Warren County Days: Short Stories of Opal Pratt

By Diane Thomas-Plunk

The 1950s were a quieter time with no cell phones, texting, twenty-four hour news or social media. Residents of rural Mississippi had more time for unfettered interactions, although in keeping with the strict, but unspoken, social rules that ordered their lives. And then there was Opal Pratt. In this sequel to the author's first book, Opal, Miss Pratt is encouraged to step out of her reclusive comfort zone and learns more about human kind. Sometimes more than she wants. In addition to new characters, the reader will recognize Olivia and Levi, the former hussy Frances/Francine, the immigrant preacher now with a love interest, and Opal's rejected suitor, Lemuel, who assumes a new and special place in her life. Opal is naïve, courageous, and sometimes tragic. Follow her journey in Warren County Days.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098327613

Book preview

Francine

Lessons

Daddy had gone quietly during his afternoon nap. Opal had panicked. Couldn’t catch her breath, but Momma was in control and undisturbed. She’d seen death before.

Now they sat in folding chairs at his gravesite. Daddy never liked the preacher at the Pleasant Valley Baptist Church where Opal and Momma attended regularly. He called that preacher a dang foreigner, so in a gesture of respect, Momma asked the pastor from that other church to conduct Daddy’s services.

Opal sat next to her stoic mother. On the other side was Momma’s younger sister, Aunt Bella. Her two daughters, Ella and Stella Ann, were somewhere near, examining interesting grave monuments. There were some of Daddy’s odd family members, old friends from the shoe factory, and a few of his Friday night drinking buddies. Straight across from Momma, Opal, and Bella was a group of mourners from that other Baptist church. The Pratts didn’t really know them, but they looked sad. They were the folks who dressed up in their best and came out for every wedding, baptism, and funeral. Surely they wanted to support those families, but there also were usually receptions with ample food that followed the events.

The other pastor droned on until Opal overcame her grief and became downright bored, though she choked up when tradition caused the family to toss clumps of dirt on top of Daddy’s coffin, which had just been lowered into the unforgiving ground. There seemed to be no point in that, only cruelty.

Back at Momma’s house, there was no reception. It was all the other church could do to get through the service for a backslider. On the other hand, good women from the Pleasant Valley church delivered casseroles and desserts. Southern church events of any kind always called for casseroles. No one else stopped by.

After a soundless family meal, Aunt Bella, Ella, and Stella Ann brought in their overnight bags.

Daughter, said Momma, you need to sleep on the davenport tonight. Your cousins will take your bed, and Sister will sleep with me. It won’t feel so lonely. You girls clean up the kitchen now. My sister and I are settin’ a spell.

The cousins had nothing to say, but swung into action before Opal knew what to think or do.

The sisters sat next to each other in the gray living room that mirrored the hollow place in Momma’s heart.

Sister, Bella asked tenderly, will y’all be all right? You know, with money?

Tight, but sure we will. We still get the old man’s pension. We’ll make do, but it would have helped if Opal had kept her job at the shoe factory. She just up and quit—didn’t even quit, just left—and took to bed. Nothin’ said to nobody. She stayed home from then on. She’s always been a bit peculiar, don’t you think?

Sister, haven’t you been payin’ any mind to your only daughter? You practically locked her up in this house. Didn’t let her do nothin’. Didn’t let her grow up normal. I know you lost the other babies to one thing or another, and my heart is sad for you. I know you desperately needed to keep this one safe, but you held her too close, Sister, so don’t go complainin’ about her shyness and awkwardness. You ought to let me take her home with me. My girls would get her normal pretty fast.

Never mind. Opal stayed home like a good girl. I ain’t talkin’ about that no more. You ain’t leavin’ till tomorrow, right?

Yeah. In the morning.

Go later.

Why? The church ladies brought out enough food for a week. You’ve got a pension, you have your daughter, and your husband’s in the ground. What else might there be?

Opal. I need help with Opal. I need more help from her. She may not work, but she needs to start doin’ the drivin’ for me. I never did much of it, and I’m just comin’ up old. I need you to teach her to drive. I can’t do it. She gets so nervous with me that I’d surely have a come apart.

You want her to drive that old pickup?

You might need to stay an extra day, Bella. You need to drive that old truck into town and make a trade for a reg’lar car. That’s what’s needed.

Do you want me to butter your toast for you too, big sister?

Don’ smart off to me, Bella. I don’t never ask you for nothin’. You should do this for me before I die.

Oh, Lord have mercy! All this pity just cuz you were born first?

Bella stomped into the kitchen not even a stone’s throw away. Girls, we’re stayin’ an extra day. They groaned. Ella, I’ll need you to take a drive with me in the mornin’.

Yes, ma’am. Bella’s girls rolled their eyes at each other. Opal understood that it meant one more night on the davenport. She was older than the other girls. They should have been on pallets on the living room floor. She was nearly twenty and deserved the respect of having the bed.

In the night, Opal squeezed herself onto the sofa. Momma said she was pleasingly plump; Opal knew there was just too much of her. She wished for more room on the sofa and for her daddy. He never said much, but she knew he loved her. She could hear her cousins giggling in her bedroom. She could hear Momma and Aunt Bella whispering. She was alone. Felt like she always had been. Opal found sleep just before dawn.

After breakfast the next morning, Bella found Opal in the yard looking up at one of the pin oak trees.

Whatcha see up there? asked Bella.

It’s what I don’t see now. There’s a nest up there. See? I saw the mama bird sitting in there a lot, and then the eggs must have hatched. The mama and daddy birds were always flying back and forth, surely finding food and feeding their babies. Then the mama and daddy birds quit coming, and I didn’t see any crushed eggs on the ground like you sometimes do. So I keep watching to see the baby birds, but I don’t see them.

Aunt Bella spoke softly. They’ve flown away, Opal. That’s what happens. The babies grow up. Get all their feathers, and then they fly away cuz they’re grown. It’s the way.

Opal stood statue-like, still looking at the nest. I knew that. I guess I just wanted to see them little before they went.

Bella patted Opal’s back. We have work to do, niece. Your momma wants me to teach you to drive.

Momma drives to town for groceries and such. I carry the bags in and put things away. Why do I have to drive too?

Your mom’s growin’ old, if you haven’t noticed. She may be here a long time, but you need to help more now. You need to do the drivin’. We’ll start the job on your dad’s old pickup, but we’ll get somethin’ else and that’ll be easier. Come on. Aunt Bella jingled the truck keys at Opal and started walking away.

This is how you start it. Aunt Bella explained the three pedals on the floor and the pullout rod and handle of the emergency brake on the left. She described the imaginary H positioning of the gears she’d need to actually drive a vehicle.

Now I’m gonna start it. Watch and pay attention. Always, always push in the clutch first. Turn the key in the ignition. Put your right foot on the brake pedal, then turn this handle to let off the emergency brake. You already have the clutch in, and you see it’s in first gear, so now you’re ready to drive. How ‘bout that! You can hear the engine rumbling. How ‘bout that, Opal!

Opal looked at Bella with tears welling in her eyes. I can’t do this.

Yes, you can, and yes, you will. Now I’m turnin’ it off. She engaged the clutch and turned off the ignition before pulling up the emergency brake. Now trade places with me and don’t say a word.

They each walked around the front of the truck and climbed in the opposite side. Opal sat, staring at all the dials and gauges that were so numerous and foreign. She’d never paid attention to them when she was a passenger.

Okay, let’s get started, said Aunt Bella. This here will be the easiest part.

Opal disengaged the emergency brake and turned the key in the ignition. The truck sputtered and lurched forward. Opal screamed and jumped out of the vehicle as it died. She raced toward the front porch, but as she got there, she made a quick turn and ran around the house to the backyard.

Bella yelled after her, Always use the clutch!

More exasperated than she thought she’d be, Bella followed Opal around the house, shaking her head. Okay, girl, here’s what we’re fixin’ to do. I’m goin’ inside to get Ella, and we’re gonna take the truck and my car into town to make a trade for a used car. We’re takin’ both vehicles in case I can’t bring the trade home today. I want to trade even, so it won’t be much of a car. Maybe my sister can give me some money to help out with the trade. It’ll be y’all’s car, after all. While we’re gone, you sit out here on the back steps and get yourself together from this hissy fit and then go inside to get lunch. It won’t do well for you to tell your momma what’s happened. You just think it over and be ready to learn when I get back. You’re pretty grown, and this is somethin’ you’re gonna have to do. Get your mind right, and we’ll do it when I return.

There was no patience or sympathy in Bella’s voice. Aunt Bella was taking Ella to town to drive one of the vehicles, so clearly she already knew how to drive. That was probably why the cousins got the bed and Opal was on the sofa. Opal got mad, and that stiffened her backbone. She sat a few more minutes, then stood to the full measure of her height. She walked through the back door to the kitchen. No one there. She went to the living room. Momma and Stella Ann were sitting on the davenport. Momma was showing Stella Ann the basics of crochet techniques.

Well, there y’all are, said Opal. Have you had lunch? Can I make up something?

We ate some time ago, daughter. What are you doin’?

I’ve been learning to drive. You know that Aunt Bella and Ella have gone to town to trade vehicles, so I’m taking a break and offering to get y’all something. Driving’s going to be easy as pie.

You sure? You don’t sound like yourself, child.

"Oh, Momma, everything’s fine. I’m going to get my lunch. Can I get you and Stella Ann anything?’

We’re fine. Go on, said Momma.

Opal cut thick slabs of ham and fixed herself a sandwich from the leftovers of the church ladies’ contributions. She ate it on the back porch, then finished off the last piece of pinkish rhubarb pie. When she was done and had quietly put away her dishes so that Momma wouldn’t hear her, she went from the back around to the front of the house and sat on the porch steps.

The first car she saw kicking up dust on the tree-lined lane from the highway to the Pratts’ house belonged to Aunt Bella. Maybe they weren’t able to do the trade. Opal didn’t know if that was good or bad. But then she saw another car. It was older than Bella’s. It was faded blue and had one gray door, but it seemed to move just fine. Later Aunt Bella said it was a 1949 model, but that wasn’t very old. So she’d have to learn to drive it.

Ella and Aunt Bella had eaten lunch in Vicksburg, so Ella raced into the house to get her sister, and Bella felt no need to check the church ladies’ leavings. Opal had a new mindset and was ready to drive. She would show her mother that she could handle more responsibility. If the younger girls could do it, she surely could. So there.

When Bella returned to the porch yard after going inside to visit the bathroom, Opal was standing confidently next to the blue car.

This is ours? she asked. It looks fine.

Bella was suspicious about the change in Opal’s attitude but replied, "It’s yours, and it is fine. And it has a full tank of gas. Your momma owes me for that, but everything works on it. I’ll tell you later about havin’ the oil changed and the like. Are you ready to drive?"

I sure am. Opal stood tall and smiled.

Bella showed her once again how to start the vehicle and then how to back it out of its parking space. Opal successfully put the gearshift in first and intended to go forward. There was a terrible grinding sound.

Put the clutch and brake pedal in! yelled Bella.

Opal panted heavily and blinked back tears.

It’s okay, Bella said in a comforting voice.

Ella and Stella Ann laughed loudly from the porch.

Bella yelled out the blue car’s window. I know how terrible bad you two did when you were learnin’! Shut up and get your butts in the house and leave us be!

Opal dropped her head and smiled where no one could see. ‘Bout time someone put those girls in their place. Aunt Bella had taken up for her.

Don’t mind them, said Aunt Bella. Make sure everything’s turned off and try again. It takes practice to get the clutch and gas pedal doin’ right together. You’ll get it. What we’re gonna do now is drive down nearly to the highway. Then you’re gonna turn it around and drive back to the house. Can you do that?

Yes, ma’am. Opal prayed that she really could.

Let’s go, said Bella.

There were only a few oopsies. Bella was patient, and Opal didn’t panic. After they’d done it twice, Bella had Opal stop in the porch yard and turn off the car.

Baby, I’m goin’ to go sit on the porch to watch you. I want you to go up and down this lane ten times, then stop and turn off the car properly. Can you do that?

I can, but don’t let anyone else come outside, okay?

It’s just you and me.

So Opal drove back and forth, getting smoother as she went. After five or six times, Bella thought she could see a little smile on Opal’s face. Finally the car stopped, and Opal stepped out with the biggest grin Bella had ever seen on the girl.

I think you’re ready, Opal. We’re goin’ to get on the highway and go to town to the gas station. You’re drivin’. Do you know how to put gas in the car?

I don’t know exactly how to ask the man for it.

The attendant will fill the tank when you ask, but he also wipes your windshield and checks under the hood—your water and oil. It’s important, and you should do what he tells you to do—like changing oil or adding water. He’ll do it, but you need to say yes and then pay for it. Don’t go there with empty pockets. Ain’t none of it free. We’re goin’ to go do that, so you’ll see. They’re good people. But you know what else?

What?

You get green stamps! And you get books to lick and stick them in, and when you get enough, you trade them for wonderful gifts at the stamp store. It’s amazing.

Free gifts? For me and Momma! That makes getting gasoline a lot more fun.

Then let’s learn the way to the service station and the Piggly Wiggly, said Bella. You’ll learn other places later.

With green stamps and free gifts sparkling in her head, Opal slowly proceeded down their lane to the highway, and after a nervous (and lengthy) pause, she entered the procession toward Vicksburg. Since the tank was mostly full, she received only a few stamps, but she pushed them into her pocketbook, and Aunt Bella said that the next morning, they’d find the stamp store and get her a catalog.

Next, Bella showed her how to get to the Piggly Wiggly. Bella even had Opal almost burst into tears as she negotiated a parking place. Bella gave her a kiss on the cheek when Opal was done. They went inside, got snow cones, and wandered about the store with Aunt Bella showing Opal where she’d retrieve weekly supplies.

As they entered the car for a return to the Pratt home place, Aunt Bella said, Darlin’, I don’t know how you got your head together, but I’m rightly proud of you. For the next while, I want you to go up and down your lane plenty of times a day. That practice is important, and I don’t want you to lose your skills. You’re in charge now, ya know.

Yes, I am. Yes, I can be.

The Little Boy Down the Lane

Opal Pratt fretted over the spot on her kitchen floor. She’d already swept and mopped, but still it was there. It looked a bit like a piece of liver that was shaped like Florida. She studied it and mulled over what, if anything, she should do next. She frowned when she heard the knock at her screen door. Opal avoided visitors, but the door was open, and there she stood in plain view. In decades following the 1950s, Opal might have been called a recluse or diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. But in Opal’s day, she was thought of as painfully shy or just plain odd.

A young boy stood there, apparently alone. He didn’t appear to be a pint-sized serial killer. He was clean, but his tangled hair hadn’t seen a comb in a long time.

Hi, he said. I’m Billy.

What do you need, Billy?

I just thought you’d come out and talk with me. Or we could walk out back to see your chickens. You don’t eat them, do you?

Opal looked around the porch, the porch yard, and up her lane to the highway. No one lurked.

Why are you here all by yourself? Are you lost?

I said why I was here, and I ain’t lost. I live down thataway. He pointed toward the two-lane highway and easterly.

I can’t see a house from here, said Opal. You’re too young to be wandering this far on the busy highway with fast cars and the Trailways bus.

I ain’t too little. I been in the first grade ever since school started, end of summer.

Opal was growing impatient. Age and menopause did that.

I don’t think your parents would be happy if they knew you were walking down the highway and going to strangers’ houses. You need to go home now.

But I wanted to sit with you, he whined.

Go on now. I’m working on a spot on my floor.

Opal walked halfway across the living room before she turned. He was sitting on her porch steps, shoulders hunched over.

Go on home, Billy.

Reluctantly he rose, and Opal watched him kick rocks all the way down her lane to the main road. She did without her usual afternoon relaxation, rocking on the front porch, sipping her sweet coffee. She didn’t want him to see her and return. What an odd little boy. She turned on the radio and took out her crocheting. She’d think about that spot tomorrow. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.

A few days later, Opal was still studying the liver spot in the kitchen. She poured vinegar on it and awkwardly got down on her knees to use the scrub brush. About the time Florida’s panhandle was disappearing, she heard the front door knock.

Who the dickens? she thought. Just wait. I’m coming.

Opal grabbed the nearby countertop to help herself to her feet. She wasn’t as slender as she used to be. Out of breath and nearing the front door, she saw the little boy again.

Hi there, Miss Opal, he grinned. See. I asked at the Piggly Wiggly and got your name. Some of them know you. I’m Billy. Remember?

Yes, I remember, but why are you here again?

Look. I brought a ball. You could come out and play pitch with me.

Billy, I don’t know how to play pitch, and you ought to be playing with children your age, or maybe that’s something you do with your dad.

He don’t play games, and there ain’t no kids livin’ close to us. I just see them at school. Look. Pitch is easy. Billy wasn’t easily put off. I throw the ball to you and then you throw it back to me. Nothin’ to it.

Don’t you have brothers and sisters?

Nah.

Say ‘no, ma’am.’

Sure. When the school bus goes by, I seen you sittin’ by yourself on the porch, so I thought you needed someone to play with too. Come on out.

Maybe the boy had a point. Once again, Opal looked all around the yard and the property, and saw no predators. Even in the safe 1950s, a single woman couldn’t be too careful. The boy was awfully brave to be here alone.

I can stop my work for a bit, she said as she opened the dusty screen door. Billy offered her the ball as she sat in the rocker, but she declined.

Didn’t you play ball when you were a kid? Didn’t your mom and dad play with you?

I guess not, she replied. I guess they were busy like your folks.

Billy climbed up on the porch rail to sit since there was only one chair. The afternoon was designed for sitting outside. It was in that blessed gap between scalding summer days and the cold, ice-covered days of winter. He chattered about everything and nothing. If he’d been a pressure cooker, he’d be ready to explode. He made Opal laugh three times. When the sky began to soften, Opal advised Billy that it was time to go home. His face dropped, but he didn’t fuss.

Before you go, I want to ask—but not intrude—does your mother comb your hair?

Billy rubbed his head roughly. I don’t rightly guess so.

Would you mind if I did that? I have an extra comb.

Hell, I dunno. I guess.

"Shame on you! Don’t you use that language—not here, not anywhere. I won’t