the fried green tomatoes.
“Nobody makes these like Pearl does, Trip. This is pure South, this
is.” He popped it in his mouth, then another, sucking the grease
off his fingers, his eyelids fluttering. Gross, I know. “Suppose I
do know something. What would it be worth to you?”
“ Do you know something?” I asked, peeved that I was
suddenly being blackmailed. And by the likes of him, no less.
“I said suppose I know something,” he replied. “Then what?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Jeeves?”
“Walter,” he corrected, wagging his finger at me.
“What do you want, Walter ,” I amended, fairly choking on the
word.
He paused, a new look appearing on his face. It was just for
the briefest of moments, really, a hiccup in time, but I recognized
it just the same. It was sadness. Resigned sadness. “I, I’d like
to keep my job,” he said, his usual gruffness quickly making a
triumphant return.
southeRn FRied 71
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why? You’d be working for me
then.” But I knew the answer even before he told it to me. His
job, after all, was all he knew. Thirty years of it. It was his life.
Without it, there was nothing. He had no family nearby, no home,
no fancy house. So of course he still wanted his job, even with me
now in the mix. So I stopped him. I didn’t need to hear him say it.
In fact, I didn’t want to. “Fine. Your job, plus a ten percent raise,”
I blurted out. “Now, tell me what you know. Please, Walter.”
The sadness on his face returned and stayed put this time.
“Until you mentioned it, I’d completely forgotten about it.” He
sat down, tired looking in his everyday clothes. The chauffeur suit
gave him a regality he was now missing, a respectability. Strange
how I never noticed it before. Anyway, he continued. “Your
grandparents hired me as soon as I walked into the mansion.
Took one look at me and offered me a job. I was just barely in
my twenties. Poor as poor could be, after, well, after I’d recently
lost a job.”
I nodded. “Granny always enjoyed helping out those less
fortunate. I’d seen it as a kid. Betty, in fact, told me something
similar when I met her.”
He sighed, looking all his years. Like he’d been put through
the ringer and still hung up wet. “Yes, she was like that. But still,
I had no experience. And she knew nothing about me. Nor did
your grandfather, for that matter. This was more than charity,
Trip.” He looked straight ahead, though clearly not seeing me.
Like he was staring into his past. “I saw it in their faces. It was
desperation. They needed me as much as I needed them.”
I found a chair and sat down. “I don’t get it. Granny was
never desperate. Ever.”
He blinked, smiled. “She grew into that woman, Trip. Many
southern women do. Especially the widowers, which would
come soon enough for her.” He paused again, head tilted down.
“Anyway, this was a different kind of desperation. They needed
me because they needed someone new to town. Someone who
didn’t know who they were or what they meant to everyone.”
The light was flickering on above my head now. “They had a
72 Rob Rosen
secret. Something you’d never know about.”
“And was too young to dare ask. Or blab about should I ever
find out,” he told me, head lifted up again, eyes locked with mine.
“She had another child?” I asked.
He laughed, low and soft. “Of course not, Trip. How could
she keep something like that a secret? She couldn’t just disappear
and come back, could she?”
That light above my head was now burning bright. “But my
mom could. A young woman, maybe sent away for a brief time.
Traveling. Going to school.”
He nodded. “To Europe, they told me. She returned just after
I started at the mansion, your father in tow. She said they met in
France, fell in love. They married soon after that, the whole town
turning up, me included.
“Nobody makes these like Pearl does, Trip. This is pure South, this
is.” He popped it in his mouth, then another, sucking the grease
off his fingers, his eyelids fluttering. Gross, I know. “Suppose I
do know something. What would it be worth to you?”
“ Do you know something?” I asked, peeved that I was
suddenly being blackmailed. And by the likes of him, no less.
“I said suppose I know something,” he replied. “Then what?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Jeeves?”
“Walter,” he corrected, wagging his finger at me.
“What do you want, Walter ,” I amended, fairly choking on the
word.
He paused, a new look appearing on his face. It was just for
the briefest of moments, really, a hiccup in time, but I recognized
it just the same. It was sadness. Resigned sadness. “I, I’d like
to keep my job,” he said, his usual gruffness quickly making a
triumphant return.
southeRn FRied 71
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why? You’d be working for me
then.” But I knew the answer even before he told it to me. His
job, after all, was all he knew. Thirty years of it. It was his life.
Without it, there was nothing. He had no family nearby, no home,
no fancy house. So of course he still wanted his job, even with me
now in the mix. So I stopped him. I didn’t need to hear him say it.
In fact, I didn’t want to. “Fine. Your job, plus a ten percent raise,”
I blurted out. “Now, tell me what you know. Please, Walter.”
The sadness on his face returned and stayed put this time.
“Until you mentioned it, I’d completely forgotten about it.” He
sat down, tired looking in his everyday clothes. The chauffeur suit
gave him a regality he was now missing, a respectability. Strange
how I never noticed it before. Anyway, he continued. “Your
grandparents hired me as soon as I walked into the mansion.
Took one look at me and offered me a job. I was just barely in
my twenties. Poor as poor could be, after, well, after I’d recently
lost a job.”
I nodded. “Granny always enjoyed helping out those less
fortunate. I’d seen it as a kid. Betty, in fact, told me something
similar when I met her.”
He sighed, looking all his years. Like he’d been put through
the ringer and still hung up wet. “Yes, she was like that. But still,
I had no experience. And she knew nothing about me. Nor did
your grandfather, for that matter. This was more than charity,
Trip.” He looked straight ahead, though clearly not seeing me.
Like he was staring into his past. “I saw it in their faces. It was
desperation. They needed me as much as I needed them.”
I found a chair and sat down. “I don’t get it. Granny was
never desperate. Ever.”
He blinked, smiled. “She grew into that woman, Trip. Many
southern women do. Especially the widowers, which would
come soon enough for her.” He paused again, head tilted down.
“Anyway, this was a different kind of desperation. They needed
me because they needed someone new to town. Someone who
didn’t know who they were or what they meant to everyone.”
The light was flickering on above my head now. “They had a
72 Rob Rosen
secret. Something you’d never know about.”
“And was too young to dare ask. Or blab about should I ever
find out,” he told me, head lifted up again, eyes locked with mine.
“She had another child?” I asked.
He laughed, low and soft. “Of course not, Trip. How could
she keep something like that a secret? She couldn’t just disappear
and come back, could she?”
That light above my head was now burning bright. “But my
mom could. A young woman, maybe sent away for a brief time.
Traveling. Going to school.”
He nodded. “To Europe, they told me. She returned just after
I started at the mansion, your father in tow. She said they met in
France, fell in love. They married soon after that, the whole town
turning up, me included.
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