Belle Prater's Boy Read Online Free Page B

to the table. “Here, Doc Dot, will you do the honors?”
    She set the wine in front of him.
    â€œCertainly,” Doc Dot said as he stood up to open and serve the wine. “You know, all a body needs is a taste of spirits to soothe the nerves. Sometimes a little sip from a bottle like this one in front of me could mean the difference between sanity and insanity, and frankly …”
    Doc Dot had a twinkle in his eye as he raised his voice for the benefit of Granny and Grandpa.
    â€œFrankly, I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy!”
    We all just about died laughing.

    Doc Dot was so tickled with his success he decided to try again.
    â€œSpeaking of tension,” he said. “Mose Childress came to see me the other day and he said, ‘Doc, one night I dreamed I was a tepee and the next night I dreamed I was a wigwam. What do you think my problem is?’
    â€œAnd I said, ‘Well, Mose, that’s simple enough. Your problem is, you’re just two tents!’”
    That one got a good laugh, too. And so it went all evening. The wine seemed to loosen everybody up, Granny’s cooking was blue ribbon, and even Porter didn’t get on my nerves as much as usual. I caught myself almost smiling at him once.
    â€œCan we do this on my birthday?” Woodrow suddenly blurted out when there was a quiet moment.
    Then, seeming to regret his boldness, he ducked his head into his plate and blushed scarlet.
    There came a chorus of replies:
    â€œCertainly!”
    â€œOf course!”
    â€œNaturally!”
    â€œWhen is your birthday, Woodrow?” I said.
    â€œJanuary 1,” Woodrow said, smiling with pleasure at all this attention. “Or December 31. Mama never knew for sure. I was borned right on the stroke of midnight, New Year’s Eve, 1942.”

    â€œRight on the stroke!” Mama said. “Belle never told us that.”
    â€œWell, she told me lots of times. She told me that story so many times I know it by heart. A midwife was with her and she was having a real hard time. She was trying and trying to birth me, but I wouldn’t come. Finally Mama passed out from all the pain and she went out of her body. Then she felt peaceful and free. She said she drifted around the room and could see the midwife and her own body on the bed.
    â€œThen she realized she wasn’t alone. Another person was there floating around with her. It seemed like it was somebody who just arrived from far away, and it was somebody she felt like she used to know a thousand years ago in another place.
    â€œAnd Mama said to that person, ‘Oh, it’s you! I’ve waited for you, and I missed you so much! What took you so long?’
    â€œAnd the person said, ‘I couldn’t get away. They just now let me go. But here I am, so let’s get started.’
    â€œThen Mama came to herself and she heard the clock strike midnight, and I was borned all at the same time.”
    â€œWho do you think it was she met?” my mama said breathlessly.
    I looked at her and at the others. All their eyes were on Woodrow. The wine and cake were forgotten in the fascination of his story.

    â€œWhy, it was me!” Woodrow cried joyfully. “Me!”
    There was complete silence as we digested what he had said. A shiver ran up my spine as I thought what a strange story that was.
    Suddenly there was a ring, and we all jumped like we were shot. Then we laughed nervously as Mama ran to answer the phone. It was for Doc Dot. Somebody was having a fit up on Grassy Lick and he had to go see about him. The party scattered when he left. The twins curled up on the couch and went to sleep while the women cleared up the dishes, and Grandpa and Porter commenced discussing President Eisenhower.
    Woodrow and I went out to feed Dawg; then we sat in the swing on Granny’s tremendous porch. It was a still, clear night. The moon was full and there were millions of