looking down at my plate.

  "How come you say that?" Rosebud asked. He was spooning down his poached eggs like they were good and sopping up the juice with a biscuit.

  "I was hoping for some gingerbread pancakes."

  "Put some butter on them eggs and they go down better." Rosebud shoved the butter dish toward me. "Uh-oh, there goes the phone."

  Biggie got up from the table and answered the phone at her little kitchen desk. "Hello? Oh hey, Coye…. Um-hmm…. Say what?… Well, sure. We'd love to have her…. Fine…. Okay. We'll see you around two then."

  "Was that Mr. Sontag?" I asked.

  "Yep. He has to take Ernestine over to Longview to the eye doctor this afternoon. They won't be back until late, so they wanted to know if Monica could spend the night with us."

  "Yeah!" I said. Monica and her family live on the farm Biggie grew upon. Monica is my best friend next to Rosebud even though she does only have hair on one side of her head on account of being left too close to the fire when she was a baby. Monica is the only girl in the world I can talk to and that's only because she's so much like a boy. She's not afraid of the devil himself. I know that for a fact.

  About that time the back door swung open and in walked Mrs. Moody. She was dressed in a bright blue pantsuit with a black crocheted hat on her head. She carried Prissy under one arm. In her other hand she had a cloth shopping bag, which she set down on Biggie's desk next to the back stairs. She set Prissy on the floor by her feet and began pulling things out of the bag. Prissy leaned against her ankles, trembling.

  Mrs. Moody dug down into the bag and pulled out a pottery bowl with PRISSY written in blue on its side. "This is her water bowl," she said. "The little darling knows it, too. Just don't bother trying to put her food in this bowl. She won't touch a bite of it." She looked at me to make sure I understood. I nodded. "And this is her Snookums." She took out a faded old rag doll. "She sleeps with her head on Snookums every single night. Oh, and here's her food bowl." It was identical to the water bowl with her name on the side and everything.

  "How am I supposed to know the difference?" I asked.

  Mrs. Moody knit her brows like she was thinking hard. "Well, I hadn't thought of that. They are just exactly alike. I got them over at Marshall Pottery. Here's an idea. Why don't you put her water in one bowl, and if she won't drink it, you'll know that's her food bowl. Well, I've got to scoot. I told Ace Redfearn to be at my front door with his taxi at eight-thirty. Oh, yes, and I've left her bed with her fuzzy blanket on the back porch." She came over and pinched my cheek. "I know I can count on you to take good care of my baby."

  "Yes'm. I guess."

  Mrs. Moody picked up Prissy and set her in my lap. "Now you be a good girl, hear?"

  Prissy growled and I saw that Booger had come into the kitchen and was sitting by the stove licking himself. This is going to be interesting, I thought, and might turn out to be fun. As soon as I made sure Mrs. Moody was gone, I pushed Prissy off my lap. She immediately started in yapping at Booger, who looked at her like she was a gnat and went right on licking his bottom. After a while, I guess Booger got tired of it because, quick as a flash, he reached out his paw and boxed Prissy on the nose, then walked off down the hall with his tail high. Prissy crawled under the desk, lay down, and tucked her nose between her two front paws.

  "J.R., go outside and make sure that pen you built for Bingo is still secure. If it isn't, fix it; if it is, put Prissy out there. Make sure you give her plenty of water and put her bed and a blanket in the little doghouse." Biggie held on to the table when she stood up. "I think I'll just go up and rest a little longer. I didn't sleep too well last night." She looked at me again. "You might want to put Snookums out there, too. Poor little thing; she's going to be lonely for Essie."

  "Yes'm."

  It took me a whole hour to get Prissy situated because the hog wire we'd built the pen out of had stretched in places. I got some wire out of the garage and mended the holes and filled what I hoped was her water bowl. I threw in a couple of Bingo's milk bones along with her stupid rag doll.

  When I got back inside, Prissy wasn't under the desk where I'd left her. Rosebud was still at the table enjoying a second cup of coffee, and Willie Mae had joined him.

  "Did y'all see where Prissy went?" I asked.

  "Nope." Rosebud set down his coffee cup and began cleaning his fingernails with his pocketknife.

  "Don't be doing that at the table," Willie Mae said. "That's nasty."

  Rosebud grinned and put away his knife.

  "Willie Mae, did you see which way she went?"

  "When do I got time to go keeping tabs on a dog?"

  I searched the house for Prissy. I looked under the couch in the parlor then behind the piano. I looked behind all the doors and under all the beds. She wasn't anywhere. I even looked in all the closets and up in the attic. Prissy was nowhere to be found. Finally, I went out in the yard and yelled my lungs out for her. I even checked the neighbors' yards on both sides of the street. No Prissy. Now I was getting pretty worried. Even though she was, to my way of thinking, a poor excuse for a dog, I didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

  It was after eleven when I finally gave up and came back in the house. Biggie, dressed and looking much better, was talking on the telephone in the hall.

  "They want us to come today? That's pretty short notice, isn't it?" She listened for a long time. "Umm… you forgot…. Is Butch going?… He is…. How about Ruby?… Oh, well, I guess. I'll meet you at the square at three then. Okay. Bye." She hung up the phone and saw me standing there for the first time. "Oh, J.R., some of us are invited out to the Barnwell ranch for tea this afternoon. I want you to go along."

  "Me? Why? I don't want to go, Biggie. There's nothing but a bunch of fat girls out there. No guys or nothin'."

  "J
.R., I want you to go."

  "No, ma'am, I'm not going. I got better things to do than tag along after you all the time." I was scared and shaking all over. I had never disobeyed Biggie before, but now was the time to take a stand. Biggie needed to realize that I was a teenager and not just a little kid anymore.

  "It's important to me, J.R." There was a tremor in her voice.

  I almost gave in. It wasn't going to hurt me to go with Biggie. I'd done it all my life and had some pretty interesting adventures doing it. I opened my mouth to say okay when something stopped me, something strong that seemed to be pulling me away from being a kid and into— something else. "NO!" I ran up to my room and slammed the door. I flung myself on my bed and lay there shaking all over. It seemed the walls might come tumbling down on top of me— my whole life might be breaking apart. What was wrong with Biggie? Why had she acted so funny last night? Did it have to do with all those fat girls at the tearoom? How could it? And what was wrong with me? I had never behaved like that in all my days with Biggie and Willie Mae and Rosebud— never ever wanted to.

  I was still trying to figure it all out when I heard a tap on my door, then the door opened and Biggie peeked in. "May I come in?"