Forever Country (6 page)

“
It is. I still can’t
believe it. Everyone at work was talkin’ about it.”

I think back to the girl
sitting at the bar, the drunken guy, the bouncer, the bartender,
and the band members. Could that sweet girl be the victim? Could
she have lost her life so soon after I met her?
Could any of those guys have killed someone? God, I hope
not.

I take a sip of the hot coffee and follow
Savannah Mae outside.

I stayed talking to Savannah Mae a lot longer
than I intended to. We talk briefly about the local murder, and
then we talk about something more uplifting. I learn she was born
and raised in Crooksville and then moved to Rose Farm after she got
married. She is easy to talk to, and down to earth. I like that.
She runs her hand up and down the arm of the wooden chair.

“
These are nice chairs,” I
admit, honestly.

“
Thank you. My ex-husband
and his father made them. He also made most of the wooden furniture
inside the house.”

I run my hand along the arm and feel the
smooth wood. “Do they own a shop around here?”

“
No. They currently work
out of my ex-husband’s parents’ garage.” She takes a sip of her
coffee. “One day maybe they’ll be able to open a store. They do
great work, but it’s barely enough to pay the bills.”

When my coffee is gone, I decide it’s time
for me to go.

“
Savannah Mae, it was my
pleasure, but I do believe I need to get going.”

I stand and offer her my hand. She takes it
and smiles.

“
Thank you, Abel
Lee.”

I hand her my cup and open the screen door
for her. “Have a good night, Savannah Mae.”

She takes the cup from me. “You, too, Abel
Lee.”

I wait for the click of the door before
turning to leave. I already feel better, knowing that she locks the
doors, at least at night. Placing the hood on my head, I finish my
run.

The next few days leading
up to Thanksgiving, Pops and I get
a
lot
done on the farm. We place plastic over
each window on the farmhouse, replace any burned-out light bulbs on
and in the barn, and go to the old mill and load up on feed for the
animals.

Pops buys a newspaper daily, and we watch the
news when we can. The whole town is concerned and frightened about
the recent murder. I hear bits and pieces about the killing from
the locals, and although I try to not listen to the gossip, it’s
hard not to.

I drive past the County Line Bar and see that
it’s taped off with crime-scene tape. I have to know if the victim
was Megan Rose. I want to see where the body was found, but I can’t
tell from the road.

On Sunday, we go to church. I am surprised to
see the church is full. The sermon is about living your life to the
fullest. He’s talking about the murder, no doubt. After the
service, we all stay for a potluck dinner. The church used to have
potluck on the third Sunday of every month, but they now offer it
every Sunday after church. The women of the congregation said they
had to cook anyway, so they might as well bring the food to the
church. Pops said he readily agreed and thought it was a great
idea. Momma later said that Mrs. Hackler makes a chocolate cake
from scratch and Pops was hoping she would make it every week for
church. I have to admit, it was the best chocolate cake I ever
had.

On Wednesday, before Thanksgiving, Momma and
Mia spend the day at home cooking. It reminded me of past
Thanksgivings. Momma always cleaned several days before the actual
holiday, and cooked all day, the day before. It feels and smells
like Thanksgiving. I have to admit, I’ve missed this. If I could
bottle up the smell and the feel of the holidays on the farm, I
think I could make millions. It just smells and feels that
good.

There’s breaking news on the television
because the name of the murdered girl has finally been released.
I’m in shock when I see a picture of Megan Rose come across the
screen.

They show a picture of the drunken guy and
say he’s wanted for questioning. “Do you know them?” I ask everyone
in the room watching the news.

“
Megan Rose Bower. Everyone
in town knows her,” Mia says. “One of the nicest girls you ever
met.” Everyone in the room is now sitting down and watching the
news broadcast.

“
What about him?” I ask,
referring to the male suspect.

“
Nope, can’t say I know
him,” Mia says.

Levi adds, “I don’t know him, either “If he’s
from around here, they’ll find him. Pretty much everyone in Rose
Farm knows everyone in Rose Farm. Pretty much everyone in
Crooksville knows everyone in Crooksville. The same is true of all
the other little towns around here.”

Momma stands and wipes her hands on her apron
and says sadly, “I reckon we all need to pray a little harder
tonight for Megan Rose’s family. I imagine they don’t see much to
be thankful for this holiday season.”

Right before dinner, Momma packs up several
large containers of food and says, “Are ya’ll ready to go?”

“
I’m ready, Belle,” Pops
says, standing up from the brown rocker/recliner nearest the
fireplace. Mia is removing her apron and Levi is putting his coat
on.

I also stand. “Where we headed?”

“
Every other Wednesday we
go to the church for a community supper.”

“
You mean a soup
kitchen?”

Momma says, “We prefer to call it a community
supper at the church. No since is taking the dignity of the people
who eat there.”

“
It’s the day before
Thanksgiving, are they even open?”

“
Abel Lee,” Momma says
sternly, “just because it’s a holiday doesn’t mean people aren’t
hungry.”

“
Yes, Ma’am.”

I feel like a scolded child and put my boots
on in the bedroom. I think everyone is right, I have been gone too
long. Of course my family would cook and volunteer to feed the
hungry. It’s what they do. When I return, everyone is standing by
the kitchen door with large containers of food.

“
Abel, if you can get that
roaster on the counter, I would appreciate it. Be careful, it’s
mighty hot.” Momma smiles and I feel better.

“
Yes, Ma’am.”

We take two cars to the
church. When we pull up, a small
group
of people are already waiting.
They smile when they see my family getting out of the
car.

“
Larry, Mark, and Pearl,
would you mind givin’ us a hand carryin’ the food?” Pops
asks.

I look over and see three smiling faces
walking towards us.

“
Is that turkey I smell?”
an older man asks.

Momma smiles brightly. “Larry, have I ever
let you down?”

He smiles a toothless smile. His clothes are
worn and dirty. “I can’t say you have, Miss Nell.” He takes a step
closer, and Pops hands him several containers of food. “Smells
mighty good. Been a long time since I had turkey.”

Momma’s smile fades before she says, “You’ll
have to eat extra today then.”

He smiles and starts to walk into the back
door of the church leading to the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am. I think I
can do that.”

Once the food is in the kitchen area, Levi
adjusts the heater, while Pops and Momma get the food ready. The
room fills up quickly and I wonder if there will be enough food.
Fifteen people must be here, including us. I hear a familiar voice
and turn to see Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson walking through the
back door. She’s carrying a large Crock-Pot and a tote bag.

She sees me and smiles. I nod. Before I can
get over to help her, Pops is at her side. I’m surprised and happy
to see her here. Sawyer Jackson stays close by her side, and Mia
rushes over to hug her. It’s a small community, so I’m not
surprised they know each other.

I help set all the food out in a line and
Sawyer stacks the paper plates and other paper items on the other
side of the serving window. There’s no television on or music
playing, just the sound of polite conversation filling up the spare
room.

Levi makes coffee while Mia and Savannah Mae
cut the desserts.

“
Everything all right,
Abel?”

I look at Momma and say, “Just taking it all
in.” I look around the room filled with people. Most of them are
sitting around the folding tables on gray metal chairs. Some are
standing up and talking to each other. “How does this work?”

“
The church opens up the
kitchen every Wednesday and calls it a community kitchen. They
provide a free meal to the community,” Momma says. “Everyone is
welcome and anyone can come.”

I look out the window at
the church sign: Free Community Supper Every Wednesday.
I then, look at Momma and ask, “Who supplies the
food to feed everyone?”

“
Those who volunteer that
day are responsible for preparin’ enough food for everyone.
Sometimes we fix it at home and bring it in and sometimes we make
it at the church. It all depends.” Momma looks around the room. “We
try to make it fair for everyone. People struggle certain times of
the month. As you know, certain foods are cheap and can stretch a
long way. Sometimes the meals are all-you-can-eat pancakes and
eggs, soup beans and cornbread, or rice and beans.”

I furrow my brows together. “Where do these
people come from?”

Momma sadly looks around
the room again. “They’re all locals. People who have lost their
jobs, or who have become ill
and can no
longer work or cook.”

“
Are there always this many
people?”

“
No, not usually. It’s
Thanksgiving. I think that brought out more people than
normal.”

“
You ready to start
serving?” Levi asks.

“
We are.”

Everyone stands and Pops says the grace. Once
the food is blessed, we all do our part in serving everyone. Even
Sawyer Jackson does something to help. He stands on a chair and
hands the plates out for our guests. Once everyone is eating, we
all get a plate and sit down at the table to eat. I look around the
room, and I see my family has all separated and is eating dinner
with other people. It looks and feels like a casual dinner at a
diner. I see an empty seat near Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson,
and I decide to sit there.

I sit down quietly to not interrupt the
conversation already going on.

“
Are you sure you want a
turkey?” someone asks Sawyer Jackson.

“
Yep, it’s Thanksgiving. It
has to be a turkey.”

“
Okay, as soon as dinner is
over, I’ll make you a turkey.”

Savannah Mae tries to
include me on the conversation already taking place. “Larry here
makes the best balloon
creations
around.”

“
Really? That takes some
serious talent.”

“
Thank you. Unfortunately,
it’s talent that doesn’t pay the bills,” Larry says.

Sawyer Jackson pipes in and says excitedly,
“Yep, Larry can make anything you want.”

The conversation at the table flows easily.
Savannah Mae looks over at my plate and frowns. “Didn’t like my
soup?”

I look around the table and everyone has a
bowl of soup sitting in front of them. I didn’t take the soup
because I didn’t want to take food from the people who need it.

“
We’re out of bowls,” I
lie.

She leans into me and
whispers, “There’s plenty of food
and
bowls.”

I stand and get a bowl of Savannah Mae’s
soup.

After dinner we all clean
up. I watch Larry
go to the kitchen drawer
and remove a few brown, yellow, red, and orange balloons. I decide
to observe for a few minutes. I toss the dishrag on the kitchen
counter and join Larry and Sawyer Jackson at the table.

Savannah Mae also joins us. Taking a seat
across the table from me, she raises a brow, smiles, and says,
“Watch this.”

I turn my attention to
Larry. He blows the long thin balloons up and ties them off. It
makes my
cheeks
hurt just to watch him. Soon he turns the brown, red, yellow,
and orange balloons into a beautiful turkey complete with a beard.
Sawyer Jackson jumps up excitedly and thanks Larry for making him
the “best turkey, ever.”

Sawyer Jackson jumps down from the table and
shows everyone in the room. I look from Savannah Mae, who is
grinning ear to ear, before looking at Larry, who is also
smiling.

“
That’s very
impressive.”

Larry looks up at me. “It’s nothin’.”

“
How did you learn to do
that?”

He runs his hand across his graying beard.
“My granddaddy taught me many years ago.”

“
That takes skills.”
That definitely takes talent.

“
A bunch of useless
skills,” he mumbles from under his breath as he stands to walks
away.

I watch Larry walk away from the table. He
joins some of the others at the far end of the room. Savannah Mae
turns to face me, and I say, “Not much work in these parts
requiring balloon animals.” I look to Savannah Mae, who is still
watching Sawyer Jackson.

“
No, I guess
not.”

Savannah Mae

I watch as Abel Lee looks around the room. I
follow his eyes as he watches Sawyer Jackson play with his balloon
turkey. I smile. Anytime I watch my son, I smile. He is so young
and innocent and pure at heart.