Southern Justice
The day her husband left her, Jessie Mae cut off Bubba's balls. Bubba was just the dog, but Jessie Mae felt a lot better.
On that particular day, Bubba had untied himself from the running rope and wandered down to his favorite hangout. Typically, Bubba would spend his time soicalizing with the bitches and chasing the ducks around the pond. Unfortunately for Bubba, he followed the lead of another Chocolate Lab right into Mr. Wiley's chicken house. When he returned home with chicken feathers stuck to his mouth and a smile on his face. Jessie Mae could bare no more.
She grabbed a leash from the front closet and ran down the steps in her best Sunday dress. Bubba, sensing emanate danger, tucked his tail and proceeded to run. The neighbors watched as Jessie Mae's tiny frame chased the 80 pound Lab across all 25 acres. Bubba's undoing was when he slid into a ten foot wide mud puddle, thinking he was safe. What Bubba didn't know was Jessie Mae had a bad day.
With leash in hand and auburn hair flying in all directions, Jessie Mae slid face first across the puddle, grabbing Bubba around the neck. Bubba was a little startled at his owner's strange behavior and tried to vault out of the puddle. Much to Bubba's dismay, straining, she managed to pull the muddy Chocolate down. He made one last attempt at freedom, but Jessie had the lease tight around his neck. All he could do was submit.
Of course, the neighbors knew that Jessie Mae had a bad day, but even at that, were a little surprised by her behavior. Word was all over town that her husband had been seen with another woman at Wal-Mart. The neighbors guessed it was the part about Wal-Mart that had really driven Jessie Mae over the edge. For some reason, hearing your husband is fooling around with some woman in a cheap hotel or a smoky bar room isn't nearly as offensive as finding out he brought her to a leading American institution, and on Sunday, too. Every time Jessie Mae imagined Lonnie and Shirley mingling among the new born babies and Southern Baptists, the auburn haris on the back of her slender neck stood straight up.
By the time Jessie Mae and Bubba returned to the house, the entire family was out in the yard.
Jessie Mae's Daddy was a tall man, towering above most every other man in the county. He had to duck the low limb of the old oak to catch a view of the two, dripping with muck and mud. When he saw his daughter with the leash tight in her hand, he smiled.
"Emma, Jessie Mae's gonna be all right."
His wife looked up at him in amazement, secretly wondering if he, too, had lost his mind.
Nothing was heard at the dinner table except the crunch of Sunday fried chicken. Occasionally, a fork would break through the three layers of red velvet cake, creamy white icing, and extra pecans, clinking cheerfully against the china dessert dish.
Jessie Mae had been subdued since her bought with Bubba. She sat quietly picking at her food, rearranging the rice and peas with her fork.
Perhaps it was the break in silence that sent the pitcher of sweet iced tea crashing to the floor.
"I am going to cut Bubba's balls off." Jessie Mae said matter of factly.
It was at that point that her mother knocked the iced tea off the table and her father began choking on a chicken bone. Jessie Mae's sister, Irene, was the first to regain her composure and speak. She looked hard at Jessie Mae with her determined brown eyes and traces of mud still clinging to her auburn hair.
"And now why do you propose to do that?" She quearied softly.
Jessie Mae's response was quick and crisp, "Bubba has been wandering long enough. It is time that he settles down with a good woman. I believe I am just the woman to settle him down."
Her brother shifted his position, looking uncomfortable.
"Jessie Mae, Bubba is a full blooded, registered Lab. Plus, he is the best bird dog in this part of the country. Don't you think your're being a little hasty?"
Jessie clinched her teeth and spit the words between them, "No, I do not believe I am being hasty. Look at me. How much more do you expect me to endure?"
Ned instinctively dropped his head and focused on the puddle of yellow gravy oozing over the top of his rice.
Now the other male in the house tried to apply reason to the situation. Mr. Farmer cleared his throat.
"Jesssie Mae, I believe what your brother was trying to say is that Bubba's puppies would sell for a lot of money. Bubba is a wanderer by nature, but he is an excellent bird dog."
Jessie Mae looked indignant. "I'm sure Mr. Wiley thinks that Bubba is an exellent bird dog since he has a belly full of his best hens!"
Mr. Farmer looked despairingly at his wife for support, forgetting for the moment that she, too, was a woman.
"Honey," her father pleaded. "It's Sunday."
I can think of no better day for correcting bad behavior."
"Well, I'm not going to be the one who does it, " Ned inserted.
"Did I ask you?" Medusa reared her ugly head, snakes hissing about her. As in the time of the Greeks, her brother turned to stone, sitting transfixed, mouth open with no response.
"No," she continued. "I intend to have Karen perform this particular operation."
"Karen?" Her mother questioned weakly.
"Yes, she is a friend of mine. She works at Paws and Fins on Liberty Highway. She learned how to perform this surgery right after her break up with her first husband." Jessie Mae neatly blotted her lips and folded her napkin in her lap. "She even does house calls; I think she really enjoys her work."
No one spoke. No one moved. Bubba's fate was sealed. Sunday lunch was over.
On that particular day, Bubba had untied himself from the running rope and wandered down to his favorite hangout. Typically, Bubba would spend his time soicalizing with the bitches and chasing the ducks around the pond. Unfortunately for Bubba, he followed the lead of another Chocolate Lab right into Mr. Wiley's chicken house. When he returned home with chicken feathers stuck to his mouth and a smile on his face. Jessie Mae could bare no more.
She grabbed a leash from the front closet and ran down the steps in her best Sunday dress. Bubba, sensing emanate danger, tucked his tail and proceeded to run. The neighbors watched as Jessie Mae's tiny frame chased the 80 pound Lab across all 25 acres. Bubba's undoing was when he slid into a ten foot wide mud puddle, thinking he was safe. What Bubba didn't know was Jessie Mae had a bad day.
With leash in hand and auburn hair flying in all directions, Jessie Mae slid face first across the puddle, grabbing Bubba around the neck. Bubba was a little startled at his owner's strange behavior and tried to vault out of the puddle. Much to Bubba's dismay, straining, she managed to pull the muddy Chocolate down. He made one last attempt at freedom, but Jessie had the lease tight around his neck. All he could do was submit.
Of course, the neighbors knew that Jessie Mae had a bad day, but even at that, were a little surprised by her behavior. Word was all over town that her husband had been seen with another woman at Wal-Mart. The neighbors guessed it was the part about Wal-Mart that had really driven Jessie Mae over the edge. For some reason, hearing your husband is fooling around with some woman in a cheap hotel or a smoky bar room isn't nearly as offensive as finding out he brought her to a leading American institution, and on Sunday, too. Every time Jessie Mae imagined Lonnie and Shirley mingling among the new born babies and Southern Baptists, the auburn haris on the back of her slender neck stood straight up.
By the time Jessie Mae and Bubba returned to the house, the entire family was out in the yard.
Jessie Mae's Daddy was a tall man, towering above most every other man in the county. He had to duck the low limb of the old oak to catch a view of the two, dripping with muck and mud. When he saw his daughter with the leash tight in her hand, he smiled.
"Emma, Jessie Mae's gonna be all right."
His wife looked up at him in amazement, secretly wondering if he, too, had lost his mind.
Nothing was heard at the dinner table except the crunch of Sunday fried chicken. Occasionally, a fork would break through the three layers of red velvet cake, creamy white icing, and extra pecans, clinking cheerfully against the china dessert dish.
Jessie Mae had been subdued since her bought with Bubba. She sat quietly picking at her food, rearranging the rice and peas with her fork.
Perhaps it was the break in silence that sent the pitcher of sweet iced tea crashing to the floor.
"I am going to cut Bubba's balls off." Jessie Mae said matter of factly.
It was at that point that her mother knocked the iced tea off the table and her father began choking on a chicken bone. Jessie Mae's sister, Irene, was the first to regain her composure and speak. She looked hard at Jessie Mae with her determined brown eyes and traces of mud still clinging to her auburn hair.
"And now why do you propose to do that?" She quearied softly.
Jessie Mae's response was quick and crisp, "Bubba has been wandering long enough. It is time that he settles down with a good woman. I believe I am just the woman to settle him down."
Her brother shifted his position, looking uncomfortable.
"Jessie Mae, Bubba is a full blooded, registered Lab. Plus, he is the best bird dog in this part of the country. Don't you think your're being a little hasty?"
Jessie clinched her teeth and spit the words between them, "No, I do not believe I am being hasty. Look at me. How much more do you expect me to endure?"
Ned instinctively dropped his head and focused on the puddle of yellow gravy oozing over the top of his rice.
Now the other male in the house tried to apply reason to the situation. Mr. Farmer cleared his throat.
"Jesssie Mae, I believe what your brother was trying to say is that Bubba's puppies would sell for a lot of money. Bubba is a wanderer by nature, but he is an excellent bird dog."
Jessie Mae looked indignant. "I'm sure Mr. Wiley thinks that Bubba is an exellent bird dog since he has a belly full of his best hens!"
Mr. Farmer looked despairingly at his wife for support, forgetting for the moment that she, too, was a woman.
"Honey," her father pleaded. "It's Sunday."
I can think of no better day for correcting bad behavior."
"Well, I'm not going to be the one who does it, " Ned inserted.
"Did I ask you?" Medusa reared her ugly head, snakes hissing about her. As in the time of the Greeks, her brother turned to stone, sitting transfixed, mouth open with no response.
"No," she continued. "I intend to have Karen perform this particular operation."
"Karen?" Her mother questioned weakly.
"Yes, she is a friend of mine. She works at Paws and Fins on Liberty Highway. She learned how to perform this surgery right after her break up with her first husband." Jessie Mae neatly blotted her lips and folded her napkin in her lap. "She even does house calls; I think she really enjoys her work."
No one spoke. No one moved. Bubba's fate was sealed. Sunday lunch was over.
posted by kade at
9:39 PM
3 Comments:
Now this was good! It would make a great country song. Would make a great memoir.
By
Adam, at 8:39 AM
I enjoyed this text. Unfortunately, I read it in room 200, so I wouldn't let myself laugh out loud and distract the other writers--sure did want to, though.
By
Donna Sewell, at 8:58 AM
I like this. I especially like the part about Wal-Mart. Have you ever read the play "Dearly Departed"? I once played a character from that play, Suzanne. If I remember correctly, her husband cheated on her in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It's a southern thing.
By
Andrea, at 2:36 PM
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