Arkansas Summers Pt 1

When I got out of the car the country humidity reached in my lungs and took my air, it was nauseating the way it did that to me every time. I jumped down from the truck and closed the door looking at the Jungle of weeds that seem to reappear on Granny's land with more ferociousness every summer. God knows what can be living in there this summer, all kinds of wild animals could be hunting me right now and I would never know. The slam of the truck's driver side door took me out of my growing terror. Granny, immune to the Arkansas humidity, hastily went to the door of the house and battled with the screen door to the screened in patio. Her short hair glistened with sweat and hair oil that she puts in her hair every morning as she won the battle against the screen door and went to the other door, which was easier to open. I ran into the house like a track star when the mosquitoes realized I was here and was bombarded with the dust of spider webs and family history that the old house offered.

Everything was the same every time I walked into this house. The floral couches covered in plastic collected dust on each side of the room making a royal hallway of navy blue carpet and dead bugs of unusual size to the small television on the border of the dining room and living room. It hasn't worked since the beginning of time so I wasn't expecting it to start now. The dining room harvested a medium size dining table where I spent previous summers indulging on the freshest fried catfish and potato wedges I have ever had. The kitchen was a representation of many years of many meals and feasts, it's light yellow, now sprinkled with time and grime, made you hungry but the condition of the stove and sink made you want to wait until you got back to Granny's house. That would change in a matter of hours when Granny would begin to clean but first she had to confront the Jungle on the side of the house. I subconsciously looked for spiders crawling to attack me as Granny walked past me and out the door.

"Get the pans out the truck" she yelled as she trotted down the stairs. Watching my back for creepy crawlies, I ran outside to the truck. The sun was beating mercilessly and it was only nine in the morning, we usually wake up around five-thirty to get ready for our bi-weekly visit to Eudora. Well, Granny probably wakes up around four-thirty to make breakfast: Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and biscuits for the road leaving my brothers behind to ride with PaPa. I remember the truck's headlights hitting the road and the engine growling against its will, it was too early for a trip like this. The early morning fog would hug tree trunks as the sun peaked behind unknown mountain ranges, I knew we were officially on a journey when we passed Granny's salon not two minutes from the house and the A&W gas station down the road. I would try to sleep but it was no use, the trees were hypnotizing as they passed in dark brown and green blurs then as if God wanted to surprise you a blur of flat land would fly by then a house then back again to green and brown blurs. There was no talking in Granny's truck unless it was a mechanical issue:

"You gotta use the restroom?"

"You hungry?"

Other than that we were mostly silent and when we did get hungry she would take out these massive sandwiches with chicken from last night's dinner, American cheese, and this white bread that wasn't really satisfying. I never admitted when I was hungry because I didn't like the bread on the sandwich. I preferred Sonic burgers but only rarely did my wish ever come true. I never drank water with my breakfast because I knew I was going to have to pee later, Granny only ever stopped when she was running out of gas and when she did stop I ran for the bathroom as fast as I could so she wouldn't have to wait for me, she never said it but, it was understood that she was not one to waste time.

I was chased my mosquitoes and dragon flies to the truck where I unloaded pans, cooking spoons, and dishes out of the truck. It was heavy, but I never wanted to ask for help. If Granny wanted to help me, she would've said, "Tayllor, let me help you get the pans out of the truck." But she never said that so I conjured up all my ten year old strength to carry the pans to the stairs, I was going to go the full mile to the kitchen but Granny gently took the bags from me and marched into the kitchen dragging the cooler. I too, one day, wanted to acquire that much strength.

I have problem with bugs. Especially bugs in Arkansas. They are bigger, meaner, and none of them are without teeth to bite you. It was a fear I wrestle with to this day. I watched every corner of the old place looking for a spider to jump on me, they never did, some looked at me from high walls and sneered but none of them ever jumped on me. Flies, however, always jumped on me. They flew in my ear and said boo sending me whirling around like a maniac without medication. If it was really bad, I would call Granny and tell on the fly. Granny sometimes told me, "Goodness girl it's just a horse fly, kill it!" To her they were flies, to me, they were monsters and with an imagination as big as mine, they were impossible to kill. Granny would take out her annoyance with me and smash the evil horse fly with a rolled up newspaper and as if she didn't save my life as I believe she had, she would go back to the kitchen.

I was sitting on the couch playing with old action figures my brothers probably left here when my Granny came out. The little hair she had was tamed with a red head band and her hands were protected to fight the Jungle with gloves that held the goggles just in case the Jungle was feeling belligerent this week. She walked like a soldier to the battle field and I trailed behind her to watch her get the machine. It was a lawn mower,the most powerful I had ever seen. It was red like the truck, and more intimidating than any animal that was lurking in that Jungle. Granny dragged the mower off the truck and drove it to the battle field. I would watch in awe as it roared and began to take the weeds off in lines. Chaos was eaten and tamed to make rows of green luscious grass. When bugs realized I was out, I ran back inside to play with action figures.

The roar of the mower melted into the sound of the country, the trees cooked rather than swayed in the wind, dragon flies' wings even made a beat, dogs barked far off and cars passed occasionally making the dirt sing beneath it. One car would honk from time to time making Granny wave, but the sound of the country stayed the same. The sun made a sizzle sound to the concrete gravel on the empty road, and some animals sung hymns from deep in the woods. But the sound of the country always made you feel alone, nature yelled freely but rarely did you hear the sound of another human being, not for now at least. Hours later the country would welcome the sound of my uncles, and aunts, but that made me feel even more alone until my brothers and cousins came by. When the mowing was done, I knew my playtime in the house was up because she was going to start in on the cleaning of it. Not that she was going to need my help, she never did, but I never felt right playing in front of her. If she can't play, why could I? When she did come into the door, almost at the same time, I went out and became victim to the sizzle of the sun and the bugs. I made my way to the back of the house, which was a whole new world in itself...