Shaking the Tree

by Keith R. Rees

Chapter 6

  Later, Sooter and I sat against his favorite pecan tree. I was still wearing my Sunday clothes. Neither of us had much to say, but the air was warm and it felt great to feel the sun on my face. I knew Sooter must have known Grandpa for a long time, so I wasn’t too sure what to say to him.

  Propping myself up on a knee, I poked the ground with a stick. I couldn’t see Sooter too well, but I could see from the corner of my eye that he appeared to be napping with his hat pulled down over his eyes like always.

  He was awake. I heard him fumbling around in his coat.

  “What you got over there?” I asked curiously.

  “Come on around and find out,” Sooter said.

  I scooted around on the dirt, in my clean church trousers and all, and I sat next to him under the tree. He had produced a small bag full of pecans and his trusty pliers.

  “Here, let me crack you a few of these,” Sooter offered.

  Here it was in the middle of spring, and he still managed to have some pecans with him. He sure did love those pecans.

  “Man, Sooter,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s April and you still got pecans to crack. You keepin’ a stash or somethin’?”

  “Yep,” he said. “Keep some around all winter long, just for occasions like these.”

  I laughed at him. “Dang, Sooter. You worse than them dang squirrels.”

  He chuckled to himself and let out a long sigh as he continued to crack one pecan after another. “Yep. Nothin’ like a couple good pecans on a day like this.” I nodded in agreement.

  We sat for a long while, just eating the pecans as he slowly shelled them. My thoughts began to drift back to Grandpa and the funeral. After what seemed like hours, I finally broke the silence. “I’d never done that before, Sooter,” I told him. “Been to a funeral like that.”

  “I guess you don’t remember yo grandma’s,” Sooter asserted.

  “No.”

  He cleared his throat. “Nope, I suppose not.” He stopped shelling the pecans and stared into the distance. A slight breeze was blowing across the ground but the sun kept us both warm and comfortable.

  “She was a good person too,” he said. “Two people that treated me good, they was. Mmm-hm, two good people.”

  “You been anywhere else, Sooter?” I don’t know why I asked him that, the question just came out of nowhere. “I mean, you ever gone anywhere outside this old town?”

  Sooter didn’t answer for a minute. He stared out into space, as if he were seeing his past again.

  “One time, I did,” he said, nodding as he remembered his only trip away from Clara. “I sho did, one time.”

  “Where did you go?” I asked, extremely curious all of a sudden. “When?”

  He leaned against the tree, straightening his back a little. “Long time ago,” he began. “I’d been workin’ for yo grandpa for some time already. Things was goin’ good with his cotton and I was just learnin’ how to tend this here orchard. He would always say, ‘You doin’ fine work there, Mr. Sooter.’ That’s all he’d tell me. ‘Bout that time I had gotten sweet on ol’ Bea.”

  I had never heard this story before.

  “Yo grandpa…” Sooter laughed, “he sho knew it too. He knew I was sweet on Bea. One day, I told him I wanted to ask her to marry me. You know what he did? He went right out and arranged a preacher right then and there. Before we knew it, me and Bea was done married up. I didn’t know what to tell him, I was so thankful. Happiest day I ever did have. He and yo grandma was the only ones there, too. I’ll never forget the smile on his face. It sho was somethin’.”

  “Wow!” I exclaimed. “So that’s how you got married?”

  “Mmm-hm. And, after that, he and yo grandma comes walkin’ up to us and says, ‘We wants to give you two a weddin’ gift.’ I said ‘Mr. Havens, you already did so much for us.’ He said a man can’t get married without goin’ on a honeymoon. And then, just like that, me and Bea was off drivin’ yo grandpa’s sedan.” Sooter laughed and shook his head. “I felt like the richest man alive driving that fancy car.”

  “Well, where did you go for cryin’ out loud?” I said, excitedly.

  “He said a friend of his had this beach house down near Gulfport where we could stay for a few days. Bea and I didn’t know what to say, we didn’t even know how to get there. Neither one us had been anywhere. But, yo grandpa insisted. He showed me the map and how to get there. Just like that, we was there in no time. We stayed at that beach house for three or fo days. There was no other place like it on God’s green Earth. Most blessed time we ever did have.”

  He had my full attention. I sat up against the tree and propped my arms on my knees.

  “So, you’ve been down to Gulfport, you and Mrs. Bea?” I asked. “That sure sounds swell. I didn’t know Grandpa had done that for you.”

  “He sho did,” Sooter responded, cracking another pecan with his pliers. “I ain’t been back to a place like that again neither. Sho was a good place.” Sooter relaxed again and stretched his legs in front of him. “Me and the Misses would go walkin’ on that beach for hours. I never seen her smile so much. That beach house was out there all by itself. It sho was. Nothin’ but sand and sea for miles. There was this one particular spot just off the back porch of that ol’ beach house where someone had carved a niche in the side of a slope that run down to the beach. There was a little drop-off from the house down to the sandy beach and that little niche had two small places to sit and stare out at the water. You didn’t even have to stoop down to sit down on it neither.” Sooter was grinning. “Ol’ Bea just loved to set there watchin’ those waves come in and watch as the sun went down.”

  We sat for a while longer, thinking about Grandpa and nibbling on pecans. It was getting well into the afternoon and the sun was no longer shining on us. I thought about Sooter’s story and about how crazy Grandpa would get sometimes.

  “You know,” I spoke up, “Some people thought Grandpa lost his marbles, sayin’ all that crazy stuff. But, I knew better. His mind was still sharp.”

  “Mmm-hm. Sharp as a tack,” Sooter agreed.

  “One time, he said, ‘Son everybody around here thinks I’ve gone off the deep end. But, I’ll be straight with you boy. I’m far from it. I’m not crazy, I’m just bored. They don’t let me do nothin’ around here, so I get my kicks by having fun with them. But, let me tell you, I see and hear all around here.’ That’s what he told me one time.”

  “And, he did too,” Sooter replied. He knew everything goin’ on ‘round here. He sho did.”

  “He told me something else,” I said, solemnly. Sooter rolled his head over and listened. “He said, ‘Son, there’s a world out there. If there’s a dream you want to go after, you go and do it. Your pa means well about this farm, but there is more to life than this farm or that row of trees. There’s a world out there that will leave you in constant amazement.’” I looked over at Sooter, finally understanding what my grandfather had meant. “Maybe that’s why he sent you and Mrs. Bea on that trip way back then.”

  Sooter nodded his head. “Maybe so. Or maybe he knew I just needed a vacation.” He laughed at himself.

  “Oh c’mon, I’m serious,” I said.

  “I know, Mr. Nick. There’s no need to be that serious though. Yo grandpa was right, that’s for sho, but he was just tryin’ to say that you can do more than just be a farmer. Both of you kids. There’s different things out there. You just gotta wanta go out there and find ‘em.”

  He was right. I nodded and didn’t say anything more. I knew Grandpa wanted something better for Phoebe and me, though this was the only life we’d known up to that point. I was just having a tough time accepting that he was gone.

  “’Bout time I be headin’ back, Mr. Nick,” Sooter said, standing. “If yo mama knew you was out here in yo Sunday best, she’d skin you up for sho.”

  I laughed. It was always good to talk to ol’ Sooter. He knew how to make me laugh when I needed it
the most.

  As the spring turned to summer, we tried to move on. It was sad not seeing Grandpa on his bench, watching the martins. Soon, the nestlings were big enough to fly and the colony of martins began to migrate south again. They flew away without ever noticing that Grandpa was gone. Or, maybe they did notice. I guess I’ll never know. Anyway, most of them were gone by early June.

  One Friday evening, I walked into Dad’s office to find him hovering over stacks of paper and binders. “Hey Dad, whatcha lookin’ at?” I asked, as I walked in.

  He glanced over the rim of his glasses and said, “Just some paperwork. Come on in, son, have a seat. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  “’Bout what, Dad?”

  Dad took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “Your grandpa left a will before he passed away. And, he named you in his will specifically.”

  I leaned forward in my chair. “Really?” I asked curiously.

  “Let me read it to you,” Dad said. “It says a few things to me and your mom. Then, down a ways he writes to you. It says: ‘To my one and only grandson, Nicholas. You’ve made me proud with the way you have grown into a young man. You help your mom and dad without ever questioning and you behave like a gentleman, even at your young age. Nothing has made me prouder or happier than to watch you grow up. These past few years, I have been especially proud the way you have handled yourself in the orchard. The pecan trees have always been my pride and joy. Mr. Malloy has always done a fine job helping me with them and I’ve made sure that he has shared his knowledge with you.’”

  It all started to make sense to me now. It was Grandpa who had encouraged Sooter to teach me everything about taking care of those trees.

  Dad continued, “Therefore, I am leaving the pecan orchard, Havens Trees, in its entirety, including the land, trees and harvesting equipment, to my grandson, Nicholas.”

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

  Dad smiled at me, pleased by my reaction. “This is a great honor, son. And, it’s something your mom and I both agree on.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe it!” I said, thrilled. “The orchard is mine?”

  “That’s right,” Dad answered. “It’s a big responsibility. But you already know that.”

  I had never owned anything before, especially something as big as an orchard. I didn’t know the first thing about being an owner. All I knew was how to do the work. I guess my apprehension was obvious.

  “Don’t worry about all the other things involved in it,” Dad assured me. “I’ll continue to manage the orchard just like always. You’ll learn all that in due time.” I was relieved to hear that. He put the paper down on his desk. “Son, what your grandpa said was true. I know I don’t tell you enough but your mother and me are both very proud of you. You do a fine job here and with your schoolin’, you and Phoebe both. I couldn’t be prouder to see how you’ve learned your way around that orchard. You made your grandpa happy and me and your mom too. I just want you to know that.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, smiling and staring at the floor. My dad didn’t talk like this too often, so I didn’t know what to say.

  “There’s something else I want to show you,” he said solemnly. “Now that you’re grown, you need to know about the rest of the farm. This house, as you know, is ours, has been for decades now. But, it’s not worth much, on account of how old it is. The only real assets we have are the smaller equipment and the orchard.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, scratching my head. “What about all the big equipment in the barn and the fields themselves? We have lots of plantin’ fields.”

  “Well, not really Nick. You see, we don’t own all that land we plant on. They call it ‘share-cropping’. Once we sell the cotton and the seed that we harvest, we have to pay the actual owners a portion of our profits. Whatever is left, we use for the next season. Same goes for the cotton picker. We had to get a bank loan to buy it. You understand?”

  “So we don’t own the land or the cotton picker?” I said, shocked. All this time, I thought it was all ours.

  “I’m afraid not,” Dad said. “The only piece of property we own is the land the house sets on, and, your grandfather’s orchard, of course.” Dad put his glasses back on and opened another folder sitting on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he said “this folder contains our accounting sheets that I’ve been keeping over the years.” I arched my neck to look at the papers he’d opened. “This shows how the farm is doing each month. Come take a look at them.”

  I walked behind his desk and Dad let me sit in his chair. “Look at the bottom of the page,” he said. “That total shows you how much money we have to operate the farm on for the rest of the year. As you can tell, we’re not doing too well.”

  I scanned over the sheet, confused by the number at the bottom of the page.

  “But Dad, it says here we got over fifty thousand dollars to operate on!” I exclaimed.

  Dad frowned sadly. I could tell that he really was worried about our situation. I was hoping I was right and he just looked at it wrong. As usual, I was the one who was wrong.

  “Son, when you see a number in parenthesis like that, it means it’s negative,” he said, grimly. “We don’t have that much money in savings. That is how much money that we owe.”

  My heart sank. I had no idea that we were in so much debt. “Well,” I said, scrambling for ideas, “Can’t we just find a way to make up for it? Maybe, we could plant more cotton.”

  “It’s not that simple, Nick,” Dad said. “We’d have to borrow more money if we wanted to plant on more acres. We don’t have the capital to do that. Also we’re going to have to cancel our agreement with the goose farm. We can’t afford to buy them this year.”

  “You’re kidding!” I said startled. I had gotten so used to working with the geese. I’d just taken it for granted. “What are we going to use for weedin’?”

  “We’ve still got some compound on hand that we’ll have to spread row by row. It won’t do the job the way we want, but it’ll have to do for now. If we can harvest a halfway decent yield of cotton and seed this year we should be able to make a clean start by the next.”

  I began to see why Dad had been spending so much time in his office lately. He was trying to figure out any possible way we could make it through the end of the year.

  The inevitable came to my mind. “But, what if we don’t have a good yield this year?”

  Dad removed his glasses again and put his hands in his lap. “If we can’t make these bills with a good crop, then there is a good chance we could lose the farm.”

  I had no idea our situation was so desperate or how much stress it had put Dad under. It was really the first time I had learned what was happening with the family business and how dire things could get and, evidently, were.

  “What about Havens Trees? Will that help us any?” I asked, desperately.

  “The orchard is a good side business, but it won’t be enough to carry us if we don’t have a good cotton yield,” Dad answered.

  This was all very sobering. Being a farmer was tough enough as it was, but the business side seemed even tougher. “Does Mom know?” I asked.

  “She does. But, don’t tell your sister with this, alright? I don’t want her to worry about this kind of thing. She’s young yet. You understand?”

  I nodded. “Yes sir.”

  It was getting late in the afternoon, so I decided to grab my fishing pole and head down to the creek. It was the only way I could keep my mind off the farm’s problems.

  Mosey ran ahead of me, barking all the way.

  “Don’t you go jumpin’ in now, Mosey!” I protested. “You’ll scare ‘em all away!”

  Mosey laid down on the ground nearby. I settled my line into the water and tried to relax. Not too long after that, as sure as clock work, Mrs. Beatrice came strolling by on her evening walk. I knew she wouldn’t say a word to me,
but I still spoke to her.

  “Evenin’ Mrs. Bea,” I said, cordially. Mosey didn’t even lift his head as she walked by on the other side of the creek.

  To my surprise, instead of just ignoring me, Mrs. Malloy nodded very politely and continued on. It was the first time she had acknowledged me on her evening walk.

  I smiled as she continued slowly alongside the creek, not knowing what had finally made her come around. I patted Mosey on the head and turned my attention back to the water.

  I spent the bulk of almost every day that summer in the fields, fighting back bugs and weeds. Without the geese, that aspect of cotton growing was a little bit harder. I’d help Dad with the spraying of the compound pesticide we had left, but we used it sparingly, trying to conserve what remained. The rest of the time was spent walkin’ each row and pullin’ the weeds by hand. I had to keep my face and neck covered the whole time as to not get so sunburned.

  Every evening after supper, Phoebe and I would hit the swimming pond. That is, when Phoebe had warmed up to the idea of going in the swimming pond again. It didn’t take her too long though. I knew she couldn’t stay away from it, despite Mom’s worried looks every time we’d head that way. It sure was nice to get in that pond every evening during that hot summer.

  Saturday nights became my favorite night of the week. Phoebe and I had finally gotten old enough to go the movies with our friends and Saturday night was the best time to go to the local drive-in. Dad would let us take the truck and we’d head down there after supper almost every weekend. Mom and Dad had no idea what pictures we saw, they just knew we weren’t going to be in any trouble hanging out there. The drive-in didn’t show anything too bad, though. It was always some Elvis picture or one of those corny beach comedies, or even a Western. We didn’t care though. We hardly ever watched the whole thing anyway. We just liked to hang around with our friends and relax.

  One night, word had gotten around that the drive-in was showing this new one called The Last Picture Show. Somebody said it was about these high school kids in a dead-end town, just like ours, doing all these crazy things. Apparently, the big deal was that there was a lot of racy stuff in it and soon every kid in town was clamoring like cattle to go see it. It was one of those restricted pictures and they wouldn’t let kids under the age of seventeen see by themselves. I could get in easily, since I was driving the truck and also on account of my height.

  Oh, I forgot to tell you. The past year or so before that, I sprung up like a weed. I was nearly six feet tall by then, so everybody just assumed I was some college guy already. It was a hoot, I tell you.

  So, I’d drive right on in and then help my friends sneak in through a hole in the fence, way in the back of the lot. We would all sit on the wooden fence and watch the flick from there.

  That night, Phoebe stood near the door impatiently, waiting for me to come downstairs. She had this shifty cloak-and-dagger look on her face, as if we were up to no good. Well, we were in a way. Mom and Dad didn’t know about this racy movie, but we were going to see it one way or another. We knew all of our friends would be there, so we had to show up if only to not be left out of every classroom conversation for the next three months. No kid wants that.

  I bounded down the stairs, wearing my favorite blue shirt.

  “Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Phoebe hissed under her breath.

  “Well, where’s the fire, dang it? I’m comin’ already,” I shot back.

  Mom and Dad sat in the family room with the TV on low. Mom was reading a magazine and Dad was glued to the set. It seemed ironic since he never liked to watch TV all that much.

  “Have my truck back here by ten, ya hear?” he said, eyes still glued to the television.

  “We will, Dad,” I called back, running out the door.

  Phoebe and I jumped into the truck and Mosey tried to jump in too while the door was still open.

  “Not this time, boy,” I said. “Go on. Get down.”

  “We have to go pick up Janey,” Phoebe announced.

  “What?” I complained. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

  “I didn’t know before, nitwit. I just got off the phone with her. She needs a ride.”

  “She always needs a ride,” I snapped.

  “She’s my friend, stupid. Now come on, let’s go!”

  “You both gonna walk if ya keep callin’ me stupid!”

  We pulled alongside a mailbox that was about a mile or two from our house. Janey was standing next to it with a light jacket folded over her arm.

  “Hey Nicky,” Janey said as she jumped into the cab. She smiled and slid over next to me. Phoebe climbed in after her, smiling sheepishly.

  It was no secret to every living soul in the county, and the next three counties over, that Janey McDowell had a huge crush on me. To me it was always just a kid crush and I never paid any attention to her when she made googly eyes at me. I figured she’d just grow out of it. To Phoebe’s credit, she never gave me a hard time about it, odd since she rarely missed a chance to tease me. At any rate, I never really paid attention to girls that much until that summer.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” Janey said again, smiling like all get-out.

  “No big deal,” I said, staring at the road. “Phoebs said you needed a ride anyway.”

  “I got a new necklace for my birthday. Do you like it?” Janey asked, still bugging me.

  “Huh?” Boy, she wouldn’t give up. I just kept concentrating on the road.

  “Ooh, that’s pretty,” Phoebe piped up. “Let me see.”

  Janey turned around to show off her new jewelry and Phoebe gushed all over it like a little kid.

  “Don’t you think it’s pretty, Nick?” Phoebe asked.

  I stared at both of them like a madman. Why would I care if her necklace was pretty or not?

  “What? I don’t know,” I said. I was getting annoyed. “I guess so. Geez.”

  I pulled up to the box office and saw that the movie was already playing on the big screen. A guy in a baseball cap looked me over for a split second and gruffly asked, “How many?”

  “Three please,” I said, dropping my voice an octave. Janey and Phoebe both giggled to themselves.

  “That’ll be four-fifty,” the attendant mumbled.

  I pulled some cash from my pocket and started thumbing through the bills. I began to get even more annoyed since I hadn’t planned on having Janey along and I realized that I did not have enough money on me. The attendant was growing impatient. “I said that’ll be four-fifty, pal.”

  Just then, Janey shoved some money in front of me.

  “Here you go, Nick. Here’s my dollar-fifty,” she said, sweetly.

  I looked her in the eye, smiling. My opinion of her had just gone up a notch.

  “Here you go, man.” I handed him the money and we drove inside.

  I parked the truck near one of the last available speakers. Kids and young adults were everywhere. I could tell that word had definitely spread about this new flick.

  Despite how the movie was in black and white, everyone was glued to the screen. I darted my head all around trying to spot my friends, meanwhile the movie showed a couple sitting in an old pickup truck, pretty much like the one we were in. The couple on the screen was having an argument about something.

  “I bet that guy tried to get wise with ‘er,” Phoebe said, smacking on some gum. “Nicky, look at Janey’s necklace now. See how pretty it is?”

  I about banged my head on the steering wheel before turning to face Janey. Getting impatient with both of them, I decided to mess with them a little.

  “Okay, sweet thing, let’s see it baby!” I said moronically.

  Janey’s face turned beet red and she began to laugh.

  Phoebe reached across the cab and slapped my shoulder. “Don’t be such a rube!” she protested. “Sorry Janey. He thinks he’s being funny.”

  Janey was still laughing though. �
�It’s quite alright. I thought it was funny.”

  “Be nice, Nicholas,” Phoebe scolded, sounding just like our mother.

  “Okay, I’m bein’ nice. Let me see your necklace, please,” I said politely.

  Janey turned towards me and pulled her shirt collar just slightly open to give me a good long look at her neckline and a very slight view of her cleavage. I almost turned beet red myself. Janey had a sly, seductive smile on her face. My eyes widened, it was the first time any girl had flirted with me like that. I turned away and looked straight up at the screen. I sure hadn’t realized how grown up Janey had become. She knew exactly what she was doing too. I was a dead man.

  I gulped down some air and thought of what to say. I had nearly forgotten how to speak English.

  “That’s…that’s nice,” I finally stammered. “Real nice neckline. Uh, I mean, necklace.”

  Janey smiled and covered her necklace, her mission accomplished. Phoebe was totally oblivious to the whole thing. I needed some fresh air for sure.

  “I’m gonna go find Asa,” I said, jumping out of the cab as fast I could. “I forgot that I was gonna sneak him in.”

  It didn’t take me long to find Asa, plus some other guys from school, sitting on the fence. Way down near the back corner of the fence, I spotted Little Theo sitting with another colored boy.

  “Hey guys,” I said. They had already snuck in long before we had arrived.

  “Nick!” Asa yelled back at me. “Oh, man. You just missed it. That big fat girl in the truck just took her top off and everything!”

  How did he know? I thought. For a moment I was feeling embarrassed. “No she didn’t, man!” I said, trying to look innocent. A second later, I came to my senses. “What do you mean, fat?”

  “Up there on the screen, man!” Asa said, excitedly. “The girl and the guy were sittin’ and they stopped to make out and all and she plumb took her whole top off and everything. You just missed it!”

  He was right too, we’d missed the whole thing. I began to understand why so many people had come to see this show.

  “That was awesome,” Asa said again, as he fixed his gaze on the screen once more.

  “Who took their top off?” Phoebe asked, as she and Janey came up behind me. I had a feeling they were going to follow me.

  “The fat girl,” Asa answered, in a trance, his eyes glued to the screen, hoping the girl would take it all off again.

  “I don’t believe it,” Phoebe answered turning to glare at the screen too.

  One of the guys jumped down from the fence and approached Phoebe. It was that moron Billy.

  Geez, I thought to myself. Why does he have to be here?

  “Hey, Phoebe. How’s it going?” Billy said, coolly.

  Phoebe glanced at him. “Hey.”

  “What do you want, Colquitt?” I blurted out.

  “Nothin’ butthead. Just sayin’ hi to your sister,” Billy shot back.

  “Well, beat it. She ain’t interested, ya moron.”

  Phoebe didn’t say anything. She had known Billy for a long time but I guess she wasn’t used to guys coming up to her just to say hello.

  Billy decided to do what he did best, picking on me and showing off in front of the girls. The moron.

  “Hey Havens,” Billy said, trying to be heard over the movie. “Why ain’t you on the football team? You too chicken?”

  “Football?” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “What do I care about that? I’m too busy workin’, that’s why. I aint’ got time to be playin’ patty-cake with a bunch of guys in pads.” Janey and Phoebe laughed at that one.

  “Ha! Good one, Nick,” Asa laughed, looking away from the movie for a split second.

  “Shut up, you little worm,” Billy retorted. “What an excuse, Havens. Men play football. That is, if you can take the hits. Some good shots on the field will make you tough like me.”

  “Get kicked by a mule a few times, Colquitt, we’ll see how tough you are.”

  “Whatever, Havens,” Billy continued. “I was there under the lights, man, at the big game last night. I didn’t see you there, ya big sissy. But, I was!”

  “Why?” I asked. “Were you one of the cheerleaders?”

  Billy’s face turned red and the girls both laughed at him at that.

  “You know Havens, you little punk,” Billy said, shaking his fist. “If it weren’t for your sister, I’d sock you one right now.”

  All of a sudden, everyone turned their attention to me and Billy. I didn’t care, though. I had Billy right where I wanted him.

  “My sister?” I said, laughing. “Ah, man. Forget about it. You might as well take a swing at me because she thinks you’re an idiot too.”

  Janey erupted in peels of laughter, unable to contain herself. So did many of the guys watching.

  “Oh yeah?” a humiliated Billy yelled, rearing back with his fist.

  Before he could swing, Asa made everyone stop in their tracks. “Holy cow!” he exclaimed. “Look at that!” Asa pointed at the movie screen and everyone turned to see.

  Up on the screen was Jacy Farrow, the beautiful young blonde in The Last Picture Show. Ol’ Jacy was doing her thing on the diving board at a nude swinger’s party.

  We just watched with our eyes agape as Cybill Shepherd undressed, standing on the diving board, as everyone at the party looked on. Even Phoebe and Janey stared in disbelief. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s face. Every last one of us stared at the screen in a collective trance.

  “This is some movie,” I finally spoke up. I had never seen nudity in a picture before. Before that night, I don’t think any of us had either. We continued to watch the show. Even Billy had forgotten about wanting to punch me.

  Asa’s eyes glistened as he watched the theatrics on the screen. “I’ve got to get me one of those swimming pools,” he said.

  Jacy finished her striptease and jumped into the pool quickly. The nudie show was over just like that and we all slowly came to our senses.

  “Hey,” I said. “Let’s all go sit in the truck bed and watch the rest of this thing. We can get a couple sodas if we scrounge some change together.”

  “Yeah, you just wanta see more of that girl takin’ her clothes off,” Phoebe blurted out.

  “No really. I’m buyin’.”

  Everyone agreed except for Billy. “Forget it,” he said going off by himself. Phoebe watched as he walked away.

  I started to leave before noticing again Theo and his friend sitting alone. I approached them and invited them to sit with us. “I don’t think so,” Theo answered. “We’re fine right here.” His friend just sat there quietly.

  I shrugged my shoulders and let them be. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but Theo and his friend were the only black people at the entire drive-in. I didn’t know why he didn’t want to come and join us, but unfortunately, he had his reasons. I was just too naive to understand them.

  At any rate, that night Little Theo and his friend did get to see what all the fuss was about at the old drive-in. It was quite a show indeed.