When I was six years old Mama and I moved in with Aunt Lutie. She was Mama's only sister and when Daddy decided he didn't want to hang around anymore, she was the only one who would take us in. She was probably the only one Mama approached. Or, as far as I know, it might have been Aunt Lutie who put her foot down, told her sister that she needed to think of her child for a change and not that louse she married who dumped her. At any rate, we came here to Harts Corner and within a short time, Mama had...well, let's be truthful here...my beautiful mother enjoyed Mr. Jim Beam until the week before she died when she could no longer lift a glass.
So it was Aunt Lutie and I working to keep the Blue Moon running. I started washing dishes and cleaning tables when the doors were closed at night. Eventually, I had my aunt, the best cook in the county I thought, teach me how to make pancakes, then biscuits, then chicken-fried steak. I read cookbooks like they were best sellers and wanted to experiment with new dishes. But Aunt Lutie felt she knew her diners and didn't want to change the foods they came back for over and over. Maybe she was right. It wasn't the time to reinvent this part of the world yet.
Growing up in Harts Corner was great for a tom boy like me. I could roam the streets when not helping Aunt Lutie, climb trees in the Judge's backyard, and take my latest favorite book to my bedroom where I got lost in the wonder of others worlds. On Sunday, the only day the Blue Moon was closed, Aunt Lutie and I would take a picnic lunch and head for White Rock Creek, or go fishing, or do crafts together.
I liked school, devoured everything I could read and learn, and managed to stay away from bullies and best friends. Though teased a lot, I didn't need anyone but Aunt Lutie to have a complete life. If any of you grew up in such a town, you know what I mean when I say no matter where you might roam, such towns are where a piece of your heart will always remain. But I hadn't planned on my physical body being in this town forever. But that's another story--it's all in the book and I won't go into it, but you'll understand my feelings--I'm sure you will.
There's some characters here, let me tell you. Do you remember the country singer Kitty Wells? She was so popular and had the most crying voice I'd ever heard in a lady. She wore fringed jackets and her hair down long; in later years, the hair went up tall on her head in some of the pictures I saw on albums. Well, our Tillie Treadwell was no Kitty Wells when it came to voice but she wasn't so bad either. She had this little band that played local honky tonks, even was a guest on the Louisiana Hayride once. They say that show got her an invition to play somewhere in Europe--France or Italy--can't remember which. Word was she made a lot of money. But Aunt Lutie always said her money came from something closer to home, back in the piney woods. I later heard the payoff was from her Daddy's still. Anyway, she was gone a lot and when she appeared with those drop-dead tight clothes and that big hair, the men in town drooled--until their wives jerked them away.
There's Sam who owns the gas station, the towing company, and the ambulance service. I mean, why not? They're all run out of the same building right across the parking lot from the Blue Moon. I hate to mention Preston Connors--he's such a grouch, gloomy gus, always sticking his nose into the kitchen before we're open. He thinks he has some kind of special privileges or something. Maybe Aunt Lutie let him get away with it, but I finally had to shoo him out--he gives me the willies when he sneaks up on me. Just because he's a businessman in town--the hardware store belongs to him--he thinks he can be the biggest snot in town and get away with it. He usually does, too.
I could go on and on but I'll save some of those characters to introduce you to another time. I just want you to know that it took all of these folks, and then some, to make sure that an orphan girl felt cared for, special, like she was a part on one big town family.
Only small towns can give you that security.
MM signing off. Ya'll take care until we see each other again right here--in Aunt Lutie's Blue Moon Cafe. Hey, on Thursday, I'm making Texas Caviar. Come on in and try some.
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