The Simple Life: Tales of John Robert and Bobby Lyon

By Robert Peel

I seriously began writing down many of the John Robert and Bobby Lyon stories when grandchildren started arriving. But I began telling them to my children, Bobby, Greer, and Andy over 25 years ago. The main characters, Bobby Lyon and John Robert, were the imaginary friends of Bobby. Soon Greer told me of Sally, Cappie (“Cathy”), and the twins, Tina and Sasha. In time, John Robert and Bobby Lyon evolved into cousins, raised on the family farm and the girls became Bobby Lyon’s sisters. By the time Andy came along the stories had seasoned and each character possessed his own individuality.

This book is made up of a series of loosely-related short stories, which can stand alone or read as one to create a larger narrative. Grownups pass down stories of the family, the land, the community, and their faith. Four generations presently live on and work this land. Few people today believe a place exists like the farm Bobby Lyon, John Robert and their families live on; though it is not the ground, the terra firma, that is special, but the people who have chosen this small corner of the whole, big world as home

I hope I have done the stories my family enjoyed justice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489718938

Robert Peel

Rob lives in Vidette, Ga. with Delia, his wife of 31 years. They have 3 grown children, and 4 grandchildren. Rob enjoys hunting on what is left of the Peel farm, the inspiration of much of the John Robert and Bobby Lyon stories. Rob and Delia are active members of Vidette United Methodist Church Cooperative. Rob is also employed by Jefferson Energy Cooperative. This is Rob’s first attempt at publishing.

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The Simple Life

Tales of John Robert and Bobby Lyon

Robert Peel

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Copyright © 2018 Robert Peel.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1895-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1894-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1893-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018957018

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 09/29/2018

Dedication

To my children Bobby, Greer, and Andy without whom these stories would not exist and the lives of John Robert, Bobby Lyon, Sally, Cappie, Sasha and Tina would still be unknown. I’m glad you think of these stories after all of these years.

⁶ And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart:

⁷ And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.

Deuteronomy 6:6-7

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgement

The Flat

Nana

The Viewing

Old Jake the Arithmetic Dog

A writing assignment by Cathy Grabowski

The Garden

John Robert the Whiner

Night Sounds

Marbles

The Treehouse

Poppa and Nana

Julius and Caesar

Walking on Water

Clarence

Impaled

The Picnic

First Time by Himself

Thanksgiving

The Campout

Christmas

The Specter

Poppa

The Oaken People

Sally Grabowski

Preface

I seriously began writing down many of the John Robert and Bobby Lyon stories when grandchildren started arriving. But I began telling them to my children, Bobby, Greer, and Andy over 25 years ago. The main characters, Bobby Lyon and John Robert, were the imaginary friends of Bobby. Soon Greer told me of Sally, Cappie (Cathy), and the twins, Tina and Sasha. In time, John Robert and Bobby Lyon evolved into cousins, raised on the family farm and the girls became Bobby Lyon’s sisters. By the time Andy came along the stories had seasoned and each character possessed his own individuality.

This book is made up of a series of loosely-related short stories, which can stand alone or read as one to create a larger narrative. Grownups pass down stories of the family, the land, the community, and their faith. Four generations presently live on and work this land. Few people today believe a place exists like the farm Bobby Lyon, John Robert and their families live on; though it is not the ground, the terra firma, that is special, but the people who have chosen this small corner of the whole, big world as home

I hope I have done the stories my family enjoyed justice.

Acknowledgement

To Delia, my wife, who has never given up on me and whose encouragement overcame my hesitancy to tackle this project. My parents, Bob and Judy, who first laid for me the foundation of my faith, love of family, heritage, and the land; as well as my love of reading and using my imagination. Also, Cal, my brother, to whom I did not treat nearly as good as John Robert treats Bobby Lyon and a host of cousins, who along with Cal and I were run out of the house and told to Go play.

TheDuncanFamilyTreeFinal.jpg

The Flat

Ben Duncan, I want you to meet Mr. Roger Diehl. Ben is my brother-in-law. He and his father, Robert, farm all of this. Willie made a sweeping gesture toward the surrounding landscape of fields and woods.

Good to meet you Mr. Diehl. Looks like you had a little trouble.

That’s Roger, and yes, I did. Willie here went above and beyond in getting me motorvating and back on the road again, but he won’t take any money. As this exchange took place, the men met in front of Ben’s car which was parked on the side of the road behind Roger.

I had surgery a few weeks ago, Roger volunteered, and not supposed to lift anything heavier than a bag of sugar. Will here just seemed to appear out of nowhere and took over; a smile never left his face.

Well, you know they say simple-minded people are a happy lot, Ben responded with a smirk. A jarhead and lineman rolled up in one person couldn’t be anything, but simple-minded.

Says the Georgia dirt farmer and weekend warrior, countered Willie.

Roger was about to speak when out of the blue a shrill, unnaturally loud whistle split the air causing him to jump. The other two men looked around, their eyes immediately settling on the silhouette of a man standing in the field a good three hundred yards away; his hands on his hips. A small, wood-framed farmhouse stood behind him.

That’s Poppa, he’s ready to get to the hospital. I need to go. Good to meet you Roger. Glad Willie could help. With that, Ben got in his car and pulled away. A pleasant-looking woman in the passenger seat smiled as the car passed.

Willie turned to Roger. Ben’s grandmother, Lynette, is in the hospital. Ben and his wife, Jackie, are taking his father and grandfather for a visit. Nana can pass away today or she can be kicking high this time next year. The doctors thought she would have alr …

Just then another whistle interrupted the conversation, this time further down the field toward the woods. A responding whistle came from behind the two-story house across the dirt road from where the two men stood, followed by a quick response from Poppa. A look of definite intrigue crossed Roger’s face.

I think you are about to meet most of the gang. As Willie spoke, Roger noticed from across the field and the second whistle, two horses trotting toward them. Then another whistle from across the road where he saw two girls walking up. One more whistle came from Ben’s grandfather followed by more responses.

You see, Poppa, you know, the man across yonder, is these children’s great-grandfather. He taught all of them how to whistle like that, so they will spread out all over the farm and start whistling, trying to find each other. Nobody knows where the others are. Kinda like long-distance ‘hide-and-go seek,’ but everybody is trying to find everybody. The girls haven’t figured out the boys are running them all over the farm; whistle and move, whistle and move. With that, Roger smiled and put his two pinkies in the corners of his mouth and whistled just as loudly as anybody he’d heard so far.

Willie looked faintly perturbed. I just never could do it.

As the horsemen approached, one spoke up, a tow-headed boy, barefoot, and riding bareback. That was good, but I gotta give you a ‘C’.

The protest was immediate. A ‘C’ … a ‘C’? My whistle was every bit as loud as any of yours.

Yessir, that was a fine, loud, long whistle, but you had to use both hands. If you had just puckered up your lips, or whatever I do, then you would’ve gotten an ‘A’. I get an ‘A’. John Robert here gets an ‘A’. Poppa gets an ‘A’. Sally gets a ‘B’ because she uses one hand.

Well, young man, I … I can’t argue with your logic; makes perfect sense. I might need to be sending an alarm while I’m shooting my way out of an ambush, and I’d have to put my gun down to send the alarm.

Yessir, that’s about it.

Roger, let me introduce you to the gang. You’ve been arguing with my boy, Bobby Lyon, riding Miss Angie. Bobby’s compadre is Ben’s son, John Robert, riding Alpo.

To Roger, John Robert appeared to be the oldest. He was just as dirty as his cousin, wearing jeans and a cap, but his horse was saddled.

Willie continued, Boys, this is Mr. Roger Diehl. He had a flat and I helped him change it. And these two girls sneaking up behind us are my two oldest girls, Sally and Cappie, really Cathy. The only ones you haven’t met are my wife Bobbie - I mean Barbara - and our twins, Sasha and Tina.

Turning back to the boys, with a more serious tone, Where are your shoes? Don’t come home tonight without ’em. Bobby Lyon tried to say something, but Willie raised his hand as he looked back at his guest. Bobby Lyon hated it when his father did that.

Roger admitted to the boys, I once lost my shoes, at church. My mother tore me up. To the whole group he said, I’m truly glad to get to know each one of you. I had no idea I was in for such an adventure when I left Roswell this morning. Even if things don’t work out for me today, I will still have had a great time. Reminds me of when I was a boy, going out to my uncle’s farm and being with my cousins.

With mention of Roswell Willie became serious. If you don’t mind me asking Roger, what are you doing in this part of Georgia? We don’t see many Fulton County tags.

No, I don’t mind a bit, Will. I’m looking for acreage. I have a little money I need to do something with and land is always a good investment. And, it’ll give me and my family and associates a place to hunt and decompress; to get away from that rat race called Atlanta. I saw on the Internet a farm here in Locke County for sale; four hundred and thirty acres, open and wooded, septic tank, power, out-buildings, and a creek. States the house had burned. My GPS put it on this road, but as you all certainly know, this road just peters out into the woods.

That creek is more like a branch, returned Willie. Right down here at the crossroads make a left. Drive about two miles and you’ll see a tractor tire half buried on the edge of the woods. Turn in there. The gate’s locked, but you can lift the gate off its hinges and go in. We are trying to keep the punks from coming out partying and smoking dope. They ain’t smart enough to notice the hinges. Ben and his father rent that farm. It’s the Stuart Place; used to be owned by a cousin. We own the land across the road.

Well, I’m surprised you aren’t buying it.

Mr. Roger, John Robert spoke up for the first time, my grandfather says we have enough land. He just wants to farm it. Pop is still going to want the farming rights to the Stuart Place.

The Stuart Place. Why is a tractor tire half buried at the road?

It was a landmark. When they were building the house, Old What’s His Name Stuart got tired of the supply trucks getting lost. No such thing as cell phones back then to get directions, so he half buried that tire. After that, he just told the delivery people to turn at the tire. It worked.

I like it. Where there’s a will there’s a way. Well, John Robert, I’ve not bought the land yet and, like your grandfather, I look at the bottom line. If I make that purchase, I think it will be in my best interest to rent to someone who has a personal tie in my investment. How’s that? John Robert nodded his approval.

Turning to Willie and extending his hand, Roger finalized his visit. "I won’t