Decatur Clary, a Literary Sampler

Decatur Clary,

a literary sampler

By Decatur Clary

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2021 by R.A. Olmstead, publisher

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

All characters in this book are figments of the author’s imagination and bear no relation to anyone with the same name or names. Any resemblance to anyone known or unknown to the author, living or dead, are purely coincidental and accidental. All of the locations are fictional, even if they share the names of places that are not.

This work would have been impossible without the assistance of my editor, graphic artist and sternest critic; my wife, Laura.

Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

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Table of Contents

Who is Decatur Clary?

The Calling

Willa and Buddy

Grandpa’s Shortcut

The Agreement

Nana Vs. the Banshee

Grandma's Chickens

Unfortunate Archie

If you liked these stories, you are going to love:

Connect with Decatur

Who is Decatur Clary?

The first Decatur Clary was my husband’s third great-grandfather; a man who lived his life on the frontier of northwestern Florida and died in 1896, known to us now only by a cracked gravestone in an isolated cemetery in Okaloosa County.

The second Decatur Clary was raised as an Air Force brat and grew up in many places but always has felt most at home in his mother’s Florida. He hears poems in the sea breezes and sees the stories of those who came before him in the tendrils of Spanish moss that drip from the live oak trees.

Here, we have raised our children and built our lives.

Out of this sultry air he has created the Corbeaus of ‘7 Crows, a Secret’ and the Steeles of ‘The Lady Lu’ and they have become as much a part of our lives as the people we see daily.

We hope that you will enjoy Decatur’s stories, as you get to know the people of our world.

In keeping with his choice of a nom de plume, I will sign this with the name of the first Decatur’s wife.

Mary Clary

Tallahassee, Florida

The Calling

Excerpted from the novel ‘7 Crows, a Secret’

By Decatur Clary

1855 – Walton County, Florida

Mercy, look at all the people! Honor said.

For the last few miles, the traffic had been thickening. First, there was another wagon, then two, then people appeared from the woods, walking, riding or driving farm wagons and buggies. Like droplets, they became a stream that flowed into an opening in the fence where the rails had been thrown down.

Edward whistled appreciatively.

Looks like everbody for six counties is here, he said.

You keep a tight rein on that horse, Everett said.

I can handle her, Edward said.

Yes, sir, Julie corrected him.

Edward shot her a peevish look, but repeated:

Yes, sir.

Look at the tent! Jenny exclaimed.

On the other side of the fence, there was an open pasture beside the river. In the center of the clearing was a large canvas tent without walls, strung with bunting, flags, and signs proclaiming the availability of salvation within.

Remember yourself, pet, Julie said in a low voice.

Jenny copied Julie and sat up straight with her hands folded in her lap, looking around casually.

Everett worked the wagon through the congestion caused by people gravitating around the tent, while Honor and Julie waved to friends and relations, and Jenny absorbed everything with big jade green eyes. Edward followed the wagon, slouching nonchalantly and hoping everyone noticed he was riding a horse and not a mule.

Sweet Jesus, Everett swore softly, This is worse than town on Saturday.

It’ll get better once you get past the crowd, Honor said.

It better, Everett rumbled. I can’t stand all these people. Can’t draw a good breath.

Once they pushed through the crowd around the tent, there was open space to spread out in and the camps were further apart. Everett directed Edward to a shady spot under a water oak near the edge of the woods, and they stopped the wagon under the tree.

All right then, Everett said, checking his pocket watch. Good time too.

We have plenty of time to eat before first call, said Honor looking at her pendant watch.

Everett and Edward unhitched the mules and unsaddled the horse while Jenny helped Julie and Honor unload and setup their camp.

Jenny noticed him first. She whispered excitedly to Julie.

Here come Mr. Otis, Miss Julie.

Where? Julie said, looking around quickly. Goodness, I ain't even had time to wash the dust off my face! She stepped behind the wagon to straighten her clothing and give her face a quick dusting with her handkerchief.

A tall boy, whose clothes suggested a recent growth spurt, approached the front of the wagon.

Howdy, Mr. Corbeau, he said.

Everett looked at him and searched his memory, unbuckling the harness straps without needing to see.

You Jackson's boy, ain't you?

Yes suh. Otis, suh.

How's your ma and pa? Y’all satisfied with that land? Everett asked.

Hey, Otis, Edward greeted him over the mule.

Hey, Eddie. Yes suh, Pa thinks we can do real good here. They around here somewhere. I thought I'd see if y'all could use some help, setting up.

No, I think we got it, Everett said.

Oh.

Everett let him dangle for a moment before adding:

You might see if the ladies can use some help, though.

Otis brightened.

Yes suh, I will, suh. Thank you, suh.

Everett smiled wryly and shook his head, but only the mules saw him.

Hey, Otis said.

Hey, Julie said.

Jenny waited, but Otis appeared not to notice her. She cleared her throat.

He’ll get around to us in a second, Honor said.

Otis blushed and ducked his head.

Afternoon, Mrs. Corbeau, Jenny, he said. I … thought … if I could help …

Yes, we could certainly use some help, Julie accepted quickly, shooting a warning look at Honor and Jenny. If you could help me with this ground cloth …

I’m going visiting, Honor said. Otis, if you need some heavy lifting done, you just sing out. I’ll be around.

Huh? Otis said.

She’s teasing, Julie explained, as they spread out the ground cloth.

Well, she said, straightening up. I guess we need to gather some firewood. Jenny, can you unpack the baskets with the cold lunch in them?

Yes’m, Jenny said with a wide grin. Y’all don’t need to hurry.

Edward took the animals down to the river for water.

Everett took off his black coat and folded it over the side of the wagon bed. He pulled out his pipe and tobacco from the coat pocket, packed and lit his pipe. He watched Jenny for a minute and listened to her softly singing to herself as she set out the lunch. Everett looked around as he dug into one of his pants pockets. He walked to the back of the wagon where Jenny was.

Here, he said as he took her hand and tucked a coin into Jenny's palm. Gram wants you to have some spending money.

Jenny looked in her hand.

A dime! she exclaimed, looking at Everett. A whole dime I can spend myself?

It's from Gram Honor, he said uncomfortably, looking around. He knelt down and spoke seriously to her. Now, you be good, y’hear? You stay close by Julie, and don't talk to no strangers. You understand?

Yes, Papa ... Mr. Everett.

That's right. He nodded. We ain't home, and these ain't our people. We don't need no trouble.

Yes sir, Jenny agreed quietly. No trouble.

Jenny was sitting and sewing, leaned against the truck of the tree, when Otis and Julie returned. They were both red faced and looked disproportionately pleased with themselves, considering the puny amount of firewood they had collected.

Mr. Everett went visiting, Jenny said, storing her needle in the cloth. Can we go look around some?

Otis knelt and started stacking wood for the fire.

Wait until Eddie gets back, Julie said. Y’all can walk around while you fetch a pail of water from the river.

Jenny looked at her questioningly, but Julie had difficulty taking her eyes off Otis to notice. Jenny sighed and shook her head.

Fortunately, Edward soon appeared.

Eddie, will you go with me? Miss Julie wants a pail of water and I want to look around some.

Yes, Eddie, Julie asked pointedly. We can eat lunch when y’all get back.

I just come from the river, Edward said. I don’t wanna go back. Why don’t you take her?

Julie’s eyes were starting to narrow when Otis spoke up.

I’ll go with you, he said. You carry the bucket down, I’ll carry it back.

Deal! Jenny grinned.

We’ll all go, Julie said, looking meaningfully at Edward. Won’t we, Edward?

Edward smelled the storm gathering on the horizon and was quick to agree.

Julie looked around and located Honor at a neighboring campsite. Julie lifted the bucket and pointed to it.

Gram, she said.

Honor looked over and got the message, responding with a wave before returning to her conversation.

Edward and Jenny carried the bucket between them and followed Julie and Otis, watching every move they made, sensitive to every nuance of the interplay between the older pair. Although they were nearly as interested in the courtship as the principal participants, the difference allowed them to recognize some of the absurd facets of the rituals. Edward whispered wisecracks into Jenny’s ear, who struggled to contain her giggles. Otis and Julie ignored them both.

Julie and Otis remained a respectable distance apart most of the time, only occasionally brushing their hands together as they walked. She carried the bulk of the conversation and seemed to have developed an insatiable curiosity about the most mundane aspects of Otis's life.

He answered her questions without consideration, for he was only interested in looking at her. He would have preferred to be silent and simply stare at her, but the conventions of society discouraged such an embarrassing display of public affection. Instead, they made meaningless conversation as an excuse to look at each other.

The campground was rapidly filling with people, camps and wagons. This was the third and final day of the revival, and people were eager to absorb as much salvation, or glean as much profit, as possible. Vendors walked through the grounds hawking food, drink, and souvenirs, loudly advertising their goods.

Jenny inspected all of their offerings carefully, weighing each against her dime. But, in the end, she rejected them all as inferior to the thrill of having a real silver coin.

Raucous laughter drew Julie's attention to a crowd bunched around a wagon parked at the edge of the trees. A burly bearded man stood in the wagon bed and two other bearded men hovered around the rear of the wagon, laughing and talking loudly with a small group of men clustering there.

Who’s that? Julie asked.

That's the Armbruster brothers, Otis said uncomfortably. The big fellow there’s called ‘Arm-buster’ Armbruster. Those are his brothers, in back there. They showed up a little after we got here this morning.

They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves.

Otis blushed.

Maybe too much. Ma said they was moonshiners, selling that pop-skull whiskey.

Julie looked startled.

At a revival? Why don't somebody make them stop?

Otis shrugged.

Pa says they ain't hurting nobody, they keeping it out in the woods. He told Ma to mind her own business.

Julie stiffened.

Well, it ain't proper.

No, it ain't, Otis said. But it ain't worth fighting them three over, neither.

At the appointed hour, a bell was rung outside the big tent to announce afternoon services. The people doused their fires and made their way to the tent, humming with excitement as they filed in and sorted themselves out among the rows of benches.

Jenny held onto Julie’s hand and pressed close against her as they followed Everett into the tent. Her jade green eyes were wide and darted around, trying to see everything. Everett stopped at a bench and let Edward, Honor, Jenny and Julie go in before him. He took the aisle seat and took off his hat, smoothing his hair back with one hand.

A curtain closed off one end of the tent, and there was a raised stage set up in front of the curtain. To one side an elderly woman, wearing a bonnet decorated with silk flowers, played softly on the piano while the choir arranged themselves at the back of the stage.

In the center of the stage, Jenny saw the three preachers. One was a round man with long gray whiskers on his chin, a clean-shaven upper lip and a shiny baldhead. Jenny thought him kindly looking, even a little funny. He wore rectangular glasses that would slide down his nose until they nearly slipped off the tip of his nose before he would catch them and push them back up in front of his eyes. Then they would start their downward journey again. She admired his black frock coat and pinstriped pants. His face was fat and flushed, and she thought the fingers caressing his Bible were as plump as sausages.

The second preacher was so different from the first Jenny was taken aback. He was tall, thin and rawboned, dressed entirely in black except for a boiled white shirt. He wore a black string tie and his hands were knotted and scarred. Like Papa Everett’s, Jenny thought, workingman’s hands. But what struck her the hardest were his eyes. Deep set and hooded, his eyes burned with an intensity that he struggle to contain, his Adam's apple bobbing spastically even when he was not talking. Jenny was scared of what he might have to say.

She looked to the third preacher for relief. He was considerably younger than the other preachers, with dark curly hair, soft blue eyes and a Cupid’s bow mouth. He immediately became Jenny’s favorite, without even speaking. His dark brown coat and tan pants looked well cut, and she noticed his hands were smooth, with long manicured fingers.

The old one’s Brother Simon, Honor leaned towards Julie and spoke over Jenny’s head. We saw him four, five years ago. Which one do you think is Brother John or Joseph?

The thin one looks like he’s been living on locusts and wild honey, Julie whispered back. "The young