Othelia's Back Porch
Miss Othelia is the oldest and wisest person in the Holler, so out of respect,
and because she saved Tater's bacon a time or two, we give her her own page
.

Maud

Lord, it sounds like everyone here was a wild killer, or a sicko. That just ain't so, maybe just the way I've been telling things. We have our share, it seems. There's good folks too. You just have to search a little harder for those ones to tell about. There's my cousin Maud, she was a kind soul, never hurt a flea. 'Course the fleas certainly seemed to take up residence with her, and she didn't live past 45. Can't imagine what made that pneumonia take her, unless it was diving into the pond in January with that young fella.


Maud was quite ordinary. She grew up with the requisite number of small town brothers and sisters, she had two normal parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Her mama was a housewife, her daddy worked as a mechanic for old man Talbert over at the garage. They didn't have a lot of money, but then no one did back then. Maud went to the local school - did I tell you we had a two room school house? - which went up through the 8th grade. Maudie wasn't much for books, but she dearly loved nature, so gettin' a job at Miss Betsy's flower shop seemed the natural thing for her to do at 14. She worked there for 25 years, owned it after 15, Miss Betsy having passed on by that time.


By all accounts, Maudie was as straight arrow as they come. She didn't lie, cheat on her husband, or steal from the till. Well, 'least not til later. Maudie was good with the plants and flowers she surrounded herself with all day, but wasn't all that great with people. She managed enough to run the shop as long as she always had a girl from the high school clerkin', but mostly folks that went in knew what they wanted, and didn't have much choice on where to get it, Miss Betsy's bein' the only place in town. (The name never did change, even after Miss Betsy died. "Miss Betsy's" it was, and would always be.) They did little garden shows too, sold seedlings in the spring, and had the most wonderful dahlia sale every fall! Most of that sort of thing was Maudie's idea. She was good at thinkin' up events, even good at puttin' them on, 'long as she didn't have to be the one at the front gate greetin' folks and convincin' them they ought to buy the merchandise.


If there was one thing that Maud liked even more than her plants and flowers, it was dogs. I've never been a big dog person myself, you all know I'm more accustomed to the quite company of cats than the raucus company of dogs, but Maudie loved them.  Big, small, furry or nearly hairless, didn't make much difference to Maudie, 'long as there was someone to romp in the woods with.


Maudie married George Parsons, and the most I can say about that man is, well, he was a tolerant man, I guess. Not much to him, as I recall, one of those "beige folks."  You know the kind - no color, no flash, not much on the inside or the outside of him to make him memorable to any but his immediate kin. Even most of them seemed to forget about him most of the time, if all I hear is right. I can't even recall if the man is alive or dead at this point, more shame to me.


Let's see, I was telling you about Maud, but my glass is quite empty. That's a hint, boy, pay attention!


Maudie and George stayed married for about 20 years or so. Something happened to that woman when she turned 40 though. Mid-life crisis, I guess, though it seems it's more common with men, than women. If you ask me, for the most part, women just don't have time for that nonsense. Maudie and George never did have any kids. Just a few dogs, (well, six is probably more than a few, I suppose,) a chicken or two, and a goat they kept tethered out back to keep the weeds down in the field out behind the house. It was that goat that got Maudie into trouble.


Goats don't care all that much for their own company. They like bein' around other goats, and having "folks" to talk to. Four footed or hooved folks, to be sure, but nonetheless, they just like company, them bein' herd animals, after all. So, after that she-goat grew up from bein' a baby, and was spendin' full time out in the field, she got kinda lonely. She was pretty good at keepin' the weeds down, but she used to make the most horrible bleating sound on and off all day long. Sort of expressing her loneliness and indignation with the world, I imagine. The company of dogs didn't seem to be high on her list, and they mostly ignored her once they figured out that she wasn't allowed to run free in the woods like they were.


The only thing Maudie could think to do, was to spend more time out back with the goat, so's she wouldn't pine so loudly, quite so often. The property wasn't big enough to support sheep, or any more goats, so other animal company was out as an option. Now, I don't know if something went wrong in Maudie's head from all that bleating or if she just preferred that she-goat's company over George's, but she eventually took to sleeping out back with the goat in the summertime. That's how she ended up with a case of the fleas.


Sundays, Maudie always walked to church. Only now, (at least, the now in this part of the story,) she brought her goat along for the company. The preacher fianlly told her she not only had to leave the goat outside, but that she would have to stand way in the back of the church, so as not to infect the whole place with the fleas she just couldn't seem to get rid of. Since there's a whole passel of nastinesses that can go along with flea infestations, I can't say as I blame him.


Once the preacher banned Maudie to the back of the church, the whole town knew of her humiliation. Now, I think she should have just gotten rid of that dern goat, and made George get a riding mower instead to keep the field under control, but I guess neither George nor Maudie were willing to do that. Heck, maybe George liked Maudie being out of his hair, and sleeping out back. Anyway, autumn was beginning to turn cold, and Maudie wouldn't be able to stay out back with the goat for too much longer anyhow. Something was going to have to be done, but no one guessed what would happen next.


Autumn turned to winter, and rather than driving Maudie back into the house with George, it drove both Maudie and the goat inside, and George straight out the front door and to room 104 at the Piney Meadows Motel. Maudie continued to take the goat to church with her, but kept him tethered outside during services, and sat by herself in one of those metal fold-up chairs in the back.


Some time after Christmas, right before New Year's, Maudie made a couple of new friends. Or, least-wise, they made themselves out to be friends. Everybody but Maudie saw that these boys weren't out to befriend her, but to humiliate her. Remember, Maudie wasn't all that comfortable with human folks, preferring instead to bein' in the company of plants, dogs, and her goat for many years. She wasn't all that experienced with the tricks and treacheries of boys out to have a good time at the expense of everyone but themselves.


One of those two Corners boys (I don't mean to slander the folks from the Corners, but I tell you now, so many of them have been nothing but trouble for over 50 years, that it's become almost an epithet,) convinced Maudie that to get rid of her flea infestation, she and the goat would have to go skinnydipping in Wilmore's Pond on New Year's Day, right at dawn. I don't know what all sort of claptrap they filled Maudie's head with, but they did, and she did; she jumped, the dogs jumped, and only the goat seemed to have any sense at all that day, and refused to jump.


Now, you already know the end of the story, but it seemed to be the thing to do to fill you in on the middle part, so you'd know how a good woman like Maudie ended up with no husband, six wet dogs, two chickens, a goat, fleas, and pneumonia in the middle of January.