Listen To Me Honey

  Listen To Me Honey

  By author

  Fay Risner

  Cover Art

  Pleasant Valley Church picture taken by Fay Risner

  All rights reserved 12/2014

  Published by Fay Risner at Smashwords.com

  Copyright (c) 2014

  All Rights Reserved

  By Fay Risner

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locals are entirely coincidental. Excerpts from this book cannot be used without written permission from the author.

  Booksby fay Publisher

  author, editor and publisher Fay Risner

  fayrisner@netins.net

  This book is dedicated to Minnie Risner. Pleasant Valley Church, Mammoth Springs, Arkansas served as a school, church, voting place and community center for many years. It was a big part of her life for years.

  This book was expanded from a short story I wrote for the Arkansas Writers' Conference titled Listen To Me Honey.

  Chapter Nine was taken from my short story A Walk On The Wild Side entered in 2006 Arkansas Writers' Conference AR Center for the Book Award contest and awarded second honorable mention.

  Chapter Eleven was taken from a short short story The Threesome entered in 2005 Arkansas Writers' Conference Lucille R. Longstreth Memorial Award and received second place.

  Fay Risner's books at Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, kindle and nook

  Nurse Hal Among The Amish Series

  A Promise Is A Promise Emma's Gossamer Dreams

  The Rainbow’s End The Courting Buggy

  Hal’s Worldly Temptations Doubting Thomas

  As Her Name Is So Is Redbird

  Amazing Gracie Historical Mystery Series

  Neighbor Watchers Poor Defenseless Addie

  Specious Nephew

  The Country Seat Killer

  The Chance Of A Sparrow

  Moser Mansion Ghosts

  Locked Rock, Iowa Hatchet Murders

  Westerns

  Stringbean Hooper Westerns Tread Lightly Sibby

  The Dark Wind Howls Over Mary The Blue Bonnet

  Small Feet’s Many Moon Journey

  Ella Mayfield's Pawpaw Militia-Civil War

  Christmas books

  Christmas Traditions - An Amish Love Story

  Christmas With Hover Hill

  Leona’s Christmas Bucket List

  Children Books

  Spooks In Claiborne Mansion Mr. Quacker

  My Children Are More Precious Than Gold

  Listen To Me Honey

  Nonfiction about Alzheimer’s disease

  Open A Window - Caregiver Handbook

  Hello Alzheimer’s Goodbye Dad-author’s true story

  Cookbook

  Midwest Favorite Lamb Recipes

  Books published by Booksbyfay Publisher

  Romance

  Sunset Til Sunrise On Buttercup Lane by Connie Risner

  Military Nonfiction Vietnam War

  Redcatcher MP by Mickey Bright

  Chapter One

  Late one April afternoon, Tansy Craftton rode with her husband, Art, in his old blue pickup. They were headed to the bus stop in Saddle, Arkansas to pick up their granddaughter, Amanda.

  “This idea better work for Amanda, Art. There’s no other reason I’d consent to gettin' into this death trap of yers. I'm too old to be jarred up this way when we own a perfectly good Regal Buick,” she grumbled.

  Tansy swiped the stray sprigs of white hair escaping from the coiled braid on the back of her neck. When she got excited, her voice creaked like two branches rubbing together in a high wind.

  Art usually joked or tried to reason with his wife to settle her down. “You're just nervous, worrying about a youngun in the house after all these years. I understand how ya feel. It's been a right smart time since Jeff and his friends were under foot all the time.”

  Tansy nodded. “Almost twenty years I expect.”

  “Maybe by the time this experiment is over y'all will learn somethin' about havin' a girl around,” claimed Art, winking.

  Tansy crossed her arms over her green, homemade, cotton dress defiantly. “I'm learnin' all right. I've learned in a hurry the car is much more comfortable to ride in on these rough roads then this rattle trap rig.”

  “I reckon it might be,” Art conceded quietly. “But I'm kind of fond of Old Blue.”

  Tansy was on a roll. “Another thing I've learned. I should know better than to let that daughter-in-law of ours sucker me into taking Amanda during spring break. I take myself for a fool every time I think about how Iris said if we could do any better with the girl to go right ahead and try. I should have let well enough alone. Amanda's problems are Jeff and Iris's to solve.”

  “I think it might have been what ya said before that ya shouldn't have,” Art muttered. “It upset Iris.”

  “All I said was the truth. Our son and his wife shouldn't have spoiled the child by buying her anything she wanted. They wouldn't have so much trouble out of her now when they tell her no.”

  “Too late now to change what Amanda's parents did in the past. They tried to be good parents to the child, but their way backfired. No reason we cain't try to he'p them out. The girl's just thirteen. Maybe we can he'p her see things a little differently. How long does spring break last?”

  “Iris didn't say. She took me by surprise. I forgot to ask. Reckon Amanda knows when she has to go back,” Tansy said.

  “Yip, we'll ask the girl. Ah, there she is. The bus has done come and gone. Wonder how long that poor girl had to wait on the sidewalk by herself?” Art pulled over to the curb. “We could have made it here at least a half hour earlier if the preacher hadn't been so long winded.”

  “Don't complain about listenin' to a long sermon. Just be lucky we have a preacher. Some small churches don't ya know,” Tansy scolded.

  A dark haired girl, in a scanty, red tank top and hip hugger jeans, paced in front of the bus stop sign. Her ponytail swung back and forth with each agitated turn of her head.

  “That girl's clothes must have cost a small fortune,” Art surmised.

  All Tansy managed was to nod and frown. She didn't like one little bit what she saw when she scrutinized her granddaughter. She was close enough to see makeup and eye shadow plastered thick on the girl's face. Close enough to spot her granddaughter’s belly button in plain sight under the tank top. A Jordache label was clearly readable on her hip hugger jeans when Amanda turned her back to the street.

  With what she saw, the elderly woman worried even more about taking on the responsibility of her granddaughter. “Laws a mercy, Arthur, get that girl in this rig quick before anyone we know comes by and figures out she's related to us. She ain't got half enough clothes on to be descent in public.”

  Tansy couldn't believe she was kin to the girl pacing on the sidewalk like a wild animal. She hated knowing she had a granddaughter that wouldn't mind anyone and dressed like a hussy. “I'm staying right here. Y'all get her in the pickup.” She folded her arms over herself and slid to the middle of the seat, waiting for Art to get out and greet the girl.

  Art ambled around the front of the pickup. He smiled and stuck a thumb b
ehind the strap attached to his blue bib overalls. In a husky, slow southern drawl, he said, “Afternoon, Mandie. Got a hug fer yer grandpa?”

  Amanda's eyes darted from the old pickup to the elderly man. Her expression was puzzlement when she put her arms around his neck for just a second and quickly stepped away.

  “Yer grandma and me have been lookin' forward to yer visit. Hop in, and let’s go fer home,” Art said, waving a thumb toward the pickup.

  Amanda studied the gray haired elderly man. It had been a long time since she'd seen her grandparents. Grandpa moved fairly fast for an old guy.

  She wanted to correct him about her name, but she thought she better let that go for now. She didn't need to get off on the wrong foot with him right away. It was just that she lived so far from them, she really didn't know how to act or what to say around her grandparents.

  A large, black dog stood up in the back of the pickup and stretched. He sniffed in Amanda's direction. She reached out to pat him. “What a nice dog! Come here, boy.”

  The dog growled and backed to the opposite side of the pickup bed.

  Art warned, “Put yer hand down easy, girl. Don't try to make friends right off with that old mutt. He don't warm up to strangers real fast.” Art shook his finger at the dog. “Jubel, ya shouldn't act that way. This girl just wants to be friendly.” The sharpness in Art's voice made the dog whine. He flopped down and eyed Amanda.

  “Hop on in, Mandie. We'll have plenty of time to work on that dog's manners while ya stay with us. Pay him no mind for right now.” He picked up the beige suitcase by Amanda's feet and set it in the pickup bed.

  When Amanda opened the pickup door, Grandma Tansy said sharply, “Welcome to Arkansas, Amanda.”

  Amanda didn't seem to notice her grandma's coolness. She wrinkled her nose at the rusted pickup's interior. Red dust had settled on every portion of the inside, including the seat. She eyed her grandmother. “We have to ride in this old wreck? Where’s your Buick?”

  “Listen to me, Honey, it’s either ride in yer grandpa's old wreck or walk. We're not riding in anythin' else. Now y'all best get in so we can get home. We got chores to do before supper,” Tansy ordered.

  The day was crisp, but not as cold or windy as it was in Chicago in early spring. Just the same, Amanda was cold. She slipped onto the faded, cracked leather seat and wrapped her arms around her bare waist. “Don't the heater work in this wreck?”

  Art exclaimed, “I prefer to call my rig Old Blue. As fer the heater, it does work when we need to use it. Didn't see the need in tryin' the heater out today with the sun shinin' in.”

  Tansy looked over her gold rimmed glasses at Amanda and frowned. “We know to put on enough clothes to stay warm when we're outside. Ya best think about dressin' warmer if y'all don't want to be cold.”

  “Yes, Grandma,” Amanda said contritely.

  As her grandfather pulled away from the curb, Amanda looked up and down the street. What had her mother gotten her into? Most of the Main Street stores were vacant, and the rest were closed on Sunday. Saddle sure was a nothing happening town.

  Amanda stepped off the bus in front of a drug store. An antique store was across the street, and on one side of it was a vacant building. On the other was Randy's Fish House. On the roof of the fish house was a large wooden cross, standing out against the blue sky. What an odd place for a cross, she thought.

  She had never seen so many different colors and makes of pickups in her whole life, going both directions on Main Street. More pickups, sitting still, parallel parked in front of the grocery and hardware stores. No wonder Grandpa thought a pickup fit in better around here. It was just too bad he couldn't afford to buy a nicer one.

  Amanda needed some answers. “Why did I have to meet you in this hick berg anyway? I’ve never seen so many pickups in a place that's practically a ghost town.”

  “I told you that’s the mode of transportation here. This hick town happens to be our home town. It isn't a ghost town, either,” Tansy said. “That drug store in front of the bus stop is where we get our medicine. When we need to, we shop in the hardware store or the grocery store every day except Sunday.”

  Amanda decided to change the subject. “Why did Grandpa toss my Gucci luggage into the back where it's so dusty? That's leather luggage. It cost a lot of money.”

  “I’m glad ya realize yer suitcase is costly. Ya could have saved some of your parents hard earned money. A couple of grocery sacks would have sufficed to carry yer clothes in to visit us,” Tansy said.

  “I don't want to wrinkle up my clothes in grocery sacks. I have nice clothes in that luggage. Besides, it's not mine. It belongs to my mom. She's not going to like what's happening to it.” Tansy looked down her nose at the girl which made Amanda decided to change tactics. “All I'm trying to say is my Levis and tops are going to be dusty by the time we get to your house,” complained Amanda.

  “Don't worry. Expensive clothes wash just as well as Walmart's clothes,” Art said.

  “Mom takes my clothes to the dry cleaners, and they come back looking like new,” retorted the girl.

  Tansy sighed heavily. “Listen to me, Honey. In our day, we didn't have such a thing as a dry cleaners. We had to wash our clothes by hand on a scrub board. I felt fortunate when yer grandpa bought me the wringer washer machine. It cleans all the washables I put in it. It will take care of yer clothes, too.

  Now as ya can see, there isn't room in the cab for that big suitcase and all of us,” said Tansy, dryly. “Y'all want to ride in back with the dog? We'll put the suitcase up here. Grandpa will be glad to pull over to the side the road to make the switch.”

  “No, thanks. You want to get me dog bit?” Amanda asked sullenly. “Grandpa says I don't know his dog well enough yet to ride with him.”

  “Weeel, that's right enough, Tansy. I did say something like that,” Art agreed.

  Amanda slumped in the seat and wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. “You know, I’m already regretting this trip, but I didn’t have a choice, did I?”

  “Listen to me, Honey, coming to see us was yer mama's idea, but yer stay here can be which ever y'all choose, long or short. We're agreeable either way so it’s up to y'all,” informed Tansy, bluntly.

  “That's for sure?” Amanda asked.

  Art said, “Mandie, look on the bright side. Spring break will pass by fast. Y'all will be home before ya know it.”

  Amanda sit up straighter and leaned forward to look around her grandma. “Grandpa, how do you know for sure? I mean about spring break and how long I'm staying?”

  “I told him. Yer mama told me when she asked if ya could come visit us,” Tansy said. “She said ya would be on spring break.”

  “Sure enough. That's what yer mama said,” Art agreed. “How long does spring break last?”

  Amanda slumped in the seat and stared at the passing scenery. “A week,” she uttered.

  It was just like her mom not to be truthful with Grandma. It was true that spring break lasted a week, but her mother had left out the rest of what she should have told her grandparents.

  Sooner or later, Amanda would have to break the news to them herself. She wasn't looking forward to it.

  “Bet y'all are tired from the trip,” Art said.

  Amanda nodded. “Yes, some. It was a long bus trip from Chicago.”

  “I can imagine. Grandma and me ride in a bus to Springfield once in awhile. I'm always glad to get home,” Art said.

  Chapter Two

  The pickup didn't ride too bad until Art turned off the blacktop onto the rough country road, clay red and full of potholes. Amanda bounced up and down like a yo-yo when Art hit the potholes. She had to cover the top of her head with her hand to keep from hitting the cab. Depending on which way the curves twisted, she leaned into her grandma, or Tansy leaned into her.

  Finally, Amanda spoke up. “Grandpa, are you driving too fast?”

  “Nah, I don't think so. Just about like common. Wouldn't make much differe
nce anyhow if it's the bouncin' you're worried about. The springs on yer side the pickup are shot. Just need to get some new springs one of these days. Yip, this old rig just needs new springs,” Art rambled.

  So far all Amanda had seen was timbers, pastures filled with grazing cattle and houses spaced far apart. “How much farther is it to the farm?”

  “We're almost home,” Tansy answered. “This part of the county is called Pleasant Valley. We think the name fits. It's a right nice and friendly spot to live.”

  “Have you always lived here?” Amanda asked.

  “Ever since your grandpa and me got married and bought the farm. Bet you're hungry. Grandpa and I have a few chores to do before supper. After we eat, we can turn in early so ya get a good night's rest.”

  Amanda asked, “What kind of chores?”

  “I have to gather eggs, and Grandpa milks two cows. Won't take long.”

  Art slowed and turned into a narrow lane lined with trees on both sides. He drove over a series of parallel metal bars installed in the lane over a ditch at a gap in the fence line. Driving over the bars rattled just a shade louder than Amanda's eye teeth. “What was that?”

  “A cattle guard. The cows won't cross it and get out. Saves us putting in a gate we'd always have to get out to open and shut,” Art explained.

  “There's home.” Tansy pointed at the house on the other side of a stream.

  Amanda didn't have time to look ahead of them. She stiffened and braced her feet on the floor when she realized her grandpa wasn't slowing down. “Grandpa, you're headed right at a creek. Isn't there a bridge close you better drive over to be safe?”

  Art chuckled. “This here is Dye Branch. It ain't near deep enough to be a worry to drive in. We do it all the time.” He eased the pickup through the branch, spraying water onto the windows which blurred their view.