| General Fiction posted July 11, 2013 | Chapters: |
...13 14 -15- 
|
  |
A sad day for Rabbit, Virge's death
A chapter in the book Rabbit
Life Goes On
by bhogg
| Background The young boy, nick-named Rabbit spent the entire summer with his grandparents and his ninety year old friend Virge. This is a story of Virge's death. |
When you're used to getting up in the morning to the sound of a rooster crowing, it's tough to just get on up without it. Now that I am home in Alabama, the new day was announced by my father yelling up the stairs, "Awake, awake, the dawn is here, the air is full of atmosphere." I wish he'd just yell, "Cockle, Doodle, Doo."
Not a day goes by when I don't miss the farm in Georgia. I bet I've asked myself a million times, "I wonder what Virge is doing?" We used to visit my grandma's pretty often as it's only a ninety minute trip, but with my new baby sister, Mama doesn't want to travel. My dad says maybe we'll go for Thanksgiving.
When I first saw my sister's picture, I thought she looked like a frog, but now I think she's pretty cute. She takes to me more than my two brothers. She must be smart. That's been a big change for me, but a fun one. I don't have chickens and a garden to take care of, but helping take care of my sister, Carolyn, is fun. My mom actually gave me a big hug the other day, because I changed Carolyn's diapers. She said, "You're one up on your brothers and tied with your dad."
I just had to smile before I said, "Mama, there are a lot of things in life worse than baby poop. I shoveled and moved around worse stuff all summer." That got me another hug.
I suppose that life was back to normal. School seemed even more fun than last year. Bobbie Joe Herlong told me she wanted to be my girlfriend. Funny though, she said, "I don't want to call you Rabbit. It sounds so baby-like. Can I call you Billy?"
I smiled, batted my eyes, and said, "You can call me anything you want."
When my dad came home from work, I don't think I've ever seen a longer face. He doesn't hug much, but he asked me to come over to where he was sitting. He gave me a hug before saying, "Rabbit, I'm sorry I've got to bring you some bad news. Our good friend Virge is dead."
School was in session, so my parents decided that Mom would stay home with the baby and my two brothers. Dad and I would go to Georgia for the funeral. Mom had to give me my older brother John's 'go to stuff' suit. I had outgrown mine. We packed up and headed to Georgia.
Travelling down the road, we kept our thoughts to ourselves. I finally asked my dad, "What did Virge die from?"
"Well, Son, you'd think that Virge just died of old age. He just turned ninety-one, but that wasn't what caused his death. The old coot climbed up on top of his roof to sweep some leaves off. He fell and broke some ribs. They got him to the hospital and patched him up. Everybody thought he was going to be okay, but he developed pneumonia in his lungs and just died. At least Carrie and Joe Leslie were with him. Carrie was the one who called me."
"I wish I had been there. I'd have climbed that roof and knocked those leaves off for him."
Dad smiled before saying, "I know you would have, Rabbit. We just have to accept it was his time. I've known Virge my entire life and have to admit that things won't seem the same without him. I was thinking last night of the last time I saw him this summer. He didn't look any different to me than he did when I was your age. He's been old forever. He's had a pretty good ride."
We just sat there quietly for the rest of the trip. When we pulled onto the dirt road that went to my grandparents' house, we drove right by Virge's cabin. It was the first time I cried. I wiped my eyes and looked at my dad. His eyes were red and puffy too.
I got out and opened the gate to the house. Grandma came out of the house to greet us. Without saying a word, she gathered me up in her arms and gave me a big hug. She stepped back and I could see tears in her eyes. She finally said, "I'm sure glad to see my two boys though I'm sorry it is under such sad circumstances. Ya'll come up and sit on the front porch. I'll bring you some iced tea."
We sat there for a while, rocked, drank some iced tea and took turns telling Virge stories. They laughed like crazy when I told them about the yellow jacket war. Grandpa finally got home from work. We all went in to dinner. It was strange, because it was all left overs. There was a fresh pot of collards and a platter of fried pork chops. I asked Grandma if we were going to have that for dinner. She smiled and touched my face before replying, "No, honey, you and your daddy are going to bring that by Virgil's Church tomorrow. They're going to have some food after the service."
"You could bring it. Ain't you and Grandpa going?"
She brushed some strands of hair away from her face before replying, "No, Rabbit, Grandpa and I won't be going tomorrow."
It took me a few moments to reply because I was confused. "Grandma, Virge has been around you since you were a little girl. How come you aren't going to the church?"
"Honey, your grandpa and I have never been to a Negro church. It just wouldn't be right."
I started to say something, but my dad pinched my leg beneath the table. I just shrugged and shut up. Later, I was even more confused when I found out that my grandparents paid for Virge's hospital stay and for his funeral. I don't know. There's just a lot of stuff I didn't understand.
Dad and I got to the church early. Some of the people came by to speak to him, but more came my way. I don't think Dad knew that I'd been to that church about six times that summer. Even the preacher from Atlanta came over. He shook my hand and said, "I remember you. You're Rabbit, the young man who professed to the congregation that you wanted to go to heaven. Just know that old Virge will be there before you. He'll be waiting for you."
"Yes Sir, I reckon he will be, and I'll be glad to see him. I've got to tell you though, I ain't in no hurry."
He laughed and said, "Indeed, young man, indeed."
My dad introduced himself. When the preacher left, Dad turned to me and winked. "Son, you never cease to amaze me."
Before the service, we were sitting down near the back. Carrie had tried to get us to sit with family, but my dad said, "Son, we should just sit in the back." He leaned over and whispered to me, "Son, it's an open casket. Do you want to go up and see Virge one last time?"
I blinked back a tear before saying, "No, Sir, I don't need to do that. That's not Virge up there in that box. He's dead and his soul is in heaven. If I want to see Virge, all I have to do is close my eyes."
My dad pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his eyes. I reckon he was hot.
In a few minutes, my favorite time at Virge's church started. The back doors opened and the choir came in. They don't just walk in, they dance in. They're swaying to the music, clapping their hands and swaying side to side. They were singing one of Virge's favorite songs, 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'. I remember sitting on his front porch and him playing his harmonica, singing this song. I don't remember all of it, but remember this part:
"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free,
For His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
It was a great service. Lots of people went up front and told stories about Virge. I knew him about as well as anyone outside of my family, but learned all sorts of stuff I didn't know. It seemed strange to me to learn that Virge learned to read and write when he was sixty years old. I thought you learned this early in school. The person telling this story was Carrie's son, Joe Leslie. He gestured to the congregation and acknowledged my father, saying, "It was Mr. Jack and me who taught him."
After the service, I was standing around a picnic table set up outside. I was picking out all of the fried chicken wings. I looked up as Virge's niece, Carrie, walked over. I greeted her with a big old smile, which she returned. I'm glad she didn't really know why I was smiling. Carrie had an unusual build. She was mostly normal up top, but below the waist, she had the biggest butt I'd ever seen. Virge used to call her Sugar Butts. Another reason I smiled is on my last day with Virge he encouraged me to read the National Geographic Magazines that we gave my grandmother. I started, and would have loved to tell Virge that I read a story about some tribes in Africa. It was natural for some black women to have big butts. I wanted to tell him that it was in their genes. Apparently it went way back in time. In times of famine and drought, having a big butt kept some folks alive. I reckoned that if a drought would come, Carrie and my cousin Wesley would outlive us all.
When Carrie got there, she gave me a huge hug and said, "Hey - Rabbit. I sure am glad that you and your daddy could come. Virge would have liked that. I got sumpin for you." She handed me a small package wrapped in a red bandana. Inside, a small square box and a note. The note was hand written. In large script was this note, "Hey Rabbit - I guess you know I'm dead. Remember that first time we went fishing. You was worried about them worms eating cow poop and then getting through nature to Grandma's tomatoes. It's time for them worms to get to ol Virge. Don't you worry though, I'll be a long way from them tomato plants. HA HA! I want you to do 2 things for me. First I want you to take care of my Barlow knife. It's in the small box. Second, I want you to think about ol Virge with a smile on your face. We had us some good times."
Virge taught me many, many things, only one of which was the importance of telling the truth. I lost your knife Virge, probably within five days. I do think about you though and with a big old smile.
Not a day goes by when I don't miss the farm in Georgia. I bet I've asked myself a million times, "I wonder what Virge is doing?" We used to visit my grandma's pretty often as it's only a ninety minute trip, but with my new baby sister, Mama doesn't want to travel. My dad says maybe we'll go for Thanksgiving.
When I first saw my sister's picture, I thought she looked like a frog, but now I think she's pretty cute. She takes to me more than my two brothers. She must be smart. That's been a big change for me, but a fun one. I don't have chickens and a garden to take care of, but helping take care of my sister, Carolyn, is fun. My mom actually gave me a big hug the other day, because I changed Carolyn's diapers. She said, "You're one up on your brothers and tied with your dad."
I just had to smile before I said, "Mama, there are a lot of things in life worse than baby poop. I shoveled and moved around worse stuff all summer." That got me another hug.
I suppose that life was back to normal. School seemed even more fun than last year. Bobbie Joe Herlong told me she wanted to be my girlfriend. Funny though, she said, "I don't want to call you Rabbit. It sounds so baby-like. Can I call you Billy?"
I smiled, batted my eyes, and said, "You can call me anything you want."
When my dad came home from work, I don't think I've ever seen a longer face. He doesn't hug much, but he asked me to come over to where he was sitting. He gave me a hug before saying, "Rabbit, I'm sorry I've got to bring you some bad news. Our good friend Virge is dead."
School was in session, so my parents decided that Mom would stay home with the baby and my two brothers. Dad and I would go to Georgia for the funeral. Mom had to give me my older brother John's 'go to stuff' suit. I had outgrown mine. We packed up and headed to Georgia.
Travelling down the road, we kept our thoughts to ourselves. I finally asked my dad, "What did Virge die from?"
"Well, Son, you'd think that Virge just died of old age. He just turned ninety-one, but that wasn't what caused his death. The old coot climbed up on top of his roof to sweep some leaves off. He fell and broke some ribs. They got him to the hospital and patched him up. Everybody thought he was going to be okay, but he developed pneumonia in his lungs and just died. At least Carrie and Joe Leslie were with him. Carrie was the one who called me."
"I wish I had been there. I'd have climbed that roof and knocked those leaves off for him."
Dad smiled before saying, "I know you would have, Rabbit. We just have to accept it was his time. I've known Virge my entire life and have to admit that things won't seem the same without him. I was thinking last night of the last time I saw him this summer. He didn't look any different to me than he did when I was your age. He's been old forever. He's had a pretty good ride."
We just sat there quietly for the rest of the trip. When we pulled onto the dirt road that went to my grandparents' house, we drove right by Virge's cabin. It was the first time I cried. I wiped my eyes and looked at my dad. His eyes were red and puffy too.
I got out and opened the gate to the house. Grandma came out of the house to greet us. Without saying a word, she gathered me up in her arms and gave me a big hug. She stepped back and I could see tears in her eyes. She finally said, "I'm sure glad to see my two boys though I'm sorry it is under such sad circumstances. Ya'll come up and sit on the front porch. I'll bring you some iced tea."
We sat there for a while, rocked, drank some iced tea and took turns telling Virge stories. They laughed like crazy when I told them about the yellow jacket war. Grandpa finally got home from work. We all went in to dinner. It was strange, because it was all left overs. There was a fresh pot of collards and a platter of fried pork chops. I asked Grandma if we were going to have that for dinner. She smiled and touched my face before replying, "No, honey, you and your daddy are going to bring that by Virgil's Church tomorrow. They're going to have some food after the service."
"You could bring it. Ain't you and Grandpa going?"
She brushed some strands of hair away from her face before replying, "No, Rabbit, Grandpa and I won't be going tomorrow."
It took me a few moments to reply because I was confused. "Grandma, Virge has been around you since you were a little girl. How come you aren't going to the church?"
"Honey, your grandpa and I have never been to a Negro church. It just wouldn't be right."
I started to say something, but my dad pinched my leg beneath the table. I just shrugged and shut up. Later, I was even more confused when I found out that my grandparents paid for Virge's hospital stay and for his funeral. I don't know. There's just a lot of stuff I didn't understand.
Dad and I got to the church early. Some of the people came by to speak to him, but more came my way. I don't think Dad knew that I'd been to that church about six times that summer. Even the preacher from Atlanta came over. He shook my hand and said, "I remember you. You're Rabbit, the young man who professed to the congregation that you wanted to go to heaven. Just know that old Virge will be there before you. He'll be waiting for you."
"Yes Sir, I reckon he will be, and I'll be glad to see him. I've got to tell you though, I ain't in no hurry."
He laughed and said, "Indeed, young man, indeed."
My dad introduced himself. When the preacher left, Dad turned to me and winked. "Son, you never cease to amaze me."
Before the service, we were sitting down near the back. Carrie had tried to get us to sit with family, but my dad said, "Son, we should just sit in the back." He leaned over and whispered to me, "Son, it's an open casket. Do you want to go up and see Virge one last time?"
I blinked back a tear before saying, "No, Sir, I don't need to do that. That's not Virge up there in that box. He's dead and his soul is in heaven. If I want to see Virge, all I have to do is close my eyes."
My dad pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his eyes. I reckon he was hot.
In a few minutes, my favorite time at Virge's church started. The back doors opened and the choir came in. They don't just walk in, they dance in. They're swaying to the music, clapping their hands and swaying side to side. They were singing one of Virge's favorite songs, 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'. I remember sitting on his front porch and him playing his harmonica, singing this song. I don't remember all of it, but remember this part:
"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free,
For His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
It was a great service. Lots of people went up front and told stories about Virge. I knew him about as well as anyone outside of my family, but learned all sorts of stuff I didn't know. It seemed strange to me to learn that Virge learned to read and write when he was sixty years old. I thought you learned this early in school. The person telling this story was Carrie's son, Joe Leslie. He gestured to the congregation and acknowledged my father, saying, "It was Mr. Jack and me who taught him."
After the service, I was standing around a picnic table set up outside. I was picking out all of the fried chicken wings. I looked up as Virge's niece, Carrie, walked over. I greeted her with a big old smile, which she returned. I'm glad she didn't really know why I was smiling. Carrie had an unusual build. She was mostly normal up top, but below the waist, she had the biggest butt I'd ever seen. Virge used to call her Sugar Butts. Another reason I smiled is on my last day with Virge he encouraged me to read the National Geographic Magazines that we gave my grandmother. I started, and would have loved to tell Virge that I read a story about some tribes in Africa. It was natural for some black women to have big butts. I wanted to tell him that it was in their genes. Apparently it went way back in time. In times of famine and drought, having a big butt kept some folks alive. I reckoned that if a drought would come, Carrie and my cousin Wesley would outlive us all.
When Carrie got there, she gave me a huge hug and said, "Hey - Rabbit. I sure am glad that you and your daddy could come. Virge would have liked that. I got sumpin for you." She handed me a small package wrapped in a red bandana. Inside, a small square box and a note. The note was hand written. In large script was this note, "Hey Rabbit - I guess you know I'm dead. Remember that first time we went fishing. You was worried about them worms eating cow poop and then getting through nature to Grandma's tomatoes. It's time for them worms to get to ol Virge. Don't you worry though, I'll be a long way from them tomato plants. HA HA! I want you to do 2 things for me. First I want you to take care of my Barlow knife. It's in the small box. Second, I want you to think about ol Virge with a smile on your face. We had us some good times."
Virge taught me many, many things, only one of which was the importance of telling the truth. I lost your knife Virge, probably within five days. I do think about you though and with a big old smile.
Book of the Month contest entry
 Recognized |
|
This is part of a novel, so isn't really stand alone. There are some earlier chapters that would explain some of the things going on. Hopefully you'll read them!
List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
Virge Gates - 87 year old black man, Rabbit's good friend
Sugar Butts - Virge's nickname for his niece, Ms. Carry
Joe Leslie - Carrie's son
Wesley - Rabbit's cousin
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
Erin - Friend of grandparents, a live in babysitter for Rabbit
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
Virge Gates - 87 year old black man, Rabbit's good friend
Sugar Butts - Virge's nickname for his niece, Ms. Carry
Joe Leslie - Carrie's son
Wesley - Rabbit's cousin
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
Erin - Friend of grandparents, a live in babysitter for Rabbit
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. bhogg All rights reserved.
bhogg has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
