Cicadas were singing and a cool wind ruffled the edges of trees. Sam had a plan in the back of his mind that kept running over and over again. He wanted to impress his lady friend by cooking her a fancy dinner. He was large-boned and angular with a patch of red hair growing around the back of his head. Although he’d never been out of Florida, except for Georgia (and one gambling trip to Mississippi) he liked to pretend to be worldly.
Lydia, the woman he was courting lived with her Aunt Pecola, way up in the woods around Sumatra. Lydia was small and dark and hot-tempered. Sam suspected she was part Indian, which he considered exotic and attractive. She did nothing to discourage this notion, and would add to the image by braiding her hair and wearing shell jewelry. This evoked a deep passion in Sam, who had been divorced for twenty odd years and was desperately lonely.
Now this strange courtship began at a bend in the river. Sam liked to take his boat out on weekends to watch the wildlife and do a little fishing. She loved to go picking wildflowers and soaking up sun on the sandy river bank. One day Sam came around the bend and saw her sitting there with a colorful bouquet in her hand, her long dark hair shining, and fell in love at first sight. She did not, however, share this emotion.
Lydia was quite irritated at being disturbed on the river bank. And as much as he tried to make small talk, she did not respond, except to be polite. After awhile, he gave up, but came back every weekend hoping to see her again. And when he did, it was not by the river, but in a convenience store. This time, she let out a stream of obscenities and began to tell him about her Aunt Pecola who had just landed herself in jail for being drunk and creating a disturbance. She was on her way to bail her out and bring her back home. He managed to get her phone number this time.
A week later he called and invited her to dinner, which she accepted. Now she was on her way and Sam was frantically trying to get his double-wide in order. He had picked up all the beer cans in the yard and in the house and now had six big sacks of them around back of the shed. He also threw a big quilt over the couch, where his two hounds slept. Now he set the dinner table with plates that matched and some new Dollar Tree silverware. The place was looking good!
But by six o’clock, she hadn’t showed up. He was feeling grim. The potato casserole was getting cold. The shrimp and avocado salad was turning brown. The ice had melted in the ice tea. And he had already finished off the Pinot Grigio. Sam waited and fidgeted and swept the front steps again. Finally, by 7:30, Sam gave up. He called his brother, Mike, and told him to get them some beer. He cleared off the dinner table and set it up for poker. Mike and two of his buddies showed up fifteen minutes later, ready to win some money. But when they came in the door, they smelled the food. “When did you learn to cook?” asked Mike.
They all had a bite to eat and proceeded to open beers and shuffle cards. By 9, they were well into a riveting poker game with big money on the table. Then, there came a knock on the door. It was her! She had on some tight jeans and bright beads and a bottle of whiskey in her hand. “Sorry I’m late,” she explained. “My chickens got out and tore up Aunt Pecola’s garden. She got so mad she tried to kill them, but I stopped her. We’d have been eating chicken for the next five years!”
“That’s awful! I’m afraid we’ve already eaten the dinner, but I can fix you something else,” Sam offered.
“You can fix me a drink!” she replied as she pulled up a chair to the table.
Later, after she’d won most of their money, she got up to leave. “Can’t you stay a little longer? I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer,” asked Sam, hoping to get her alone at last.
“Nope. I’ve got to get back before my aunt gets loose again,” Lydia explained.
“What do you mean loose?” Sam asked. “I left her tied up in the kitchen, but she’s probably chewed through the ropes by now,” she said as she went out the door.
“Good Lord!” exclaimed Mike.
“Ain’t she pretty, though?” Sam put in.
