It's funny, Evelyn thought. Because of knowing Mrs. Threadgoode, she was not as scared of getting old or dying as she had once been, and death did not seem all that far away. Even today, it was as if Mrs. Threadgoode was just standing behind a door.
Evelyn began quietly speaking to her friend. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten out here sooner, Mrs. Threadgoode. You'll never know how many times I've thought about you and wished I could speak to you. I felt so bad I didn't get to see you before you died. I just never dreamed in a million years that I would never see you again. I never did get a chance to thank you. If it hadn't been for you talking to me like you did every week, I don't know what I would have done."
She paused for a moment, and then went on, "I got that pink Cadillac for us, Mrs. Threadgoode. I thought it would make me happy, but you know, it didn't mean half as much without you to go for a ride in it with me. I've often wished I could come and pick you up and we could go on a Sunday drive, or over to Ollie's for some barbecue."
She moved to the other side of the headstone and continued pulling the weeds and talking. "I've been asked to do some work with the mental health group, over at the university hospital . . . and I might do it." She laughed. "I told Ed, I might as well work for a disease I've had."
"And you're not going to believe this, Mrs. Threadgoode, but I'm a grandmother now. Twice. Janice had twin girls. And you remember Ed's mother, Big Momma? Well, we put her over at Meadowlark Manor, and she likes it much better, and I was just as glad. . . . I hated going out to Rose Terrace after you died. The last time I went, Geneene told me that Vesta Adcock is crazy as ever, still upset over Mr. Dunaway leaving.
"Everybody misses you: Geneene, your neighbors the Hartmans . . . I went out there and got the things you left me, and I use those recipes all the time. Oh, by the way, I've lost forty-three pounds since the last time you saw me. I still have five more to go.
"And, let's see, your friend Ocie died last month, but then, I guess you know that. Oh, I knew there was another thing I had to tell you:
"Remember that picture of you in the blue polka-dotted dress, you made down at Loveman's? I have it framed and sitting on my occasional table in the living room, and when one of my customers saw it, she said, 'Evelyn, you look exactly like your mother! . . . Isn't that something, Mrs. Threadgoode?"
Evelyn told her friend everything she could think of that had happened in the last year, and she didn't leave until she felt sure in her heart that Mrs. Threadgoode knew she was really okay.
Evelyn was smiling and happy as she walked back to the car; but as she passed Ruth's grave, she stopped.
Something was there that hadn't been there before. Sitting on the headstone was a glass jar filled with freshly cut little pink sweetheart roses. Beside the jar was an envelope addressed in thin, scratchy handwriting:
FOR RUTH JAMISON
Surprised, Evelyn picked up the envelope. Inside was an old-fashioned Easter card, with a picture of a little girl holding a basket of multicolored eggs. She opened the card:
FOR A SPECIAL PERSON AS NICE AS YOU,
WHO'S KIND AND CONSIDERATE IN ALL YOU DO,
THE FAIREST, THE SQUAREST,
MOST LOVING AND TRUE,
THAT ALL ADDS UP TO
WONDERFUL YOU!
And the card was signed:
I'll always remember.
Your friend.
The Bee Charmer
Evelyn stood with the card in her hand and looked all around the cemetery; but no one was there.
MARCH 17, 1988
Elderly Woman Reported Missing
Mrs. Vesta Adcock, an 83-year-old resident of the Rose Terrace Nursing Home, apparently walked off the premises yesterday, after announcing that she needed a breath of fresh air, and has not returned.
When last seen, she was wearing a pink chenille robe with fox furs, royal-blue fuzzy-type slippers, and may have been wearing a red stocking cap and carrying a black beaded purse.
A bus driver remembered someone answering to that description getting on his bus near the home late yesterday and asking for a transfer.
If you have seen anyone fitting that description, you are asked to call Mrs. Virginia Mae Schmitt, director of the nursing home, at 555-7760.
The woman's son, Mr. Earl Adcock, Jr., of New Orleans, said that his mother may have become disoriented.
Elderly Woman Found in Love Nest
MARCH 20, 1988
Mrs. Vesta Adcock, an 83-year-old woman who had been reported missing from the Rose Terrace Nursing Home four days ago, has been found residing at the Bama Motel in East Lake. Her male companion, Mr. Walter Dunaway, 80, of Birmingham, suffered a mild stroke and was admitted to the university hospital for observation early today.
Mrs. Adcock asked to be returned to the nursing home and was very despondent, because, as she said, "Walter is not the man I thought he was."
Mr. Dunaway is listed in satisfactory condition.
MARIANNA, FLORIDA
MAY 22, 1988
Bill and Marion Neal and their eight-year-old daughter Patsy had been driving all day when they passed the roadside stand that advertised: FRESH EGGS, HONEY, FRESH FRUIT AND VEGETABLES, FRESH CATFISH, COLD DRINKS.
They were thirsty, so Bill turned around and went back. When they got out, nobody was there; but they saw two old men in overalls sitting under a huge water oak tree, out behind the stand. One of the men got up and started walking toward them.
"Hi there, folks. What can I do for you today?"
When she heard the voice, Marion realized it was not an old man but an old woman with snow-white hair and brown, weatherbeaten skin. "We'd like three Coca-Colas, please."
Patsy was staring at the jars of honey lined up on the shelf.
While the old woman was opening the three frosty Cokes, Patsy pointed to one of the jars of honey and asked, "What's in that jar?"
"Why, that's honeycomb, right out of the hive. Haven't you ever seen that before?"
Patsy was fascinated. "No ma'am."
"Where are you folks from?"
Marion said, "Birmingham."
"Well, I'll be. I used to live in a little town just on the other side. You've probably never heard of it: little place called Whistle Stop."
Bill said, "Oh sure. Where the railroad yards used to be. They had a barbecue joint out there, as I remember."
The old woman smiled. "That's right."
Bill pointed to her sign. "Didn't know you got catfish down this far."
"Sure we do, saltwater cat, but I don't have any today."
She looked at the little blond girl to see if she was listening. "Last week I caught one, but it was so big we couldn't pull it out of the water."
Patsy said, "Really?"
The old woman's blue eyes sparkled. "Oh, yes indeed. As a matter of fact, that catfish was so big, we took a picture of it, and the picture alone weighed forty pounds."
The little girl cocked her head to one side, trying to figure it out. "Are you sure?”
"Sure I'm sure. But if you don't believe me . . ." She turned around and called up to the old man in the yard, "Hey, Julian! Go in the house and bring me that picture of the catfish we caught last week."
He called back lazily, "Cain't do it . . . it's too heavy for me to carry. Might hurt my back . . ."
"See, I told you."