Something Different

[ga flatwoods]

It had been a long cold night. Joseph was starving. It had been a long stint since he sat at Mama's table and eaten a belly full of mustard greens topped with hot pepper vinegar from peppers made in the summers garden. Mama must have been really pissed at dad when she planted them cause they were hot as all tarnations! The cracklin cornbread had been smothered in butter and soaked in milk. The lima beans had been cooked all afternoon on the old wood stove with just enough of bacon from the smoke house to give it a real good flavor and a taste of meat. Times had been hard on the family and meat, especially beef and pork were rare around his mama's table. Maybe a chicken today as it was Sunday. It would be in dressing or dumplings as it had to go around to all seven head. Damn, just thinking about it made his stomach hurt more! Joseph rolled another cigarette and poured the last of the coffe from the pot that had sat on the stonework all night. Thankefully the still had been located in a tucked away washout in the side of a ravine that helped contain the heat a little more than had it been in the open. A fog hung in the air as dawn was cracking and Joseph was sure a frost had fallen during the night in the rest of the valley.
As he sat the coffe pot back on the stonework, he heard voices approaching. He knew it was Pa cause they hadnt tripped the alarms and the dogs were wagging their tails.Joseph was glad to see him as it meant he could go home for a while and get some of Ma's biscuits smothered the remaining ofmsomeof last years syrup from the cane grindings. Thanksgiving was approaching and the supply would again be refilled. Joseph thought for a second on the cane syrup cooking and agreed with himself that it was harder work than working the still. S M A C K! wtf! Jesse had walked up and slapped him across the cheek! Jesse snapped that he shouldn't have been day dreaming so early of a morning while working the still. Apology for the derelict deed was quick in coming! Jesse told his oldest boy to shut up and listen he had sumptin to say. Joesph forgot about his hunger for the minute. When the old man had something to say and announced such, he had learned long ago to stop and listen.
Joseph had been raised in the church going every Sunday when not made to work the still. He would not go today. He would not see that pretty blond haired girl from up the valley that had taken a liking to him. Jesse inspected the still and what had been gathered. He was pleased at the boys night's work. Joseph was about to strike out for home when Jesse snapped at him reminding him he had said sumptin to say. Joseph stood at attention now. Jesse reached in his rucksack and pulled out his Bible. Seeing as how they wouldn't none be going to the church house today, Jesse would do the service himself. He started by taking off his hat, holding it on his heart , and set about to pray aloud. He thanked God for the family blessings and ability to see another Sunday. He asked for guidance in keeping their faith and face pointed toward his and forgiveness for the sins of past and present. To finish up he prayed for the quality of his spirits, protection of his boys, and a good sale to help support of the family in these darkest of days. Amen. Jesse the opened the Bible and read a scripture. It was of the prodigal son. Jesse has purposely chosen the passages as he recognized the look on Joseph's face when he was around "that Smith girl" or her name was mentioned. He witnessed that the son would never have gotten into trouble had he stayed home with the other brother and helped support the family. Joseph heard the message loud and clear. He had never gotten along with his Pa all that well and thought what a hypocrite now stood before him preaching God's word to them on Sunday when they would not be in regular attendance due to having to work the still. Jesse lead a single round of Amazing Grace and dismissed them to go home to do their chores before the rested up for the evening return. As Joseph left he swore to himself that he was gojng to do better for himself and his family, if only one day. His thoughts quickly returned to the buiscuts and cane syrup as he and his three brothers left for home.......

Ga Flatwoods

[Tokoroa_Shiner]

Bravo very good read.

[Bigbob]

GA you have some gift. Thank you for sharing!

[bearriver]

Well... Now I want to know more about this Jesse fella...

[MoonBreath]

Excellent ..

[SoMo]

Ga novel master, what were they running?

[moosemilk]

Great story! Loved it! Please continue!

[WooTeck]

whens the next intallment going to be?

[just sayin]

You got my attention and made my hungry as well, very well done. Thanks much! I too am looking forward to the next chapter.....

[jedneck]

Louis l'amour reborn as a southern gentleman. You have a way with words uncle.

[MichiganCornhusker]

That is wonderful, ga, I swear I feel like I was just there and seen the whole thing. So vivid.

[S-Cackalacky]

A lot goin' on in that short story - relationships, reverence and irreverence. But, you gotta know I was most intrigued by your descriptions of the food - sounds like some of the same fare my dear old Grandma would have laid out back in S. Cack. She was a Southern cook with the extraordinary ability to include the spice of life in her food.

Great job Flatwoods.

[Jimbo]

Looks like that new patch of Gods green earth is inspiring your creative side woods. Nice story.

[Windy City]

Flatwoods Sir you have a gift
Keep em coming

Windy City

[swampdog 2]

FLATWOOODS congratulations on the new farm I LOVE your writing man great stuff

[ga flatwoods]

Thanks for the postive comments guys. I just sat down and started typing, wanted to see something different on here. Hey, guess what? I dont buy my salsa in New York City (reference the tv commercial). Not trending on a fad as others on here asking for technical references for a story line riding the shirttales of the Moonshiners show popularity! You cant breath life into a mannequin nor can you write well of that what is not in your soul.

As far as a second chapter???? Undecided. For now I prefer to leave it all for all those who read to contemplate the many varialbles and possibilities. As with each of our lives, the aspects of those in the storyline are diverse, each with his own perspective of reality and making another day. The closer the life displayed hit to home, the more vivid you can imagine the possibilities of the life outside this small snapshot. Those unaccustomed will see a much smaller picture with limited possibilities of what may or may not fit into the story line. For those folk, I am sorry that you never experienced such other than through written word, movie recreations which are not always correct and rarely truly reflect the reality of the world as it actually was or the rational of the thoughts or actions of the participants, or in a museum somewhere. I have been blessed to see and know first hand, thus the realism along with the gift to paint the picture in words.
Thanks again for the time to read it. It took me thirty minutes to type the words as they came to mind. The story was unedited as it flowed so it was written. Never intended to purposefully creat the tale. Had I tried to do so, it would have been more superficial. Maybe a continuation one day or another chapeter of another book one day down the line.....
Reread my introduction to HD if you need just a little more for now.

Ga Flatwoods

[Jimbo]

Weave it into a book Woods! I'd buy it in a New York second.....

[Halfbaked]

Chapter 2 by GAFlat.
Thats all I got. GAFlat you take it from here. Good Job.

[woodshed]

Well done. Curious to see where it goes.

[S-Cackalacky]

Flatwoods, it does stand well as it is - a day in the life kind of thing with all the emotions that come along with it. Reverence for the mother who probably provides much more nourishment than just the food and irreverence for the father who forces his own ill conceived perception of nourishment down your throat.

Being able to build one thought upon another in such an extemporaneous way is a rare talent. I don't really care if you ever add anything to this story as long as you give serious thought to producing another and sharing it here.

[ga flatwoods]

June 5, 1944
Joseph very carefully and meticulously opened the last received letter for the third and final time in as many days and read it again, very carefully as if the first time. It read:

December 24, 1943
Dearest Brother,
We hope this letter finds you well. Merry Christmas. We wish you were here instead of where ever in the world you are right now. Mama says hello and knows you aint dead causn she aint felt it strike her heart so jus yet. She worries bout you terrible. We all lisen at the radio for words on the war but it dont mean much when they talk bout places we aint never heard of fore. Few boyz from town done went an got themselves kilt somewheres in Europe they says. Sent them home by train they did. Flags over the caskets and all. Sad times. Joseph dont you go and get yaself kilt just to get to ride no train now ya hear? Wes got too much to do when ya get back for all that! Daddy done took sick. Hes bad, coughs hard and has a hard time to breath. Doc says he will get along or he wont. He been drinkin up a lot of honey and drippins! Cant really say ifn it helps any cept for he stays drunk most of da time. Thank God you able to send some $home. Without you we wiuld be starvin! The drought took most the corn fore it even tassled and the crick all but stopped a flowin. What grass did make mite las thru da wintr for da mule. We aint made no drippins cept for Pa in two seasons now. No body got no money to buy anything an we cant get but jus so much sugar. Sho is cold here. We done got three inches fore Thanksgiving this year. We did get some apples , oranges, grape fruits, nuts and candy cane from Aunt Bert as she visited from Florida last week and brought them for us. What a treat it was! I bet the Army feeds ya good don't they? Got to be strong to be in fightin shape!
I got ta go now. Daddy needs attending. May God keep you warm, dry, and safe for a return home soon. We will make a special run whennyou come home to celebrate!
Your brother,
Doug Stillman

PS. That Smith girl you took a fancy to before you left done had a baby outa wedlock. Sho looks like a Stillman man cub ifn I ever seen one! She says she waitin on someone! Mite that be you?

Joseph carefully refolded the letter and placed it back into its envelope. In contrast to the letter, he was cold, hungry, and sea sick. Three days on a Coast Guard Cutter packed like sardines with other men was no fun. He was not meant for a life on the seas never having seen it out of his twenty before a year ago. Now he had seen enough of it. His best friend was named bag, vomit, one! He thought upon the current condition of his dad but was more concerned about Mama and what hadn't been said about her. She was tough but held lots in where best let out sometimes. At least he knew his money was getti g back to them as it probably helped more than him being home! Christmas at home now seemed a foreign concept, something more of a dream than had ever been reality. After all he had seen and done, Joseph doubted he would ever return home again as he knew he could never go back to the life he left and that hard way of living. There was more out there that he was destined for and perhaps one day he would be able to find it.
Why on God's green earth did Doug have to include the PS! The thought of it haunted him! Was it indeed his son? Possible he reckoned. But the only chance has been so dysfunctional and quick! Surely it couldn't be his. However, they had both swore their love for one another despite the feeling of both their families. Again he prayed, "God, ifn that child is mine, give me the chance to go home and raise him as you would have him raised! Amen!"
With those thoughts, Joseph made his last entry into his journal before landing:
June 5, 1944
Aboard ship under Brig Gen Theodore Roosevelt, Jr!
Just left Plymoth, England for France
Big invasion. Many ships, planes, and thousands of men.
May God have Mercy on us All!
I shall call his name Daniel, from the Bible like mine.
Joseph Stillman, PFC

[jedneck]

And again sir, you take us back in time.

[Halfbaked]

Ga Flat I'm gonna change your master Distiller ranking to also say Master Word Smith!

[Bigbob]

I second that! Excellent writing GA, really.

[ga flatwoods]

No history buffs here? What will the next chapter bring?

[corene1]

No history buffs here? What will the next chapter bring?

Next chapter will have a lot of pain , suffering and loss. Invasion of Normandy June , 6, 1944. D-Day.

[jedneck]

No history buffs here? What will the next chapter bring?

My great uncle is buried in Normandy.

[Appalachia-Shiner]

Great story. It sounds sooo real to me, in the backwoods dialect which I heard every day when I was growing up.
Nowadays, everybody has got Satellite TV and folks have lost a lot of their country talk. They all sound liken the newsman on TV. People where I live USE TO sound like Jim Tom Hedrick on the TV show.

[ga flatwoods]

June 5, 1944
Joseph very carefully and meticulously opened the last received letter for the third and final time in as many days and read it again, very carefully as if the first time. It read:

December 24, 1943
Dearest Brother,
We hope this letter finds you well. Merry Christmas. We wish you were here instead of where ever in the world you are right now. Mama says hello and knows you aint dead causn she aint felt it strike her heart so jus yet. She worries bout you terrible. We all lisen at the radio for words on the war but it dont mean much when they talk bout places we aint never heard of fore. Few boyz from town done went an got themselves kilt somewheres in Europe they says. Sent them home by train they did. Flags over the caskets and all. Sad times. Joseph dont you go and get yaself kilt just to get to ride no train now ya hear? Wes got too much to do when ya get back for all that! Daddy done took sick. Hes bad, coughs hard and has a hard time to breath. Doc says he will get along or he wont. He been drinkin up a lot of honey and drippins! Cant really say ifn it helps any cept for he stays drunk most of da time. Thank God you able to send some $home. Without you we wiuld be starvin! The drought took most the corn fore it even tassled and the crick all but stopped a flowin. What grass did make mite las thru da wintr for da mule. We aint made no drippins cept for Pa in two seasons now. No body got no money to buy anything an we cant get but jus so much sugar. Sho is cold here. We done got three inches fore Thanksgiving this year. We did get some apples , oranges, grape fruits, nuts and candy cane from Aunt Bert as she visited from Florida last week and brought them for us. What a treat it was! I bet the Army feeds ya good don't they? Got to be strong to be in fightin shape!
I got ta go now. Daddy needs attending. May God keep you warm, dry, and safe for a return home soon. We will make a special run whennyou come home to celebrate!
Your brother,
Doug Stillman

PS. That Smith girl you took a fancy to before you left done had a baby outa wedlock. Sho looks like a Stillman man cub ifn I ever seen one! She says she waitin on someone! Mite that be you?

Joseph carefully refolded the letter and placed it back into its envelope. In contrast to the letter, he was cold, hungry, and sea sick. Three days on a Coast Guard Cutter packed like sardines with other men was no fun. He was not meant for a life on the seas never having seen it out of his twenty before a year ago. Now he had seen enough of it. His best friend was named bag, vomit, one! He thought upon the current condition of his dad but was more concerned about Mama and what hadn't been said about her. She was tough but held lots in where best let out sometimes. At least he knew his money was getti g back to them as it probably helped more than him being home! Christmas at home now seemed a foreign concept, something more of a dream than had ever been reality. After all he had seen and done, Joseph doubted he would ever return home again as he knew he could never go back to the life he left and that hard way of living. There was more out there that he was destined for and perhaps one day he would be able to find it.
Why on God's green earth did Doug have to include the PS! The thought of it haunted him! Was it indeed his son? Possible he reckoned. But the only chance has been so dysfunctional and quick! Surely it couldn't be his. However, they had both swore their love for one another despite the feeling of both their families. Again he prayed, "God, ifn that child is mine, give me the chance to go home and raise him as you would have him raised! Amen!"
With those thoughts, Joseph made his last entry into his journal before landing:
June 5, 1944
Aboard ship under Brig Gen Theodore Roosevelt, Jr!
Just left Plymoth, England for France
Big invasion. Many ships, planes, and thousands of men.
May God have Mercy on us All!
I shall call his name Daniel, from the Bible like mine.
Joseph Stillman, PFC

[ga flatwoods]

The large conglomeration of ships and men were more than Joseph had ever imagined could have been gathered in any one place before on Earth. Every size and shape could be seen from where his small vesseel was positioned. They steamed forward to their destiny throughout the night in the effort to be there before dawn. In a way, he wished the weather had set the invasion back again, but in another he was sick of being sick, and mentally tired from the foreboding that is inevitable in any sane man's mind before a battle. Indeed, after much mental arguement, he had decided that it would be best to go ahead and get it over with if he had his way. At least, he had the privilege of being on ship with President Teddy Roosevelt's grandson! Now Roosevelt, there was a man who wasn't scared of anything and a great leader so surely the grandson of such a man must have inherited some of his traits.

Even though the weather had been listed as favorable for the effort, it was miserable to the poor Joes being packed like sardines aboard ship and tossed about like a feather in the wind on the rough seas of that "bad on the best of days" piece of coast. Joseph had been quiet as had most of the men, contemplating his life up to this point and what was to become of it in these next few hours. In his silence, his mind slipped back to the hills. There stood his girl, calling out to him, motioning for him to come to her. She held something in her arms motioning for him to come see. Her lips moved but he heard no words. At first he couldn't move but was frozen in time and space trying to soak up all that was home to him and in the recognition of his but once lover. It was a forbidden love, as the Smiths and Stillmens had a long standing fued with much bad blood between the two. These two souls were the exception. Once he felt her presence as one being alone except for the two of them, he began to move toward her with an increasing rate until it was a full out run. He stopped abruptly just as he reached her. What did she have showing him? With reluctance, he looked away from her beautiful face to behold her surprise. My God! There in her arms was a baby, obviously a boy as it was wrapped in blue. As he gazed upon it, he recalled a picture he had seen only a time or two from his mother's cedar chest of a brother of his that had passed away a year before he was born. This baby looked just like his brother! As the thought developed, she handed the baby over towards Joseph for him to hold. Now, the look in her eyes as she surrendered the child over told him that the baby was his. His eyes began to swell with tears as he reached for the child. He could feel the warmth of the swaddling and the beginning of the weight transfer to hold his son for the first time. Just as he was about to take him up in his hands and arms, the drones of the first bombers overhead brought him to a sudden reawareness of his current company. The seas were rough, how had he allowed himself to slip off like that? Within moments from that time, Private Stillman heard the first bombs exploding as the planes dropped their payloads. How far off he wondered? How long before they would be hitting the beach? He didn't bother to wish as his life would be in God's hands soon enough. How long had he dozed? He had no idea.

It was foggy now. He couldn't hear as many ships as previously and sure couldn't see but only one or two that were very close. They had been drawn as one of the first groups to disembark. The ship came to a slow halt and landing craft could be heard coming alongside. The men were readied and finally the order was given to climb over into the landing craft. He remembered the rope from basic training, the way it smelt and felt, now knowing why it was important to learn. The fog was so thick you could hardly see the man in front of you. The large guns had started firing after the planes dropped their loads. Hopefully, if all were to go as planned, the coastline would lightly guarded and the bombers and destroyers would have found their marks. Two landing craft, one from port and one from starboard, cut loose and headed for the beach. Private Stillman was number seventeen port lc number one to head for shores yet unseen due to the fog. It was at this moment that Joseph was proud for his having found religion at his Mama's hand by insisting he and the rest of the siblings attend church everytime the doors were open until they got old enough to work and provide the hard labor required to keep them all fed. He had found Jesus at any early age and asked as the thief on the cross next to Jesus as they both died that he would be remembered this day as one of his own. He prayed for the men around him and those on the other boats, as well as the United States, the Allies, and the successful invasion they were about to embark upon. Men would die today. He knew this. Europe had killed thousands uopn her continent and oceans fighting for both just and unjust causes. So it would be today. He prayed for mercy upon those injured and killed and for the loss he knew would be brought home to the families. All this he prayed in God's merciful name.
The small landing craft was battered and beated as it truded forward in the fog and heavy surf. The shelling had seemed to get farther away somehow but was barely noticeable above the engines and waves. The order was given to make ready...the landing craft hit the sand, the front ramp dropped, then maddness ensued.....

Happy Memorial Day to all of our fallen dead, veterans, and families who lost members during our darkest of times of both war and conflict!

Respectively,
Georgia Flatwoods