DISASTER AT THE OLD WASH HOLE
Granddaddy eased the old pickup truck along the dirt road, then turned off onto a smaller road that was not much more than two ruts through the woods. The trees slapped the sides of the truck and my brothers and I had to lay down in the back of the truck to keep from getting knocked in the head by a tree limb. Grandma and Grandpa were sitting up front laughing and talking.
We were on the way to a picnic at the old wash hole on Hard Labor Creek. We could hardly wait to get there. A few minutes later Grandpa stopped the truck in a small clearing and we all piled out of the back, ready to go. It was still five hundred feet to the creek. Little Lee was running with his arms outstretched and turning in circles trying to sound like a dive bombing airplane.
Grandpa unloaded the truck and handed everyone something to carry. Grandma had the picnic basket, I had the blankets and towels, Eddie had the fishing poles, Lee had the worms, and Grandpa had the ice chest full of tea and drinks. We started down the overgrown path to the creek with Grandpa leading and Grandma bringing up the rear.
"Watch out for those Highland Moccasins," Grandpa said. The way it came out it sounded like 'hollering moccasins.' I shivered a bit as I visualized a coiled snake with his head drawn back ready to strike and a hollering sound coming from his mouth. Everyone slowed down and became a bit more vigilant.
We wound through the underbrush and Eddie jumped back and yelled, "Look out. It's a hollering moccasin." Everyone halted just a bit and then Eddie laughed. "Got ya," he said.
"I'm gonna get your behind, young man," said Grandma.
Just ahead, Grandpa stopped and set down the ice chest. We all stopped for a quick rest. He wandered into the woods and shouted back, "Look here. Here's some nice bullisters."
I went into the woods behind him because if there was anything I loved, it was muscadines. We examined the berries and he said, "They're just a bit green now. Maybe we'll come back next week and check on them. They ought to be just about right in a week or so."
We went back to the path, picked up our loads, and headed toward the creek. I was ready to eat. There was no better cook in the world than Grandma. She had a picnic basket full of fried chicken, country ham biscuits, potato salad, snap peas, and coconut cake. There were three gallons of sweet tea in the ice chest. My mouth was watering.
Five minutes later we were in a clearing by the wash hole. There was a wide bend in the creek, a nice grassy field, and trees with big heavy branches just right for swinging out over the creek. In fact, there was a rope already hanging from one of the trees. This was not the first time we had been here.
"Granddaddy, why do they call this the wash hole," I asked.
"Well, back in earlier times, there were settlers that lived along Hard Labor creek. Most of them were from Germany. There used to be some cabins in these woods but they are all gone now. The settlers got their water and fish from this creek. The women used to wash their clothes down there on those big rocks. They would wash and beat the dirt out of the laundry, right there."
"I wish those cabins were still around," I said.
"Me too," said Grandma.
Little Lee was still making like an airplane in his starched khaki shorts, yellow T-shirt, and white sandals. Eddie was already down by the creek testing the rope. "Can I go swimming, now?" he called.
"Not until an hour after dinner," said Grandma. "I want to eat while everything's still warm. Then we'll fish a bit and later you can go swimming."
Eddie moped back up to the picnic spot with his lower lip poking out. He had a dark expression on his face. I unfolded the blankets and spread them out on the ground. Grandpa started putting tea in mason jars. When everything was finally ready, we dug in. No one thought of swimming now. The food was just too good.
When we were finished, Grandma said, "Here. Take these cane poles and worms down to the creek and see if you can catch a couple of fish that we can take home. Eddie grabbed the poles and the worms and headed to a good shady spot on the creek bank. Little Lee and Granddaddy followed.
"I'm going to go exploring for awhile," I said. "I want to see if I can find any old cabins in the woods."
"Well, don't go too far," said Granddaddy, "and watch where you step."
I headed back along the trail we had come in on and wandered around for awhile. I found some old rocks piled up that might have been where a cabin once stood. I couldn't tell for sure though. After a few minutes, I found myself back at the muscadine bushes. I stood there for a few minutes looking and finally ate one. It's common knowledge that no one can eat just one muscadine and I quickly found myself stuffing them in my mouth. They were good even though they were still green and a bit sour.
I sat down on the ground underneath a large oak tree and soon found myself snoozing. A few minutes later I felt Eddie shaking my shoulder. "Neal," he said. "It's time to go swimming. An hour has already passed."
"OK," I said. "Did you catch any fish?"
"I caught two mudcats. That's all though."
We got back to the wash hole and I stepped behind some bushes and put on my swimming trunks. Eddie and Lee were already changed. We headed down the creek bank and stuck our toes in the water.
Granddaddy said, "Look over there. There's a big snapping turtle. Stay away from him. If he bites you, he won't turn aloose until it thunders. And if he snaps one of your goober's it'll be too wet to plow."
We watched the turtle as he slowly swam away down stream. We searched the creek but there were no others, that we could see, anyway. Lee took my hand and we stepped into the water. Overhead, Eddie swung by screaming like a wild banshee. He dropped into the water and came up a minute later laughing.
Grandma and Grandpa sat on the creek bank talking and watching to make sure we didn't drown. Grandpa was whittling on a stick that he had picked up off the ground.
Little Lee was dogpaddling around the edges and kept swimming from the bank toward middle of the creek and then back. He was testing his limits. Eddie was bigger and stronger and he swam back and forth across the stream. I wandered upstream a bit. The water was not too deep in most places and I could easily touch bottom and stand up.
"Watch out that you don't step in a hole," yelled Grandpa.
I wandered up the creek and turned to look back down stream. Eddie's feet were out of the water and he was trying to do hand stands. Mud was swirling up around him where he was kicking and tumbling in the water. Lee was dogpaddling out to the center, a little further each time.
I was standing in the middle of the creek with the water streaming by when I felt it. At first I didn't know what it was, but then I felt it again. A terrible pain shot through my gut and I knew I could not make it to the bank. I turned around so they couldn't see my face and dropped my trunks. Just in time, too. Please Lord, let it be a small one. My prayers weren't answered. I pulled up my trunks and looked around, wondering if anybody had seen.
I turned and looked back down stream. Eddie was getting ready to flip over again when I saw it heading straight for him.
"Turd," I yelled. "Turd in the water."
It was too late to stop Eddie and he flipped over. He came up face-to-face with it.
"Turd," I yelled again. "Turd in the water."
Eddie frantically tried to sweep
it away with his hands but it hit him anyway. He jumped back and screamed, "Good Lord, have mercy." The turd hit him square in the face.
I looked down stream and Little Lee was thrashing around in the water, no longer swimming. He was flailing around hollering, "Turd, Turd, Turd!"
Grandpa was up and heading down the bank to pull him out. Eddie was jumping up and down, sweeping his hands back and forth across the water trying to keep it away. He used a vocabulary of words that none of us had ever heard him say before and Grandma was yelling, "Eddie, stop using that blackguard talk."
I eased over to the bank, hoping that no one had figured out what had happened. Eddie got back to the bank and was down at the edge of the water frantically scrubbing his face and arms with the creek water.
A minute later, I was lying on the ground gasping to catch my breath. Grandma was holding Lee who was wrapped in a towel, crying and shivering. Eddie was stomping around red faced and mad as hell.
"Where did that thing come from Granddaddy?" he cried. "Where did it come from?"
Grandpa looked over at me and said, "Ask your brother. He's the one who ate all those green muscadines."
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