by Foster, Ron
Hobe for the most part was pretty much generally good natured about all the plotting and scheming of his crew’s personal aspirations as long as it didn’t interefere with the operating of his boat. However sitting around when the wind died doing nothing to further certain business plans as far as they were all were concerned sucked. That and being allowed to be seeking out only things to benefit Hobe’s ideas of his business first were concerned was often times a problem that the not so stable crew griped about. This caused Hobe more than once to say that he was the captain driving the boat and they knew the alternatives of being marooned by its owner a bit too often for good morale. That he seriously meant it was not something anyone wished to try.
“Land Ho!” Randal called out excitedly irking Hobe who had seen it plain as day himself 15 minutes ago.That was ok, his mate was still learning and he had been waiting on how long it would take these unseasoned sailors to get their eyes adjusted to exactly where a horizon actually existed.
“I see it you should call it out as port or starboard though, I reckon we should be coming up on the mouth of the river pretty soon the way the color of this water is looking to me. Salt water and fresh got a way of mixing that might not be as obvious to you all as it is to me. Now you all keep your wits about you and a weather eye out for any buoys or channel markers coming up. Crick, you and Morgan need to get some binoculars out and be ready to glass the shore and the surrounding area for any boats or people out and about.” Hobe declared steering them with a flourish towards what appeared to him to be more brackish water appearing blue green in the distance where the river met the bay.
“I sure hope they got some shrimp for dinner if we are lucky at Miss Bell’s. I ain’t tasted one in so long they sound like a fantasy mirage. Hobe how do you catch shrimp if you don’t have a big net and a trawler to pull it?” Randal asked speculating on marine life he wasn’t familiar with outside of a grocery store.
“I’ve never done it personally but I hear you can do it with cast nets like you use for mullet from what I understand. That’s another thing to remember on our list to trade for if we can find some, Crick. Cast nets come in all shapes and sizes and I admit they do require some practice but they are sort of a must have thing around here for catching bait or eating skillet fish on a regular basis. Mullet for example won’t bite a hook but you can catch a bunch in one cast if you can throw a net well. I know myself a lot about coastal survival that I will teach you all but what we need to inquire about and understand further is subsistence fishing and that can be quite a bit different chore to undertake on a daily basis. Delivering fish and crabs and such for generations to restaurants fresh daily is a talent we need to learn from them tongers.” Hobe said getting closer to the mouth of the river and starting to look for Miss Bell’s Place.
“I agree with you Hobe, spotting good fishing holes in a ocean as big as this ain’t the same as picking a likely one out on a lake.” Morgan said wondering in amazement at the variety of life and the best conditions to seek out certain varieties to catch.
“That restaurant that they were talking about should be about a ¼ mile or so from here. I am guessing it is around that bend up ahead of us with the amount of brown water I see coming into the bay on that far bank. Let the sails out some Randal and we will go slow and tack for a bit.” Hobe said as Randal let out line on the sheets.
“There she be!” Hobe said in his fake Captain Ahab accent from the book Moby Dick they had soon started to grow tired of when he needled them about their lack of seafaring skills.
“And you were messing with Randal about his ‘Land Ho” statement, Hobe. Tell you what when we get back to our end of the lake, we got to have us a pirate’s day or something and celebrate our homecoming and newly found nautical talk to communicate with you!” Crick said with an “Arrrgh Matey!” he remembered from old pirate movies.
“That reminds me, I got to build myself a plank on this sailboat for you all to walk when you are being bad.” Hobe grumbled with a smile towards his not always well mannered crew.
Up ahead they saw the old long rickety dock that looked like it had been newly repaired in many places but as a whole looked pretty shabby with Saul’s boat and two other tonger boats which were moored to it. Further on up the hill they spied a disreputable looking long white building that had formerly been an oyster and fish processing warehouse dating back to lord knows when, which greeted them with a giant hand painted sign nailed to the side of it saying “Miss Bell’s Place” with a local artists rendition of a martini glass on one side advertising liquor for sale and assorted seafood comical shrimps, crabs and oysters partying and decorating the rest of the telltale corners of the plyboard wooden sign.
“Well that’s got to be the place! Lay on the ships bell hard Randal and announce our presence coming in. We don’t need or want anybody getting squirrely and taking any potshots at us by not knowing that we are invited guests today.” Hobe said before leaving the ships wheel just long enough to blow an airhorn he had concealed by his side off in back of Morgan. It got the desired effect of scaring the hell out of him and making him jump but it was all in fun and he received a good-natured smile by him in return for a prank well played.
Since Saul had advised that he had a little bit of that yet to be tasted or rejected hoo haw jack whiskey they needed to take care of a little later on today, they didn’t see any harm in previously getting into the ship’s rum stores and having themselves a tipple or two or three along the way coming here. Their moods were light, alcohol induced spirits uplifted and jubilant and there were many hungry comments made for the past two days that by the time they got done with those two roast goose, geeses, birds? Or whatever that were soon to be served would probably be momentarily going to look like one of them old cartoons where the Tasmanian Devil gets ahold of a turkey and leaves nothing but the bones to look at sitting on the bare table!
To their waiting hopeful ears came a sound of a ringing ship’s bell followed by the deep resonant gong of a church bell in the distance that they hoped meant all was well and they were indeed remembered and welcome.
“Hey there! Ho There! Hello Saul and crew! Lookee there mates and here comes Spoman running to the dock –dang I didn’t know that old man could possibly move that fast.” Randal said laughing while observing an old whitehaired black man in raggedy shorts and what appeared to be a rather new Hawaiian shirt running to great them all the while almost tripping over his big worn-out sneakered feet getting ahead of him before the rest caught up.
“It looks like everyone has dressed for the occasion! I was forgetting it was Sunday, we should of cleaned ourselves up a bit more to come to meet them. It appears everybody’s got on their Sunday best and expecting the same.” Crick said observing Saul and Otis in what appeared to be pretty clean blue denim overalls and white ironed shirts sporting half adjusted bowties.
“That must be Miss Bell standing behind them, you reckon?” Crick said seeing a rather large elderly woman with one of those Sunday go-to-meeting Easter bonnets her generation was wont to wear on special occasions or church meetings. Another different boats crew came around the back of the building to pay their respects similarly nicely dressed as they could be and everyone proceeded down to the dock.
“Hey, Saul! You give good directions, we made it over here just fine!” Hobe called out as Randal threw the line to Spoman after greeting him with a wave.
“Kind of hard for you all to get lost getting over here if you’re only sailing due East until you hit the river mouth.” Saul said smirking before beaming a huge grin and trying to shake Miss Bell off, who was trying to assist the highly independent, half-blind fool down the hill.
“Miss Bell! Leave me alone now, I been walking down to this here pier for well over sixty-five years and I don’t need your grabbing and pawing at me to help me down to the dock. My feets know the way, they know the way just as well as your feets know the way around your kitchen in the dark.” Saul fumed losing his smile while tr
ying to keep her from grabbing his shoulder or holding his hand to steady him, Hobe and crew didn’t know which.
“Ya’ll come on and hurry to catch up!” Saul called over his shoulder. “Them white boys don’t bite but they are looking kinda fierce today with all them guns again!” Saul said chuckling as another Tonger boat crew and it’s ancient captain tried to catch up with his swaggering gait.
“Now Miss Bell, I done told you to quit pulling on my suspender straps! You want something to tug on, reach back there and hurry along Captain Leroy!” Saul said breaking away from the woman once again and going to the pier to start shaking hands with everyone disembarking the boat.
Captain Leroy must have said something crude about what she could grab and instead of Miss Bell helping the old geezer along she whomped him on the shoulder playfully making him wince and wail in mock pain as he grinned at his shipmates from the womans response.
Evidently, somebody must have uncorked a jug or two while they were waiting on Hobe and crew’s arrival because there seemed to be a bit more to their merriment than they were just happy to see the strangers arriving!
“I take it church let out early today, Saul?” Hobe said grinning at Saul who evidently forgot or didn’t care that he had a loosely capped mouth of a pint bottle of something sticking out of the bib of his overalls.
“I told you all we would be sipping a little bit today in celebration for some corn meal and yea, I done been to church and got my blessings today! You be careful about how you refer to that church because it’s quite a blessing in itself around here in spite of it giving Miss Bell the miserys.” Saul warned good-naturedly.
“Get your big heathen self out of the way and don’t be bad mouthing the parishioners Saul, and let me meet our guests! You the one that wanted to talk about how that church is a blessing when you always about cussing somebody in it most days. Hi Captain Hobe, I am Miss Bell and this is my landing and my restaurant. It is sure nice that you and your crew can share a meal and visit with us today.” The woman said as she reached her big calloused hand out to shake with Hobe and meet the rest of the crew who was kind of overwhelmed at so many hands being thrust out in greeting at them..
“Well it’s a pleasure and pleased to meet you Miss Bell! I heard a lot of good things from Saul about you and your cooking! To hear old Saul say it the angels come to sing when you start making biscuits, is that true?.” Hobe said disarmingly with a smile referring to the old black woman’s apparently legendary cooking skills.
“He did? Why that’s a nice thing to say and ain’t you a charmer!” Miss Bell said looking around for Saul who for some reason that was soon made apparent had moved himself a distance away as she leaned over and gave Hobe an unexpected bear hug for the compliment and fussed at Saul for being out of reach to thank him.
Crick and Morgan started giggling to themselves at the sight of the old woman squishing the hell out of Hobe and mussing his hair. It was apparently the mixture of his evident embarassment by the reddening of his cheeks while Randal got a sip of whatever it was Saul had in that big pocket of his overalls and the horrible face he made which got everyone to laughing even more as Crick backed off from having the same fate bestowed on him by turning to Otis for a distracted conversation.
The rest of the crews and bystanders were introduced and after a bit of small talk about the weather and if the fishing was bad or good that Miss Bell loudly announced that they would be cooked to the core more down here on the docks by the sun than those ‘gooses’ she had that needed basting in her wood-fired oven. It was agreed by all that if they didn’t get themselves on back up the hill now they were going to melt in place and that nothing in their yacking about nothing would prevent or deter Miss Bell to seeing to her cooking chores of the feast they all awaited to which the assembly loosely adjourned in a flurry to the coolness of the old oaks surrounding the landing and encouraged Miss Bell to see about her birds and the stuffing that needed tending to..
They were all stretched out in conversation walking about halfway up the hill when the enticing smells of whatever was going on in her old restaurant hit them and quickened their pace enough not to pause any further to partake of the alcoholic swill that Saul was trying to pass off as whiskey .
Murmurs of “Man that smells good!” and “That’s going to be some fine eating” soon ended any interest in small talk or drinking and hurried them towards their destination.
Miss Bell walked out the front of the industrial strength closed doors of her restaurant about 10 minutes later in a red checkered apron that looked like it might have served as the majority of a Italian restaurants tablecloth at one time and told them it was about 30 minutes until dinner would be served.
“Now ya’ll since you are our guests, can go inside where it’s a bit cooler or you can hang out by the picnic tables, it’s up to you.” Miss Bell said to Hobe and crew waving at six or seven picnic tables with a variety of different colored tablecloths and flowers set upon them.
“Bar is closed on Sundays and we eat outside like a church supper.” Saul explained stating that was the community’s policy around here.
“I would kind of like to see the inside of your place before we settle in.” Crick said wanting to get closer to that kitchen where all those marvelous smells were coming from. Also it would increase his chances of getting a nibble or a taste before all the rest of what appeared to be starving humanity would compete for their share of the glorious spread promised to be portioned out.
“Well that’s good and fittin’ Crick ‘cause I was going to drag you in there anyway and let ya’ll meet my nieces and nephews.” Miss Bell said with a flourish of her hat she had begun to remove from her head because of the heat.
“Well lets go see what’s cooking!” Crick said and held the door for Miss Bell to go back inside.
Hobe and crew walked in right after him into the old wooden structure which had nothing more than a finished concrete floor and numerous types of aging restaurant tables and old metal folding chairs scattered about.
“It ain’t much but it’s what serves for the only café or juke joint for twenty five miles around here!” Miss Bell said with a wave that indicated take into account this whole interesting domain of hers.
“Just remember this and we be just fine.” Miss Bell said pointing at a sign over a non-working old-timey jukebox. The sign said “Act like your Mama’s Watching!” to which Crick and crew just grinned and said “Yes, Maam!”
“This here is Neicee and Mary Bob and Rastus.” Miss Bell said as the first of her helpers began to make their way towards her. A young teenage girl dressed in gingham with hair going every which a way from various colored plastic beads on rubberized bands holding the braids poked her head out of the kitchen before her siblings followed her out.
Introductions were made and the grand tour of the kitchen began. Two huge wood-fired Princess model wood stoves with every burner and plate filled while supporting great big steaming pots greeted them and although the aromas were enticing, the kitchen’s heat was soon becoming stifling as Miss Bell started naming off what all was on the menu today.
“Now first off, Hobe your name was it?” Miss Bell Said trying to wrap her mind around just how to pronounce ‘Hobe’ the way he said it awhile back and just what sort of a name it was before carrying on. Names had special meanings for her and those that wore them, things that only she thought she knew.
“Now ya’ll it hurts my soul to tell you this bit of maybe bad news but I used up all that flour and cornmeal you sent over here on mostly making biscuits and cornbread. What happened was all the younguns’ and old folks were hollering at me saying “Miss Bell, make us some cornbread and biscuits!” And then old Saul said ya’lll donated all that flour and such for some homemade dressing to go with them gooses and I got spread a bit thin. Now I tells you right now, I’m a pretty good cook but I ain’t no King David when it comes to dividing up such when it ain’t there and so many people wants things! So see, we kin
d of took us a little vote in this here community as to what we should do and not do with those makings you entrusted us with for supper today. The thing is, first we had to honor ya’ll wanting some dressing and donating towards that expectation then we had to take into acount everybody else wanting some too. Now what’s we ended up with might be a little different than your tongues might have wanted to be tasting but I did make a tiny bit. We have to have us some biscuits, we have to have some cornbread to go with the greens and on top of the list you put down you wanted some fried oysters. Now seein’ that we didn’t have a pound of plenty to do all them chores with individually, we decided on a few compromises that I hope you gentlemen will find tasty. First off, ya’ll ain’t getting no fried oysters, well that’s not entirely true, I managed to save just a little bit of that cornmeal so we might all get to taste one or two apiece and Crick, was it? That’s a funny name to my ears by the way boy,but no offense to you. Saul said you was bragging that you wanted a whole pan of the dressing by yourself! Well, I bet you were just jocking and agree you ain’t no better than the rest of us so what I did was stuff them gooses with cornbread oyster stuffing so we can all have a little taste! I got a small pan of the regular kind though so don’t look all swelled up there Crick I will let you have a extra spoonful or two of. I used up all them dehydrated onions and celery you gave me and every bit of that flour and cornmeal and then some to make up this feast so everybody make do and no seconds and no complaints.” Miss Bell said fussing that she couldn’t put on the dog as she called it for her guests and give them plenty more than they reckoned for.