Grandpa’s Courtship
Katrina Parker Williams
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 Katrina Parker Williams
All rights reserved.
A publication of Step Art Designs
Grandpa’s Courtship
It was early on a Saturday morning, and Horace, Jason, and Buddy were working in the corn fields. It was late spring, and they were planting the season’s corn crop. A mule led the plow, which Horace navigated, making furrows. His grandson Buddy came behind him, dropping corn in the furrows, and Horace’s hired farmhand Jason would follow, covering the corn, all of them continuing this process for the next row and the next and the next until a huge field of corn was laid, time-consuming work that would make Horace consider giving up the trade every season when he’d think about how much work it would take to plant a field of corn.
They had just finished setting a row of corn, trying to finish by mid-morning, and were heading toward the other end of the row near the road that led to the local colored Baptist church when they saw a stout figure, distorted by jagged rays of sunlight, heading toward them. They stopped abruptly, wondering who it was, a hand waving in the air, the figure talking to the wind as it barreled down the corn row, a fireball of dust trailing behind it. As the figure got closer, Horace recognized it. It was Miss Margaret, and she was fired up mad.
“Horace Johnson!” she yelled. “If I ain’t never seen a man so hard-nosed set in his stubborn-as-a-mule and mean-as-an-ass ways, I would never in my lifetime see it!”
Jason and Buddy were stunned at first, but they knew why Miss Margaret laid into Horace. Horace had no warning, so he couldn’t get away before he was barraged by verbal assaults from the irritated colored woman.
“You are the stubbornest, orneriest, crankiest, belligerent, ill-tempered, crabbiest, cantankerousest, grouchiest, old negro—,” Miss Margaret added before being cut off.
“Miss Margaret…now… Miss Margaret, I ain’t gone be no more of your negroes,” Horace interjected.
“Loud-mouthed, quarrelsome, grumpy, tetchy, surly…,” she continued.
“Now, Miss Margaret, you better tell me what’s got your panties in a pinch,” Horace said sternly.
Jason and Buddy burst out laughing, which only angered the irate woman.
“You dirty, old letch!” Miss Margaret yelled. “How dare you use such devilish, sinful, vile, despicable, wicked language with me?”
And as quickly as Miss Margaret came down the corn row, she turned on her heels and left in a blur, leaving Horace speechless. Jason and Buddy bawled over in laughter.
“What y’all laughing at?” Horace said irritably, watching as Miss Margaret made her way angrily down the corn row, her floral print dress swaying from side to side in unison with the determined stride of her hefty hips.
“You!” Jason retorted, letting out a deep guffaw.
“Hush up, you fools!” Horace yelled. “Get back to work!”
Jason nudged Buddy in the side, both of them still overcome with laughter.
“I said, get back to work!” Horace repeated angrily, slapping the mule on the hind parts and shouting, “Gitty up! You stubborn ass!”
Jason and Buddy burst into another fit of laughter, annoying Horace even more.