Chapter Text
For Eleanor Harper, growing up in Pine Lake, Georgia meant spending many a warm evening out on the veranda of her family's old plantation home. She and her daddy would sit side by side, sipping their cool glasses of sweet tea, discussing the day's events. After a time, they would settle into a comfortable silence, relaxing to the chorus of the katydid insects. The insects were named after their song because to some it sounded like they were saying back and forth "katydid, katydidn't, katydid, katydidn't."
Curious, Eleanor asked her father "Why do you spend so much time out here at night?" She added, "You don't come out here during the day, except if Mama asks you to come join her and say hello to her guests."
He gave it some thought before replying, "During the war it was never really quiet." Eleanor recalled the morning he went off to fight in the Spanish American War. It was April 20th, three days after her eighth birthday. He was only gone for a few months, returning that August, but her mother had admonished her to keep it down. "Daddy needs his rest." Staring out into the darkness, he went on, "Even at night it was difficult to find a peaceful moment to just sit and gather your thoughts." The precocious child nodded her head, I understand.
Eleanor would always look back on the memories of her childhood with a great deal of fondness. Her husband David enjoyed teasing her about the wistful expression she wore as she reminisced about these times spent with her father.
Now a wife and mother, Eleanor McCoy carried on this tradition with her son Leonard. She wished him to experience the same feelings of contentment that she herself felt as a child. Each evening they would head outdoors with their cool glasses of sweet tea (made using the same Harper family recipe handed down through the generations).
These nights found her sitting in a rocker on the porch of the McCoy family farmhouse, son sitting at her feet, head resting on his mother's lap. As they discussed the day's events, she would run her fingers through Leonard's hair. No, that's Len's hair, she reminded herself with a smile. A few months ago, on the morning of his twelfth birthday, he had come downstairs, and announced that he would now appreciate it if they would start calling him Len.
"After all, I am practically a grown man, mom and dad." This pronouncement also meant that he was now much too mature to be cuddling with his mother like he did when he was a child.
Every now and again though, particularly on a trying day, he would feel in need of his mother's comfort. Tonight he lay with his head in her lap--his day had been utterly exhausting. Eleanor gazed at her boy with fondness. He was finding the social drama that came with being in the sixth grade a bit challenging, to say the least.
Finally ready to talk, Len said, "Mom, why is everything so different this year?" He whispered, "Why are the girls acting so weird?"
"Well honey, if I had to hazard a guess, I would say some of them are at the age where they no longer are content with being known as tomboys."
He exclaimed, "What! None of them said anything about that." Sounding skeptical, he asked, "How do you know about stuff like this?"
Flabbergasted, Eleanor replied, "Good lord Leonard!" Shaking her head as she continued, "I was a young girl for a time before becoming your mother."
Unfortunately for her son, his female classmates had morphed into these strange, perplexing creatures whose behavior baffled their male chums.
It required a great deal of self-control for Eleanor to not laugh out loud as her son emphatically stated, "Mama, I don't like girls." Apparently, his main gripe with them was that they frazzled his nerves, and couldn't seem to do anything but giggle when they were around him and the guys.
She found herself remembering how even as a small boy Leonard could not tolerate excessive silliness in others. Focusing once again on her conversation with her son, she listened, as he told her with the utmost sincerity that,"He liked boys much better than girls, as they were far less annoying."
He went on to tell his mother, in a painfully earnest voice that "When I'm around them, I feel all out of sorts."
Curious as to why Len was all of the sudden so vocal about his dislike for the opposite sex, Eleanor questioned him about his day's activities. There were still a few more months to go before school let out, so she knew that he and his friends enjoyed spending their limited amount of free time together. On a typical Saturday morning, weather permitting, the boys would meet up at the McCoy's barn where they stored the bats and balls used in their weekly game. Gathering up the equipment, the group would then cross the farm's fields until they were far enough away to avoid hitting a baseball through one of Mrs. McCoy's kitchen windows.
Concerned she asked, "Len, did anything out of the ordinary happen today?"
He nodded his head as he said, "yeah, it sure did."
Len told his mom that after the game, the boys decided to go into town, so they hopped on their bikes and headed to the soda fountain-- the most popular hangout in Pine Lake, Georgia (pop. 658). Of course, they had to have a race to see who would be the first one there.
"Who won?" she asked with a smile.
Rolling his eyes, Len informed her, "I did."
She found herself not at all surprised by this. Though still in the process of growing, he already had the powerful legs and broad shoulders innate in the McCoy men. Continuing with his narrative, he explained that luckily, as crowed as it was, there were just enough seats left for him and his friends, so they sat down and placed their order with the soda jerk. Saturdays had always been one of the shops busiest days, but lately it had been like a madhouse in there. A few months back, the United States had officially entered World War II. Since then, weekends found the place packed with men in uniform, some on their way to boot camp, while others would shortly be departing for Europe, joining in the battle to defeat Hitler.
Len went on to tell his mother how Jocelyn Darnell ruined his whole day. Situated right behind him and his friends was a booth filled with a bunch of chatty girls. Since it was standing room only, the guys couldn't change their seats. Oh boy, Len thought. Could they be anymore annoying? To make matters worse, Jocelyn was among the group seated at the table. For some reason that was beyond him, she felt the need to whisper incessantly to her girlfriends whenever she was in his vicinity. He noticed that any time his name was mentioned the giggling got that much louder. Determined to ignore them, Len focused on finishing his ice cream soda, but he just couldn't do it. Cursing to himself about damn idiot girls, he said, "Guys, let's get out of here."
Gathered around their bikes outside the shop the boys decided that since, yes, it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, they best go for a swim to cool down. As luck would have it, the girls, including Jocelyn, had exited the shop in time to overhear their plans. Naturally, they were in total agreement that it was insanely hot and proceeded to thank the boys for so kindly offering to take them swimming.
Unsure of how to explain to his Mama exactly how it was that everybody ended up in the McCoy's swimming hole together, Len just looked up at her and said, "I don't know what happened." Continuing on with his sad tale, he told her, "One minute me and the guys were going to take our usual Saturday afternoon swim, and the next thing I know Jocelyn is asking me to help her out because she's not a very good swimmer."
Eleanor thought, I know exactly what happened. After all as a young girl, she was forever trying to create situations where she would end up spending time with David. Sighing to herself, she thought, Oh Len, if she is half as determined as I was, you don't stand a chance. For a moment Eleanor felt a small twinge in her heart. Deep down inside she knew that her son's dislike of giggling girls was more than just a child's belief that they had cooties. Her mother's intuition was telling her that her boy had a hard road ahead of him. Small southern towns were not known for their tolerance of those who were "different".
Putting an end to that train of thought, Eleanor listened as Len told her he couldn't fathom why anyone would enjoy hanging out with a bunch of girls, it was just plain exhausting. "Seriously, Mom," he exclaimed, "I had a headache by the time they finally left." According to him all they seemed to do was worry about what they looked like and what so and so was saying about them behind their backs. In his estimation, girls were more trouble than they were worth, and he had better things to do with his time, thank you very much.
For a time Eleanor and Len sat in silence, sipping their sweet tea. Each lost in their own thoughts. She wondered where the time had gone. It seemed like only yesterday that she was a scared young bride imaging what she would look like in her wedding dress. Would David think she was beautiful? What kind of wife and mother would she be? Comfortable with the thought that things turned out better than she ever could have imagined, Eleanor found herself thinking, I really was a very silly young girl back then. Bless his heart, Len is right. Girls really can be rather ridiculous.
Glancing down, Eleanor wondered what was going through her son's mind.Unlike his mother, he was thinking about the future. He worried about what school would be like now that Jocelyn and her friends had gone swimming with them. Would he find her behavior even more of an annoyance? But what troubled him the most was the realization that his friends did not appear too upset that their uninvited guests were female and,even worse, seemed to have decided it would be enjoyable for Jocelyn and her friends to tag along again. Dammit, Len thought, I don't understand what the appeal is. Oh boy, good thing I didn't say dammit out loud. Mom would have my head if she heard me saying a cuss word. Sighing, he thought, girls really will be the death of me.
David stood in the kitchen fixing his sweet tea. The familiar sounds of the katydids chattering away drifted through the open window, as well as, the murmur of conversation between mother and son. Len would be sitting at his mother's feet, busy telling her all about his day. He did not partake in this longstanding ritual, but he was okay with that. It had been a fair trade off. Having a new family to take care of was a big responsibility, especially when the country had been in the grips of The Depression.
Fortunately he had finished medical school and had gained further experience serving as a medic in World War I before the really hard times had hit. Unemployment was nearing twenty five percent, so he considered himself lucky to have gotten hired on at the hospital. He had to work a lot of long hours, but David was able to care for his family, while also establishing his reputation within the medical community. Consequently, for the majority of Len's early years it was just he and his mother spending their evenings out on the porch. It was only natural that the boy was more comfortable confiding in her. David knew he needn't worry. Later tonight, while readying herself for bed, Eleanor would update him on all the goings on in his son's life without actually violating the boy's confidences.
The sound of David moving around in the kitchen brought both mother and son back to the here and now. With the kitchen window open, they could hear him moving around as he prepared his sweet tea: the opening of the fridge, the squeaking of the hinges on the cabinet as he got himself a glass, and finally the clink of the ice cubes as he poured the chilled tea. In a minute he would call out, "Does anybody need a refill before I put the pitcher back in the fridge?"
David had started his own nightly ritual some years back. After switching off the kitchen light, he would take a quick moment to glance out the window to enjoy the sight of his family sitting on the porch, enjoying the warm evening air. This night found him feeling a bit sentimental, and the knowledge that they were waiting for him to join them brought tears to his eyes. His heart swelled with the love he felt for these two people that meant more to him than life itself. In reflection, he had a deep appreciation of how well his life had turned out. Even now, after nearly thirty years of marriage, David could not believe his luck. When he was young and foolish, he never imagined that a girl like Eleanor would ever be interested in the quiet, unobtrusive medical student that he had been. She was so beautiful and full of life compared to him. Much to his delight, she had a wicked sense of humor to go along with her abundant intellect. He chuckled to himself as he thought Oh Eleanor, if the southern belles of Pine Lake ever heard some of the jokes you've told, they would need their smelling salts to revive themselves.
He would also come to appreciate her inner strength, as it was she that had carried them both through the dark days that followed her multiple miscarriages.The couple had just begun discussing the possibility of adoption, when they learned Eleanor was pregnant once again.The obstetrician gently explained with her prior history and advanced age, that he had some serious concerns about this pregnancy.The mother-to-be very politely told him that as this baby was a gift from God, she had no doubts that he would protect both her and her unborn child. Dr. McCoy found he was quite adept at soothing the worries of his patients and their families. Unfortunately, David McCoy, the husband, was unable to use these skills to assuage his fear of this pregnancy not having a happy ending.
The prolonged labor was endangering the health of both mother and child.Talking quietly with the doctors in the corner of the delivery room, David agreed that although it was risky, an emergency cesarean section was their best option at this point. He truly believed that the only reason his family was here with him today was all his wife's doing.There had been some complications and for awhile it was doubtful that either one of them would survive, but Eleanor had decided that they all would be leaving this hospital to start their new life together as a family and that was that.Taking a brief moment to regain his composure, David, sweet tea in hand, stepped outside and joined his familly.
Taking his seat in the rocker next to Eleanor he asked his wife and son,"How was your day?"
"Hey dad," Len said as Eleanor gazed affectionately at both her boys. David took a sip of tea as his son ran down the events of the day. "Played ball with the guys, had an ice cream soda, and then went for a swim."Knowing this was the bare bones version, he looked forward to his wife giving him the expanded version later tonight.
Every night, for as far back as Len could remember, the bedtime routine in the McCoy household was always the same. He would get in bed, his parents would come in to say good night, and as she switched off the lights, his mom would say, "Night, night. Don't let the katydid bugs bite." After turning twelve, he decided that he was getting too big to have his parents tuck him in. Instead, he would gently knock on their bedroom door and say his good night. In unison, they would reply, "Good night, son." Knowing that Len could hear her, his mother whispered, "Night, night. Don't let the katydid bugs bite." With no one around to see, he smiled to himself and thought, it would feel weird going to bed without hearing mom say that to me.