“I don’t believe they ever did catch him … never did find out who he was … Grady Kilgore, who was a railroad detective friend of Idgie’s, used to come in the cafe every day, and Idgie would laugh and say, ‘I hear ol’ Railroad Bill is still on the loose. What’s the matter with you boys?’ He used to get so mad, they must have put twenty extra men on the trains, at one time or another, and they offered a lifetime pass on the L & N Railroad to whoever had information about him to come forth, but nobody did. Idgie just razzed him to death over that one! But they were always good friends. He was in that Dill Pickle Club …”
“That what?”
Mrs. Threadgoode laughed. “The Dill Pickle Club, this crazy club Idgie and Grady and Jack Butts started.”
“What kind of a club was it?”
“Well, they claimed it was a breakfast and social club, but it was really just a bunch of Idgie’s ragtag friends that would all get together, she and some of the railroad men and Eva Bates and Smokey Lonesome. About all they did was drink whiskey and make up lies. They’d look you right in the eye and tell you a lie when the truth would have served them better.
“That was their fun, making up tales. Crazy tales. One time, Ruth had just come in from church and Idgie was sitting around with them and she said, ‘Ruth, I’m sorry to have to tell this, but while you were gone, Stump swallowed a 22-caliber bullet.’
“When Ruth got all excited, Idgie said, ‘Don’t worry, he’s just fine. I just took him over to Doc Hadley’s and he gave him a half a bottle of castor oil, and said it was all right to bring him home but just be careful not to point him at anyone.’ ”
Evelyn laughed. Mrs. Threadgoode said, “Well, you can imagine that Ruth didn’t care much for the idea of that club. Idgie was the president and she was always calling secret meetings. Cleo said those secret meetings were nothing more than hot polker games. But he said the club did some good things, but they would never tell you about it if they did, they’d deny it every time.
“They didn’t care anything about the Baptist preacher, Reverend Scroggins, ’cause he was a teetotaler, and every time some poor fool would ask where he could buy whiskey or live bait, they’d sent him over to the preacher’s house. Like to have driven him crazy.
“Sipsey was the only colored member, because she could tell lies right along with the rest of them. She told them about this woman she was helping who has having trouble giving birth, and how she gave her a tablespoon of snuff and she said that woman sneezed so hard that she shot that baby clear across the end of the bed and into the other room …”
Evelyn said, “Oh no!”
“Oh yes! Then she told them this tale about her friend Lizzy, over in Troutville, that was expecting a baby and started craving starch. Said that Lizzy took to eating it right out of the box by the handfuls, and sure enough, when that baby came, it was white as snow and stiff as a board …”
“Oh for heaven’s sake.”
“But you know, Evelyn, that could have been true. I know for a fact some of those colored women ate clay right out of the ground.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Well, honey, that’s what I heard. Or maybe it was sticks of chalk. I forget which one. But it was either clay or chalk.”
Evelyn shook her head, smiling at her friend. “Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, you are funny.”
Mrs. Threadgoode thought about it and was pleased with herself and said, “Well, yes. I guess I am at that.”
DECEMBER 1, 1938
Snow Comes to Whistle Stop
What a treat for us, real snow. Whistle Stop could have passed for the North Pole last week. Is there anything prettier than seeing the red holly bushes covered with snow? I think not, but thank heavens it only snows once every ten years. My other half, who thinks he can drive in any sort of weather, was determined to take his old hunting dogs for a ride and skidded into a ditch on 1st Street. So the little lady you see bumming a ride for the next month, until we can get the car fixed, will be me.
Yes, my other half is the same one who went for a ride when we had that hailstorm with hail as big as baseballs and it took us three weeks to get the windshield replaced. He’s the same one that got struck by lightning, fishing down on the river in a rowboat. So the next time you see bad weather coming and you see Wilbur, send him home and I’m gonna put him in the closet and lock him up. I’m afraid a tornado is liable to pick him up and take him on off somewhere … then who would I have to fight with?
I hear through the grapevine that Railroad Bill has hit five trains in one week. I ran into Gladys Kilgore over at the beauty shop, and she says that her husband, Grady, who works for the railroad, is hopping mad.
By the way, if Railroad Bill reads this, how about throwing a brand-new car off one of those trains before Grady catches you … I need one!
… Dot Weems …
DECEMBER 1, 1938
The sun had just come up behind the cafe, and Idgie shook him awake, shouting, “Get up, Stump! Get up! Look!” She pulled him to the window to look out.
The entire field was covered with white.
His mouth flew open. “What is it?”
Idgie laughed. “It’s snow.”
“It is?”
“Yes.”
He was in the third grade and this was the first time in his life he had ever seen real snow.
Ruth came up behind them in her nightgown and looked out, just as surprised.
All three of them got dressed as fast as they could and were out in the yard five minutes later. It was only two inches deep, but they rolled in it and made snowballs. You could hear the doors opening all over town and children shouting with excitement. By seven o’clock that morning, Stump and Idgie had already built a short, fat snowman and Ruth made them snow ice cream with milk and sugar.
Idgie decided to walk Stump to school, and as they looked up the railroad tracks, there was nothing but white for as far as they could see. Stump was still so excited, he was jumping around and fell twice. Idgie decided to tell him a story to calm him down.
“Did I ever tell you the time me and Smokey played polker with Pig Iron Sam?”
“No. Who’s Pig Iron Sam?”
“You mean to tell me you never heard of Pig Iron, the meanest polker player in Alabama?”
“No ma’am.”
“Well, me and Smokey was sitting in this all-night polker game over in Gate City, and I started winning. I guess I won every pot for an hour or so, and Pig Iron was getting madder and madder, but what could I do? I couldn’t quit, not while I was winning like that … that’s not etiquette. And the more I won, the madder he got, and pretty soon he was in a rage and pulled this gun out and put it on the table and said that he was going to kill the next man that dealt him a bad hand.”
Stump was totally engrossed by this time. “Whose turn was it to deal?”
“Well, that’s the irony of it. He forgot it was his turn, and lo and behold, he dealt his own self a pair of two’s. So he just picked up the gun and shot himself to death, right there at the table … a man of his word to the end.”
“Wow. Did you see it?”
“Sure I did. It was a pair of two’s, big as life.”
Stump was thinking it over when he spied something sticking out of the snow beside the track. He ran over and picked it up. “Look, Aunt Idgie, it’s a can of Deer Brand sauerkraut, and it hasn’t even been opened!”