"Well, all right, but get your hat, Stump."
He ran out the door. "Bye, Momma."
Ruth handed Idgie his hat. “Try to get back before dark."
"I will. Don't worry."
They piled into the car and headed to Birmingham.
At twelve o'clock that night, a frantic Ruth received a phone call from Smokey, saying not to worry, that they were all right. He hung up before Ruth had a chance to ask where they were.
At five forty-five the next morning, Ruth and Sipsey were in the kitchen getting ready for the breakfast crowd. Onzell had stayed home with Naughty Bird, who was getting worse. Ruth was a nervous wreck, worrying over Stump, Idgie, and Smokey, who had not come home yet.
"She's gonna be back," Sipsey said "Dat's jest her way, she's always runnin' off. You know she ain't gwine let nothin’ happen to dat boy."
An hour later, while Grady Kilgore and the boys were having their morning coffee, they heard a horn blowing, coming toward the cafe. Then, from far off, they heard the sound of Christmas bells jangling, getting louder and louder. They all got up to look out the window and couldn't believe their eyes.
Next door, at the beauty shop, Opal, who had just slung a teacup of bright green Palmolive shampoo on her six-thirty customer's head, looked out the window and screamed so loud that it scared poor Biddie Louis Otis nearly half to death.
Miss Fancy, all decked out in her leather ankle bracelets with her bells and her bright purple feather plume, was happily strolling by the cafe, her snout waving in the air, thoroughly enjoying the scenery. She headed over the tracks to Troutville.
When Sipsey came out of the kitchen and saw the huge animal floating past the window, she ran into the ladies room and locked the door behind her.
A second later, Stump burst into the cafe. "Momma! Momma! Come on!" And he ran out, pulling Ruth behind him.
As Miss Fancy sauntered down the red dirt roads of Troutville, doors started flying open and the air became filled with the sounds of children screaming with delight. Their dumbfounded parents, many still in robes and pajamas, with their hair still done up in rags, were speechless.
J. W. Moldwater, Miss Fancy's trainer, was walking beside her. He had been in a bout with old man whiskey last night and had come out the loser. He was now wishing that the children, who were running along beside him and jumping up and down like Mexican jumping beans, screaming in loud, ear-piercing squeals, would be quiet.
He turned to Idgie, walking along with him. "Where's she live at?"
"Just follow me."
Onzell, still in her apron, ran out of the house and yelled for Big George. He came around the side of the house holding the hatchet he'd been chopping wood with, and stood there for a minute, not believing what he was seeing. Then he looked at Idgie and said softly, "Thank ya, Miss Idgie. Thank ya."
He put his hatchet against the side of the house and went inside. Carefully, he began wrapping the thin little girl up in a quilt. "Der's somebody dat come all the way from Birmingham to see you dis morning, baby . . ." And he carried her onto the front porch.
When they came out, J. W. Moldwater nudged his wrinkled friend with a stick, and the old circus veteran sat up on her hind legs and greeted Naughty Bird with a loud trumpet.
Naughty Bird's eyes lit up and filled with wonder at the sight in the yard. She said, "Ohhhh, it's Miz Fancy, Daddy . . . it's Miz Fancy."
Ruth put her arm in Onzell's and watched as the trainer with the hangover led the elephant to the edge of the porch. He gave Naughty Bird a five-cent bag of peanuts and told her she could feed them to her if she wanted to.
Willie Boy could only be seen peeking through the window. The other children had also kept their distance from this big, gray thing, the size of a house. But Naughty Bird had no fear and fed her the peanuts, one by one, while she talked to Miss Fancy like an old friend, telling her how old she was and what grade she was in.
Miss Fancy blinked her eyes and seemed to be listening. She took the peanuts from the little girl, one at a time, as gently as a gloved woman getting a dime out of a change purse.
Twenty minutes later, Naughty Bird waved goodbye to the elephant and J. W. Moldwater began the long walk home to Birmingham. He vowed that he would never take another drink and would never, ever get involved in an all-night poker game with strangers.
Naughty Bird went inside and ate three buttermilk biscuits with honey.
SEPTEMBER 15, 1924
Two weeks after Ruth Jamison left to go home and get married, Idgie drove into Valdosta and parked on the main street, in front of the newspaper office, next to the barbershop. About an hour later, she got out and walked across the street into the grocery store on the corner. It looked very much like her poppa's store, only bigger, with a wooden floor and high ceilings.
She wandered around, looking at all the stuff. Soon, a balding man in a white apron said, "Can I help you, miss? What you gonna need today?"
Idgie told him she'd have some saltine crackers and a couple of slices of that cheese he had out on the counter. While he was slicing the cheese, Idgie said, "You don't happen to know if Frank Bennett is in town today, do you?"
"Who?"
"Frank Bennett."
"Oh, Frank. Naw, he usually just comes on up here on Wednesday to the bank, or sometimes he gets a haircut across the street. Why? You need to see him?"
"No, I don't even know him. I was just wondering what he looked like."
"Who?"
"Frank Bennett."
He handed Idgie her crackers and cheese. "You want anything to drink with that?"
"No, this is fine."
He took her money. "What does he look like? Well, let's see. .. . Oh, I don't know, just like anybody, I guess. He's kind of a big fellow . . . got black hair, blue eyes . . . of course, he's got that one glass eye."
"A glass eye?"
"Yeah, he lost it in the war. Other than that, I'd say he's a nice-looking fellow."
"How old is he?"
"Oh, I guess he's about thirty-four or thirty-five, somewhere around in there. His daddy left him about eight hundred acres of land about ten miles south of town, so he doesn't come in much anymore."
"Is he nice? I mean, is he well liked?"
"Frank? Oh, I'd say so. Why do you ask?"
"I was just wondering. My cousin is engaged to him and I was just wondering."
"You're Ruth's cousin? Oh! Now, there's a fine person. Now, she's well thought of. I've known Ruth Jamison since she was a little girl. Always so polite. . . . She teaches my granddaughter Sunday School. Are you visiting her?"
Idgie changed the subject. "I think I'd better have me something to drink with these crackers."
"I thought you would. What you want? Milk?"
"Naw, I don't like milk."
"You want a cold drink?"
"Do you have a strawberry drink?"
"Sure do."
"Give me one of them."
He went to the drink box to get her drink. "We're all pleased Ruth is going to marry Frank. She and her mother have had such a hard time of it since her daddy died. Last year, some of us over at the church tried to help out, but she won't take a cent. Proud. . . . But then, I'm not telling you anything you don't know. Are you staying with them?"
"No. I haven't seen them yet."
"Well, you know where the house is, don't you? It's just two blocks down. I can run you over there if you like. Did she know you were coming?"
"No, that's all right. I'll tell you the truth, mister, it would be better if they didn't know I was here. I'm just passing through on business, I'm a traveling saleswoman for the Rosebud Perfume Company."