“Start acting right and he’ll take you on a ride sometime,” Pearl said. She winked at Myles. “The back seat has plenty of room for long-legged boys.” Momma, the worst cook in at least one state, came to mind as I wolfed down the world’s best cobbler and watched Myles’s face turn red. Momma swore on the family Bible he could sell condoms to the pope without breaking a sweat. If that didn’t send me from the kitchen at a trot, I’d hear that Myles had the looks of a movie star—Robert Redford was her standard pick—to go with a wallet thicker than King Solomon’s. Sounded sketchy to me, but anything that took her mind off Deddy couldn’t have been the worst sin in the Good Book.
Big John cleared his throat. “Myles, I hear you liked the Rendezvous.” “Best ribs this side of the Mississippi, Mr. Jackson.” “Son, how many times do I have to remind you to call me Big John?” “Sorry, my parents are sticklers for manners,” Myles said, flashing a line of white teeth that should’ve made Big John think twice about his crooked yellows. Big John pulled a rag from a drawer, wiped at Deddy’s leftovers, and looked my way. “Slide, you’re bound to be tuckered out. Let’s head on up to your room.” Myles glanced at the clock above the back door. “Goodness, Slide. It’s three in the morning. I’ll see you at church in eight hours. Then we’ll have us a time at Big John’s birthday dinner.”
“I hope so,” I said. Myles put a hand on my shoulder and stared through me with his warm blue eyes. “Your father will make it through this valley. The same God who looks after the sparrows will take care of him.” I’d seen plenty of dead sparrows but nodded anyway. “Meanwhile, lean on this wonderful family of yours. And know you have a friend in me.”
Myles. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but something about Pearl’s latest suitor was different. From a pat on the back to a corny joke, Myles knew how to make me feel like his best buddy and only brother all bundled into one special package. Pearl wrapped an arm around his waist. “Slide, let’s help my man to his truck. He’s scared of the dark.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Whatever you say, Boo-bear.” Shitfire, Myles wasn’t perfect after all. Baby talk and Boo-bear made a bad mix in my book. We filed through the back door and down the steps to Myles’s pickup. Pearl locked her hands around his neck, planted a long kiss, and slapped him on the bottom as he got behind the wheel. I turned for the house, wondering why the hell I hadn’t stayed in the kitchen. BIG JOHN STOOD BY THE BED as I slid under the covers. He knelt and bowed his head. I wasn’t high on prayer but didn’t mind his. His prayers didn’t ramble from one eternity to another with strange voices and long words other grown-ups thought God made a big to-do over. They didn’t take forever to start either. “You praying or not?” I asked. “Afraid I don’t have it in me tonight.” He grunted to his feet. “I love you, Slide. So does your deddy. Try and get some sleep.” His shoulders filled the doorway as he paused and looked back.
“Slide, when have you been the happiest? What comes to mind?” “A couch,” I said. “I’m sorry Deddy ruined your birthday.” He walked back and sat on the edge of the bed. “Having you here makes my birthday. You got that?” I nodded. “Now toss me a happy.” A happy? Staying with Big John and Shine would be one. Playing with Annabelle in her puppy days would be another. I was five years old when Santa left her in a kennel under the Christmas tree. We wrestled in the yard the whole summer. By September she could plant her paws between my arms, pin me down with her chest, and go to town with a tongue that felt like worn-down sandpaper and soft-warm butter all at once. “Annabelle,” I said. “Your Annabelle’s quite a dog.” “Best yellow Lab ever. Best dog.” “Course I’m more of a cat person, but—”
“Nobody’s perfect,” I piped in. Snowball was meaner than a bobcat and would’ve passed for one if not for his long tail and bushy white fur. He liked only one person, and only one person liked him. Big John acted like Queen Elizabeth had honored us with a visit whenever his cat sauntered in from another hunting trip. “You’ll come around,” he said...
~~~
BIG JOHN FORCED HIS OWN SMILE as I crossed the porch. I rocked until I got tired of acting like everything was A-okay. “What was that about?” I asked. He raised a brow that needed a barber. “We can start with damn. Either one.” “Shine’s been slipping a little here lately,” he said. He leaned back, looking me over. “No wonder you’re so bright beyond those fourteen years.” “I’ll be fifteen in four months. Old enough to drive in this state.” “I’d wager it has more to do with your smarts, plus spying on grown-ups, than a driver’s license. How long were you nosing into our bidness?” “Long enough to know you weren’t leveling with me last night.”
He sipped his coffee. “Not much to it, Slide. A little grown-up talk.” “If it’s okay for grown-ups to lie, why do kids have to tell the truth?” He stared toward the gate like he expected company. Shine rushed out and handed me a steaming cup of cream and sugar. “How’s it going today, Aunt Shine?” I asked, as if I didn’t know. “Fair to middling,” she said. “I’ll let you men enjoy the fresh air while I get ready for church.” Get ready for church? Who needed three hours to dab on some makeup and throw on a dress? Not Shine. Big John started rocking after the door closed. I studied the zipper boots he polished every Saturday night while tapping his foot and humming along to The Lawrence Welk Show. The boots were older than the pants that supposedly fit back in his courting days. “Slide, see my pear trees on the edge of the pecan grove?” “All three,” I said. “My pears’ll be ready for these beauties any day now.” His mouth opened wide to show a set of teeth that was better left hidden. “Lucky for me Deddy couldn’t afford braces when I was growing up in the Great Depression. Those pears are mighty sweet, but they’re hard too. Straight teeth wouldn’t have the angles to cut through those jessies.” “You should get some pointers from Myles,” I said. “On teeth and clothes.”
He quit rocking. His smile disappeared. “What is it, Big John?” “Myles,” he said. “He seems perfect for Pearl. What’s wrong?” “Nothing like that. What he said about your deddy crossed my mind. Last night, remember?” “I remember how much better Myles made me feel, though I’m not sure about the sparrows.” “He said your deddy will make it through this valley.” “This valley? Add them up and we’re talking the Grand Canyon.” “Have you seen the Grand Canyon?” “What do you think?” “Well, I have, and it’s no match for what Cash is going through. Been through.” “I wish you were my deddy.” “Slide, every kid’s Santa pulls a no-show at some point.” “You haven’t.” “That would be for Pearl to answer,” he said in a way that said coffee-talk was officially over.
~~~
It's been many years since I read a novel from the Southern Literature genre... This story by Jeff Barry is an excellent example. The author chose to move from character to character, by chapter. by Chapter. I found myself, though, caught in the life of a young boy who is just 14 when the book begins. So much so, that I find myself writing as if he drove the book's point of view. You see, this young boy will capture your heart quickly, or at least it happened to me, so I was quite aware of all events as they affected Slide... Yes, Slide is his name--and several other names may seem strange. But, then, if Slide was not happy about his name, then we shouldn't be surprised that Slide agrees with us...
It is 1970 and Slide is where he most wants to be. With his Uncle John and his Aunt Shine. His deddy is home from the war and all he does is sleep and lay around on their couch. Yes, as I am sure you've already guessed. He has PTSD. But all Slide knows is that he's not there for him, even though he's now living with his wife and Slide... In other words, Slide feels no real relationship with his own Father, while his Uncle John is a man who is always available...
Uncle John and Aunt Shine have one daughter, Pearl. She's at the "thinking about marriage" stage which has Uncle John on edge, not knowing what she might get into...
Enter Miles....
Miles was what you might think of as a southern gentlemen. Once he had met Pearl, Miles soon had brought her back into the church and was thoughtful and giving in all ways... And he was...rich... What more could a Father want?! Miles knew the words to songs and sang louder than Uncle John who was a church deacon...
Years ago, one of the songs we either sung, or I played, as pianist, was God be With You... But that day at church, Pearl didn't wait for that final song. She needed to get out of there! So, since Slider was staying with Uncle John, he was there when Pearl grabbed his hand and pulled him outside of the church... Opened Miles truck and turned on her kind of music... and sat, moving her arms, dancing as she sat enjoying the music...
Miles was not happy, especially when she made fun of her just missing the last hymn, even referring to him as Daddy*...
Slider was young enough--but old enough--to start questioning exactly what the, supposedly, grownups did... He watched as his father did nothing but sleep on the couch... He was very excited when his Deddy got up and was again a contributing member of the family. He watched as his Aunt began to fail physically and wanted her to always be there in his life. And, he watched Pearl as she seemed to be changing--one day happy, the next day sad or even scared.
But mostly Slider watched as his beloved Uncle John thought her present special friend was a good match, until... he... wasn't. And had changed when he lost his beloved wife and was now constantly bothered by his daughter's life... Uncle John would rock in his wife's chair, not saying his inner words: He now questioned whether he should even remain as a Deacon of his church... Because he knew of only one person who could clear up the mess that he had brought about.
His brother...
Barry writes like he was sittin' on my front porch swing, lookin' out on my land, as the latest Azalea bush begins to bloom, and starts telling me about the times back in his '70s. I start shakin' my head about how I saw so much of his time then and our time in the present very similar. Seems to me that time wasn't any different than what was happenin' here in the present... It is 'specially hard for we who know Jesus to see His words being said from the mouth of a conman as he wheels and deals tellin' lies to gain favor while his criminal activities are kept secret... and see some who choose to believe the cons... It is indeed a mystery to be solved over and over and over...
This book was published this year, 2024. I was sharing a little with my wonderful caretaker yesterday... The way I see it is that Jesus died for all of us, not askin' much: Just askin' that God be loved above all and that we love our neighbors, setting aside all the rules... Yet 2000+ years have passed and we still have wars, hate, violence... Why is that? I don't know the answer. What I do know is that those who are thinkin' and ponderin' about the wasted lives caused by those who choose, for whatever reason, to, instead, hate their neighbor, are left with such pain because of a loss of a family member, especially children...
But one thing I do know is that when a writer chooses to write this story entwining the PTSD of a troubled soldier with solving a problem that was destroying the lives of others, that writer is seein' exactly what I see. God Bless you Jeff Barry. I loved the way your title was enhanced and expanded upon through your novel. Your characters became so real to me that I found my writing changing to honor the family who I met. Indeed, your final Author's Note told me exactly what I had known--that the story was based upon a real-life experience... Be assured that this reader felt
exactly what you hoped... That we... can... indeed... hope...
I recommend this fascinating novel for many reasons!
GABixlerReviews
*A side note, the author has used colloquial dialogue, so that when Pearl's father was mentioned, Deddy versus Daddy was used as spoken in the South, I gather...For me, I wasn't quite sure how to say Deddy--deady, dedy with a lone e, or just daddy with a southern drawl...I tried to have it pronounced online and it didn't work... LOL So don't be surprised when reading his novel you'll be stumbling over how to say Deddy--unless, of course, you're from the south and wonder what in the world I'm talking about...
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