“Yes ma’am, we’re on our way,” I said. We left the store, took a short cut through Henley’s pasture and soon we were walking up the lane past the spring. It was getting dark, and we’d planned just to hand Uncle Hugh his groceries and head back to town.
Finally, we could see Uncle Hugh’s little cabin right ahead, and in a few minutes we were on his front porch.
“Uncle Hugh! Uncle Hugh! It’s Richard and John Clayton. Let us in, we’re starving for a drink of that cold spring water,” I yelled. Then we hollered again and finally after the third time we looked at each other.
“Something’s wrong, Richard. Uncle Hugh’s sure ’nough in there, and he’s not answering us.”
“Yeah, what are we gonna do?” I wondered.
“Well, I guess we could walk back to Norphlet and tell somebody. Uncle Hugh may be sick or something,” said John Clayton.
“Maybe we oughta just look in and see. You know he doesn’t have a lock on his door.”
“Okay,” I said. We both slowly walked up to the door.
I knocked real loud and we called out again, but there was still no answer.
John Clayton turned the latch on the door, gave it a little push, and the door swung open. I could barely see in the dim late afternoon light, but I did notice Uncle Hugh’s lamp was out, and it was always lit.
“Uncle Hugh?” I called out as we walked into the room.
“Look, John Clayton, there he is. He’s asleep in his rocking chair―Uncle Hugh, wake up, it’s John Clayton and Richard, and you’ve let your lamp go out.”
Uncle Hugh didn’t move.
“Come on, Uncle Hugh, wake up,” yelled John Clayton.
“Wait a minute, John Clayton. Something’s wrong with Uncle Hugh.”
We walked over to where Uncle Hugh was sitting, and right then I started have this real uneasy feeling. There in his lap was his Bible, and it was opened to Matthew the 25th chapter, his favorite scripture.
I reached down, took Uncle Hugh’s hand, and jerked back. It was cold. Then the thought that Uncle Hugh was dead swept over me.
“Oh my god, John Clayton! Uncle Hugh’s dead!”
“No, no, Richard, he can’t be. Maybe he’s just hard to wake up.”
“Look at him, John Clayton, he’s not breathing!”
We stepped back and for a minute we just couldn’t say a word, and then John Clayton let out a little cry and we both cried as we walked back out the door heading for Norphlet. We ran most of the way, and when we finally burst into the grocery store, where Mr. Echols was just getting ready to close, we could hardly speak.
“Mr. Echols…uh…we’ve been to Mr. Hugh Burns’s house taking…him
groceries…and Mr. Echols…he’s dead…just sitting in his rocking chair…not moving or breathing or nothing,” I finally managed to say.
“Boys are you sure?”
“Yes, sir, and his house was real dark. His lamp had burned out.”
“Okay, y’all go on home, I’ll get some men together, and we’ll go see about Hugh.”
I walked down the highway toward my house just about as sad as I’ve ever been. A few years ago my grandfather died up in Oklahoma, and although Momma was sad I really didn’t know him so I didn’t feel so bad, but Uncle Hugh was different. Me and John Clayton had spent hour after hour sitting on Uncle Hugh’s front porch or in front of his fireplace while he told us stories about when he was a boy.
What are we gonna do without Uncle Hugh? I thought as I walked back home. That was all I had on my mind when I opened our back door and walked in the kitchen where Momma was cooking supper.
“Oh, Momma, Uncle Hugh’s dead. Me and John Clayton came by to deliver his groceries, and we found him sitting in his rocking chair with his Bible opened, and he was dead.” I started crying all over again and Momma rushed over and hugged me real good as I stood there and sobbed.
The next day I went down to the grocery store and asked Mr. Echols about Uncle Hugh.
“Richard, Hugh was dead all right, and he’d probably been dead for several hours by the looks of things. Brother Dover from the CME Church got him taken over to the funeral home in El Dorado, but they don’t know when the services will be held. I know you and John Clayton were real close to Hugh, so you probably need to go see Brother Dover if you want to know when they’ll have the services. Sometimes colored folks wait several days to have the funeral.”
I thanked Mr. Echols and walked back to the newsstand and told Doc and John Clayton.
“Heck, Richard, let’s go get Joe Rel and Billy Ray. They know where Brother Dover lives.
In a few minutes we were in Joe Rel’s front yard yelling for him to come out.
“What you want, Richard?” yelled Joe Rel.
“Joe Rel, we need you to show us where Brother Dover lives. We want to find out when Uncle Hugh’s services are gonna be held.”
“Okay, let me tell Momma I’m fixin’ to go with y’all.”
Joe Rel came out of the house in a few minutes and after a short walk, we came to a small white house near the CME Church.
‘This is Brother Dover’s house, and he’s always home. Y’all just go up and knock on the door.”
“Thanks, Joe Rel,” I said. Me and John Clayton walked up to Brother Dover’s front door, knocked, and in a little bit we heard somebody stirring inside and then Brother Dover opened the door.
“Richard, John Clayton, come in this house; let me get y’all a cold drink of water.”
We stepped into Brother Dover’s house, and while he was getting us a drink of water, I started asking him about Uncle Hugh.
“Brother Dover, you know we were good friends of Mr. Hugh Burns, and we came by to see when his services are gonna be held.”
“Well, boys, I don’t rightly know. You see Hugh didn’t have no money or family so we gotta raise enough to bury him before the funeral home will let us have his body.”
“What?” I’d never heard of nothing like that, ever. “You mean Hugh’s gonna hafta lie there until somebody comes up with enough money to pay the funeral home?”
“That’s right, Richard, and it’s a bunch of money: two hundred dollars. It’s not gonna be easy to raise that kind of money, but y’all don’t need to worry none ’bout that. We’ll get it taken care of, and when we get the money, I’ll stop by your house and let you know so y’alls can come to the funeral.
“Boys, Hugh told me many times how good y’all had been to him, and he’d just be so happy every time the two of you came by for a visit. He called you boys his best friends, and he just loved telling you them stories.”
Gosh, I sure wish Brother Dover hadn’t said that, ’cause I was holding back a cry, but then I glanced over at John Clayton and a tear ran down his cheek. That was it; we both started crying and Brother Dover came over and put his arms around us.
“Boys, don’t cry for Hugh, ’cause he’s in a much better place now, and he wouldn’t want to see y’all upset like this.”
“Oh, Brother Dover, Uncle Hugh was such a good friend and we miss him so much,” I said.
Brother Dover gave me another hug and we talked a little more about what a good man Uncle Hugh was. I felt a little better after that talk with Brother Dover, but I still didn’t understand why they were going to hafta raise money to bury Uncle Hugh.“Shoot, Richard, what if they can’t raise the money and Uncle Hugh just lies there in that funeral home for weeks and weeks?”
“Oh, John Clayton, they’re gonna raise that money. Everybody liked Uncle Hugh.”
A week passed and me and John Clayton talked about it every day. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I walked over to Brother Dover’s house to see what was going on.
“Richard, we’s doing pretty good―got over one hundred dollars in hand, so don’t y’all worry none, we’ll have that money sometime next week.”
I felt a little better about it, but the week passed and still no word from Brother Dover. Something was wrong, so I headed back to Bro
ther Dover’s house for another talk.
“Richard, we’s got trouble. They ain’t no more money out there to bury Hugh. I guarantee you we has hit up everybody, and we ain’t got but another week till they takes old Hugh out to the free cemetery and just puts him in the ground. We won’t even get to have a service with his body. That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, Brother Dover, he was a real good man, and it’s not right to just take him out there and bury him. How much do you need to raise?”
“Fifty dollars more, Richard, that’ll pay for the embalming and just a pine box.”
“Heck, Brother Dover, me and John Clayton will ask our daddies to help out and I’ll bet Doc down at the newsstand will give something.”
“Richard that’d be wonderful, but you only got the rest of this week and its Wednesday, so if you ain’t back here with the money on Friday we’re not gonna get Uncle Hugh’s body for the services that I’d planned on Saturday.”
“I’ll get the money, Brother Dover; just you wait and see.”
***
Well, Uncle Hugh had died right in the middle of all that stuff that was going on down in Flat Creek Swamp, and me and John Clayton decided to wait until the funeral was over to try and talk with the state trooper. We knew that making moonshine was against the law, and we’d kinda fooled around not really trying to turn in the men making the moonshine. Heck, we had to tell the police, and we didn’t trust the sheriff or nobody else; we were only going to tell the State Police. I guess we used Uncle Hugh’s funeral as an excuse to put off calling ’em.
I’ll tell you one thing for sure: Getting that money for Uncle Hugh’s funeral was the hardest thing I ever did. Me and John Clayton begged our daddies for two days, until they finally gave in and each gave us ten dollars. Doc wouldn’t give us but five dollars and Mr. Echols over at the grocery store added another five dollars. We asked everybody we saw but without any luck. It was Friday, right after school, when I counted our money and we had thirty dollars. I slowly walked through town passing the newsstand on my way to Brother Dover’s house when I had an idea. I turned around and went back to the newsstand and when Doc didn’t have any customers I walked up and started to talk with him.
“Doc, you know we’ve been raising money to bury Mr. Hugh Burns, and I sure thank you for giving us the five dollars, but we’re twenty dollars short.”
“Wait a minute, Richard; that’s it. I’m not giving you a cent more.”
“Oh, Doc, I don’t want you to give me any more money for nothing. This is what I want you to do.”
Doc leaned forward in his chair not sure what to expect, but I could see he already had a no on his lips.
“I want you to advance me the paper route money for the next fifteen weeks.”
“No! No! Richard, you and John Clayton already owe me twenty-six, eighty for those funny books, and there’s no way on earth I’m going to loan you another nickel. You know I have a rule about that, and just loaning you the funny book money was against the rules.”
“Yeah, Doc, I know, but let me finish. If you’ll give me the twenty dollars to bury Uncle Hugh then I’ll deliver the papers fifteen weeks for free on top of the funny book money. Heck Doc that twenty-two dollars and fifty cents; you’ll make money,” I said.
I looked at Doc as I finished and he was already shaking his head.
“Richard…”
“Wait a minute Doc, there’s more.”
Doc stopped and looked at me again.
“Doc if you’ll give me the twenty dollars I’ll not only deliver the papers free for fifteen weeks, but every morning, after I finish, I’ll sweep out the newsstand.” Doc hesitated and I added, “I’ll even wash the front windows once a week till I pay you back.”
Well, I knew that would tempt Doc ’cause he really had a hard time sweeping out the newsstand since he was in a wheelchair, and heck, them front windows hadn’t been washed for months.
Doc didn’t say no right off, and I knew I had a chance so I started my faked crying, “Oh, Doc,” I sobbed, “if we don’t raise the money today there’re gonna bury Uncle Hugh in a free cemetery without any service and no marker.” I was really into it now and I was bawling to beat sixty.
I could see Doc was getting upset and sure enough he reached over and started patting me on the shoulder. “Richard, stop crying, I’ll give you the money.”
I stopped as quickly as I’d started and Doc, who probably thought that crying thing was mostly put on, hesitated, but then he shook his head and reached in his cash register and pulled out a stack of ones. He counted out exactly twenty dollars and handed me the money.
“Richard, I’m giving you this money against my better judgment. You had better not forget to sweep out this newsstand, and I want those windows washed today, you hear me?”
“Thanks, Doc, I promise, cross my heart, and hope to die―I won’t forget.”
I stopped by John Clayton’s house to get him and, we ran all the way to Brother Dover’s house, and when I gave Brother Dover the money he gave me a big hug and said; “Boys the service will be at two o’clock tomorrow at the church, and there’s something I hadn’t told you and John Clayton. Hugh had his service all laid out in a little envelope which was stuck in his Bible. He’d picked all the songs and he even selected my scripture. He listed some men that he wanted as pallbearers, and right under that list was y’all’s name with a little note; it said: ‘These two boys are to be honorary pallbearers, and I want them to walk behind my casket all the way to the cemetery. I also want them to have my Bible.’”
“Oh my gosh,” I mumbled.
“Boys, y’all is too little to help carry Hugh’s casket. We got some other big men to do that, but he wanted both of you to be involved, so right before I preach Hugh’s funeral y’all needs to get up and say something ’bout Hugh.”
“What?”
We’re both naturally shy, and just the thought of standing up there in a strange church full of people was about the most terrifying thing we could think of.
“Oh, Brother Dover, surely not; I can’t do that. I’d just die standing up there in front of all those people,” I said. John Clayton said about the same thing and then Brother Dover said, “Now, boys, wasn’t Hugh y’all's friend?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then don’t you think, as Hugh’s good friends, y’all oughta say something good ’bout him?”
“Uh, uh, well, I guess so,” we both said.
“Fine, just make it ten to fifteen minutes, or if you really get worked up just keep on going.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’ll be long enough,” I said.
We left Brother Dover’s house in total shock.
“Dang, Richard, why did you tell Brother Dover we’d stand up there in front of the church and say something about Uncle Hugh?”
“Heck, John Clayton, he made me feel like we’d be real sorry people if we didn’t, and I didn’t hear you say no.”
“Shoot, I can’t do that. Stand up there and talk for ten minutes? Are you kidding?”
“Nope, I’m not kidding, so you better start working up something to say,” I said.
When I got home that night I sat down at the kitchen table and took out my tablet and started writing down good things to say about Uncle Hugh. It didn’t take long to have a long list, and, when I finished, I walked out behind the barn and practiced saying all that stuff. Finally, I thought maybe I had it down.
As it got closer and closer to the time for the service me and John Clayton got more and more nervous, and my mouth was so dry I could hardly swallow.
We walked into the church and one of the usher ladies pinned a little white flower on the front of our shirt and then took us right down front.
As we took our seats, I noticed Uncle Hugh’s casket was right in front of the pulpit and it was open. Uncle Hugh looked so natural, just like he was sleeping, and John Clayton started whimpering and pretty soon he was in a full-scale cry. I couldn’t help it and for a few
minutes we just sat there and cried.
Finally, Brother Dover walked down the aisle and put Uncle Hugh’s Bible right in Uncle Hugh’s open hands. ’Course, it was turned to Uncle Hugh’s favorite chapter, Matthew 25.
The choir filed in, and after the piano played for a little while, the choir started singing and they sang and sang and sang.
Then Brother Dover got up and read something that was all about Uncle Hugh. How old he was and where he was born and on and on, and when he finished he said: “Who would like to say something ’bout Hugh Burns?”
Well, a bunch of people came forward and they talked and cried, and it was so sad that me and John Clayton started crying again and, we couldn’t stop.
I thought things were about over and maybe Brother Dover would just preach and we wouldn’t have to say nothing, but I was wrong.
Brother Dover cleared his throat and smiled as he looked down at us. Then he said, “Here today we have two very special guests at our services, Brother Richard Mason and Brother John Clayton Reed. They’re two fine young men, and they’ve been good friends to Brother Hugh. They’ve been delivering Brother Hugh groceries and keeping him company for the past several years, and Brother Hugh’s body wouldn’t even be here today if these boys hadn’t raised the last fifty dollars to pay for his funeral. Now they’re gonna say a few words.”
Brother Dover looked down and us and made a motion for us to come up front and stand by Uncle Hugh’s casket. We slipped out of our pew and walked to the front. The closer we got to Uncle Hugh the more upset I got. My hands were shaking, I could hardly breathe, and my lips were just a-quivering.
John Clayton got there first and I walked around him and stood right behind him. He had no choice, but to speak first. He cleared his throat a couple of times and finally said: “Uncle Hugh was my good friend and I’m gonna miss him a whole bunch.” And then John Clayton started talking about how Uncle Hugh was always smiling and he never had a bad word to say about nobody. Well, John Clayton had me sniffling, and I could hear some folks out in the church just boo-hooing. Then he started telling how Uncle Hugh got by on a seventy-five dollars a month railroad pension, but always talked about what a good life he had, and how he got his drinking water outta the spring. Well, John Clayton went on for a while longer and pretty soon I couldn’t hold back a big cry. When John Clayton heard me start crying, that was it, and he just broke down and laid his head over on the casket. Oh my gosh, I’ve never heard such a commotion in church. I think everybody in the whole entire church was crying, and one of the lady ushers came hurrying down the aisle to help John Clayton back to his seat.
Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set Page 16
