Granny Diaries / Number 3 in the Series
John Henry said to the Captain: Man sweats ta build a life. You says da machine gonna take our labor. Whadda man do ta earn bread n' beans then, huh? No machine git dignity outta muscle 'n sweat. Whadda ya say 'bout dat, Cap'n, huh?
Deep, knife cut words on the lid. Age dark. Welcome Friend (that be his name) believed the John Henry words, cause he thought him a prophet. If such a thing be for a steel drive'n man.
Tad brung the memory trunk down. Gouges next to older ones. Don't care. Gives the stairs character. Sitting on the porch doing hard memories.
I gots to sneeze from the dust boogers.
Heavy lid to open. Kiva in it faster than a snake strike. Always with the attitude, "You too slow." She'll wind down like me, someday. She's a cutie cat a peek'n out, whiskers twitching, anticipat'n.
Many treasures. Lotsa secrets inside. Some with leather wrappings. Others in boxes of cheat velvet. Oh, smell the memories coming up from in.
Move, cat. Yep. Aunt Grace's photo. Look, a hair growing out the tip of her snoot. Married the most handsome man in Whiz Bang, though. Dropped children, one short a full dozen, I seem to recall.
Stop clawing the leather, Kiva. Oh, Welcome Friend's musket pistol. Wonder if that be the one that blew his lip off when he was gassed and puffed up on himself like a banty rooster?
I better wrap it back up. Could be loaded. I dunno. Best I keep my lip.
Daddy's Navy ship picture. Went down in the WW II, Kiva. Suicide plane smacked it. He got to the island with a lot of skin missing, crawling across the purple coral.
This is special, Kiva. Real gold nugget. Deep earth wealth. Came from the Sutter's Mill in 1845. That's in California, Kiva. Long way from here. Too far to walk for us, now. Radio said it wasn't golden now, with many people having to scratch to live. Like here.
Uncle Jack's numbly knife. Near numbled his thumb off in the summer of '42. Look, blood still on the blade.
Caleb and me in our used Model T. Traded two hogs to get it. Didn't like it much, Kiva. My side had a broken spring in the seat and...Oops, tear choke time.
Let's get a thin mint cookie and some tea. Warm powdered milk for you, kitty. Then we'll look in the trunk again.
Cold tea quenches hot tears real good, don't it? OK, what else this old trunk have in it, Kiva?
Oh, Jenny's baby rattle. You can play with it, Kiva. Go over there outta my way and enjoy yourself. Just don't push it down the steps. My old back don't bend to pick up like it used too.
Oh, my, oh, my! Three river pearls. From Caleb on our first Christmas. All we had was each other and the Yule fire to keep us warm in our Pie Town shack. Ummm, I remember. Lord, do I remember!
Sigh. Memories come with a cost. I'll look in the trunk again, tomorrow.
Sitt'n on the porch in the rocking chair. Beautiful moon, but looks so big! Saw that a few times afore, Kiva. News said they call it a super moon. Ah, we just called it a witch'n moon as I was grow'n up.
Well, old bones done said it's time for bed. You coming, Kiva?
As Scarlett said, "After all, tomorrow, is another day." Frankly, my Kiva, I don't give a damn. Maybe I dream of ol' Rhett Butler.
I'm so ornery!
#3 Granny Diaries series