Snap Beans

The Farmers Market was bustling with activity, vendors and shoppers thronged the crowded riverfront plaza, there were cries of fresh coffee, beignets, just baked biscuits. The stalls offered jars of preserves tied with bright ribbons,watermelons and tomatoes, baskets of corn, apples and peaches and crates of strawberries and blueberries all newly washed and shining in the early morning sun. The sights, sounds and smells took me back to memories of summers on the farm - shelling peas on the front veranda, peeling apples for baking, husking just picked corn and watching the latest litter of kittens at play while my daddy napped in the rocking chair.

Where is everyone? my mother asked, coming to the front door with an apron full of radishes.

Gone to pick blueberries at Uncle Dave's, my daddy said in sleepy voice. He opened his eyes cautiously and looked in the direction of the door. Why? Did you want to go?

My mother gave a harsh sounding laugh. When there's enough frost in hell to kill the snap beans, she said sharply and my daddy gave her a surprised look.

The phrase stuck with me - I was sure I'd heard it before and certainly not from my mother who was your basic When hell freezes over sort of person. My daddy was frowning as he shifted in the chair, suddenly restless and he abruptly got up and went inside, beckoning me to follow. We climbed the stairs to my Aunt Ola's room and he began thumbing through a bookcase, running his fingers over the spines and muttering frost and snap beans, snap beans and frost. It was something about a journey, I'm sure.

Whatever it was, he didn't find it and stood puzzling over the books for several minutes then shook his head in mild frustration, Well, he said finally, It'll come to me.

It was Mr. Christian, I said tentatively, from "Mutiny on the Bounty". He spun around with a delighted smile and swept me up in a hug.

That's right! he exclaimed, That's exactly right! How on earth did you remember?

I was absurdly pleased with myself for pleasing him and hugged his neck fiercely as he carried me downstairs.

You, he announced to my grandmother, have a very bright granddaughter! And you, he added with a "gotcha", sideways look at my mother, have been reading! Nana Ruby smiled tolerantly, as you might at a kindly and well meaning idiot but my mother turned and gave him a furious glare. Some people would do well to mind their own business, she advised curtly.

My daddy just laughed and my mother stiffened her spine and continued to chop radishes with zest, pointedly ignoring us both. Still, I had a feeling she was somehow pleased - there was a hint of color in her cheeks and the suggestion of an involuntary smile. It was a rare moment and even my grandmother looked sideways at her daughter in law and winked.