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BARKLEY usually closed the post office at noon on Saturday so Jim decided a three-mile hike would be the thing to do. He could taste the beer already. It dawned on him that he had not had a beer since coming to town. This town was starting to change him and maybe that wasn’t all bad.
He must have been stepping lively because, before he knew it, he stood in front of the Supper Club. It was just as Sandy had described it. A one-story building that had many additions to it over the years, the building now in desperate need of paint. It was very apparent that the owner did not spend money on upkeep. He was sure that all the neon lights advertising different beer and wine must have been free because you could see no other signs of any advertising; not even the name of the band. When he thought about it, why did the club need to advertise? He was probably the only person for three counties that didn’t know about the place.
He entered the door and immediately thought he hoped these folks were friendly. A bar fight was the last thing he was looking for under his current agenda. He was relieved when a chubby old man behind the bar yelled: “Welcome stranger! What’s your poison?” By the look of his big red nose it was obvious he liked to drink with his customers.
“Give me a beer.”
“What kind?”
“Whatever you have on tap.”
“You are new around here?”
“Yes, only been in town a couple of weeks.”
“Are you staying long?”
“I could be.”
“Have you got a job yet?”
“Yeah, part time.”
“Are you working at the mill?”
“No, I’m working at the post office.”
“You are that kid that’s been helping Mr. and Mrs. Barkley?”
“Well, I don’t know about the kid part, but I am helping the Barkleys, yes!”
“Don’t get your hackles up. When you are my age anyone younger than 30 is a kid. Why didn’t you say so? Your beer is on the house tonight! It’s all over town how you have put the sparkle in Mrs. Barkley’s eyes and brought back laughter to Mike. Seems you’ve brought ‘em back from the dead. Almost everybody in town thinks they hung the moon.”
“You say almost everybody. Who doesn’t?”
“That can wait until I know you a little better. Here’s another beer. It looks like that one had a hole in it.”
“It looks a little dead around here. Am I wrong?”
“It’s early. Wait a couple of hours and you can meet about everybody from three counties.”
“Any women?”
“Don’t worry. They outnumber the guys two to one. Be careful which gal you saddle up to, these old boys get a little jealous of strangers trying to take their women — if you get my drift. Let me know which one you have eyes for and I’ll make the introduction for you. I owe you that much for what you are doing for the Barkleys.”
He ordered a hamburger and watched as the local folks began to arrive, mostly one at a time. As more and more people began to move in, the noise level rose. He moved over to the end stool at the bar. Someone put money into the jukebox and the music got louder than the noise of the crowd, a few couples moving to the dance floor. As the music picked up in tempo and volume, the dance floor became almost too crowded. He watched the dancers and tapped his foot to the beat when a red haired, freckled-faced beauty approached him saying: “Does the rest of you move like your foot? If so, let’s dance.”
Remembering what the bartender had warned him about, Jim turned around and looked at him. It was hard to believe but he thought the bartender’s nose was redder now than it had been two hours ago. The bartender saw him looking his way and just smiled and winked calling out: “Enjoy your dance.”
After a couple of dances the beauty suggested they sit one out and have a cool one. He was so hypnotized by her green eyes that he would have agreed to walk on hot coals with bare feet just to gaze on her face for two minutes more. When they took two empty seats at the bar, the bartender placed two frosty mugs in front of them without asking.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”? She said to Jim, with a coy look on her face.
“Now why would you say that?”
“Because you can actually keep up with me, dancing I mean.”
“Is that so special?”
“I like to think so. All the guys around here want to get in my pants, dancing aside. Is that what you want?”
Jim had never met such an outspoken woman in all his twenty odd years. Despite the moment, he couldn’t keep his face from a bright red flushed look. He tried to respond but all that would come out was: “Uh, uh, uh, no! I mean not right now.”
She just laughed and as she did so, he was surprised that it bothered him so much. In fact he was thinking: I could fall in love with that laugh ? and that wasn’t far stretched.
After he drunk half his beer and recovered his speech, he asked: “Are you always this outspoken?”
“Only when I want to save time.”
“Save time?”
“Yeah, if you didn’t answer correctly I didn’t want to waste the rest of the night.”
“Did I answer correctly?”
“I’ll let you know after a few more dances.”
No doubt about it. He was in love.
After several dances and as many beers, he had to find the men’s room. As they walked off the dance floor, he told her he had to drain the main and headed straight to the restrooms. The break in the music caused a rush to the bathrooms and Jim quickly found out that his idea was not original. Being the new guy in the bar and unaware that during music breaks everyone had the same idea, he ended up at the end of the line.
Twenty minutes later, he returned to the bar and looked for his dance partner. After scanning every little cubicle he could see and without success, he went over to the bartender and asked: “Where did she go?”
“Who?”
“You know, the lady I was dancing with?”
“Oh, Peggy!”
“Is that her name?”
“Didn’t she tell you her name?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Kid, you sure are slow. She left about ten minutes ago with her girlfriends.”
“Who is she?”
“Well, I think I will let her tell you if that is what she wants. I will tell you she is a school teacher in Jasper.”
The weeks following he spent a great deal of time in the Club and got to know Nick, the bartender, quite well. At one time Nick had been the county sheriff in Fannin County. He had served long and well until one day he had an encounter with Mr. Bob Foster. Nick wouldn’t tell him what the argument was about, just that in the fall election he only received sixteen votes. In the past, he had received every vote? except for sixteen.
The job at the post office was uneventful and as reliable as day follows night... One day Jim was moving some big boxes in the back of the post office when Mr. Barkley came back and asked if he would like to eat lunch with them at the café down the street. Surprised, Jim just said: “I guess so. Yes, I do. Certainly!” When they walked into the café Mrs. Barkley took him around and introduced him to everyone there, including the cooks. He felt like a groom that was being introduced to his new family. The warm reception amazed him. It seemed the Barkleys really liked him. That being to the point, then everyone should.
As they ate lunch, without motivation or trying to stir up memories of the past, his mind went back to a time when he had Sunday dinner with his grandparents. Some of the only good times he could remember in his childhood and early adult years were with them.
The rest of the workday was post office-typical, and he felt warm and appreciated, a feeling he had never felt in his entire life. The Barkleys were real people, loving, forgiving and trustworthy.
In the next couple of weeks the Barkleys took him to lunch with them about twice a week. One day while eating in the café, Tastee Freeze Sandy came in for an ice cream. She waved and said hello. Mrs. Barkley whispered: “That’s such a sad case.”
Jim responded to her that he had heard her husband was hurt in the mill and couldn’t work.
“That’s true, but his getting hurt wasn’t so bad at first because the mill provided them with a disability check. Her husband seemed to be adjusting to his injury and trying to make a new life for himself.”
“What happened?”
“It’s all that Foster son’s fault. He took a few law courses in Atlanta and came back just to advise his father. Apparently he found a loophole on paying disability to poor Ol’ Bill and, I must say, other injured employees. With no more coverage, Bill lost his self-respect and desire to do anything. That Craig Foster is evil, big time. Stay away from him, Jim! When our Michael was in high school, he followed Craig Foster around like a little puppy. That Foster kid was abusive to Michael, down right low-life. I could not understand why Michael would always go back for more. They even went to the city to volunteer for the Army together. Can you believe it? Mr. Bob, who was then the head of the draft board here in Fannin County, warned them if they didn’t volunteer he had to send them out with the next month’s draftees. My Michael joined up the next week. When Craig came back to town a couple of months later he said they wouldn’t take him!”
“Why?”
“We never found out. You read between the lines. Jim, stay away from evil!”
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