htmlbcenterHow to Trick the Devil/center/bp
iOh good golly gosh Molly,/i Eudora thought as she stood on the porch of 221 Hellhole Road. Hellhole wasn't the name of the street, of course, but with the street sign gone and the drought lasting as long and as disgustingly healthy as Aunt Etna, it was a fitting nickname. And speak of the devil, here she came, striding down the street primly as if it were her own. Well, if anything had any association to hell, it was probably hers.p
Eudora held her wood on the tilted porch, which was just as well because she had to go down steps which slanted the opposite way in a few moments to get the wash, which, come to think of it, wasn't being washed in anything but the oppressive heat of the sun.p
In the middle of the summer, Eudora had left the windows open to let in the sweet scent of summer. Now she regretted it. Aunt Etna could now clearly see the weather-stained curtains, and the only thing getting into the house was the sour stench of trash and half-dead, exhausted flies. They needed a new roof, not to mention an even one. The only even wood on the land of the wooden shotgun shack was the fence.p
Aunt Etna stopped next to one of the plants that was still alive in her Sunday clothes, which she wore every day but Sunday when she wore her Monday dress because her Monday dress had become her best dress on a Tuesday some years ago. She stood there with a wool sweater and a dark hat despite the baking heat, and a wooden cane which she used mostly to intimidate people with.p
Eudora smoothed out her somewhat white cotton dress and held her hands behind her back, waiting for the normal aggressive wishes toward her aunt to return as soon as the old woman opened her mouth again.p
Aunt Etna opened her mouth.p
iOh, Lordie, here we go./i
"Eudora? Dear? That you? My eyesight ain't what it used to be, chile." Aunt Etna's voice was high-pitched and scratchy. Crone. "Is that a husband on yo arm or am I jest imagnin' things?"p
More like you just the messed up crackpot wife of Lucifer, Eudora thought. Thankfully, however, she didn't say so. "No ma'am," she said emphatically.p
Aunt Etna frowned.p
"Ain't got no need for one, Auntie Etna!" Eudora said.p
Aunt Etna waved her cane at her. "You do too! That house needs a-fixin' and that boy a yours needs a daddy. And you- you- you jest need someone to come up there an whip yo hide!" She started climbing the steps.p
Despite herself, Eudora moved back a bit. "That boy a mine don't need no daddy," she replied tartly. "Lived long enough without him. An the house still standin', ain't it? An, as fo my hide, it don't need no lickens from the likes a you."p
"Now, you listen to me, MISS Eudooooora," Aunt Etna barked slash screeched. "You need ta get married, and I know just the boy fo ya. Name's Timothy, I think. Good boy, strong boy, even if he ain't too smart none. But he can spit up to twelve feet, I hear."p
"Oh no, Auntie," Eudora begged. She was through with men! The only person she needed was her son! Time for the ace, she thought. God help me! "Auntie, I kind a hate to tell you this, but I don't swing that way!"p
"Hmm?" she said, finally listening.p
"I'm gay, Auntie," she said, nearly grinning as a thought occurred to her. "If you come on back, I'll prove it to you!"p
That got Aunt Etna all the way back to the street, which she hastily walked down, making indignant noises. Every once in a while, "Well, I'll be," floated back loudly several times on the breeze.p
Eudora looked after her. So the devil was afraid of something after all.p
center~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~/centerpi© 2001. So? How'd you like it? I wrote it for creative writing class, so I'm not expecting many reviews on it. We were shown a picture taken by Eudora Welty and told to 1) First, create a setting for it and 2) to create conflict between the characters. I thought sticking in a resolution would be kind of nice. Well, depends on the resolution, I guess. Anyway, the photo was taken during the Great Depression
of two black women in the South. They aren't speaking heavy African American lingo, they're speaking a mix of Deep Southern, Redneck, and African American. I figured it would be fun. You should all hear me try and read this at the reading Friday. It'll be a knee slappin' hot-doggone tootin' time. ;o) Anyway, just thought you should know that some of the phrases may or may not have been around then, and the characters could have done something different in real life.
Thanks!/ip/html