Walking barefoot along the water's edge in the early morning sunlight I wasn't worried upon spying a moccasin, and I could tell by his relaxed appearance he didn't know I was there. Suddenly lifting its head and sucking back in a tighter coil with its forked tongue flicking out, spring-loaded and ready to strike. Carefully watching the snake's head while moving in a flurry, forward, sideways then backward, and in that single action filled instant the snake's cotton white mouth spread open and with two dangerous fangs showing it struck, missed, landing stretched out on the ground. Allowing no time for recoil I caught the snake by its tail, and like popping a blacksnake whip, I popped its head of.

Leaving the moccasin's twitching body on the ground I spied a coon at water's edge washing its paws, and beyond that another snake out on the open water. Without disturbing the coon I climbed up high into one of my favorite trees and after sitting down on one of the big limbs then leaning back against another, watching a deer with a fine rack loping leisurely under my perch. Up in a different tree I could see a bear over in the black berry briars eating his fill, and slowly my eyes drifted shut. But one of two playing squirrels almost scooting up my arm woke me.

I had come to the woods in an attempt to quit worrying, but wound up only fooling myself, and then my mind drifted back to last Sunday afternoon. I went with Dad over to the stave mill, and listened to the president speak about going to war because of a bad man named Hitler, and the trouble he was causing over in Europe. However, between what the president said, and what those men at the stave mill and Dad said, I was totally confused.

How terrible can war really be—I wondered. With my actual knowledge of the world limited to no more than two miles in any direction from where I stood, and with my thoughts locked onto the big globe of the world in my class room—how in this world should I know what a world war means—I questioned myself. Of course I had no answer, but I imagined it might well be the ending of time as Brother Farmer had promised in one of his sermons.

In spite of my desire to stay in the bottoms forever I had a strong premonition that life as I knew to it to be was about to change and, "With this war coming on, the economy is going to get better, and I should be able to find a real job," Daddy confirmed my fears. But maybe it wouldn't be that bad, after all I had been to town before. Actually twice, once with my family on the back of uncle J.B.'s strip down Model T pick-up truck to enjoy the Rice carnival. The second time I was allowed to go along with Dad, and walk eight miles out to the black top, then hitchhike the rest of the way. Of course a south Arkansas small town isn't very much to see, but in my eyes it was the grandest thing that I had ever seen, and after my two trips I reckoned that I had seen just about everything.

Then my premonition became a reality, and when school let out for the summer I had only two busy weeks to say good-bye to the backwoods bayou country and the three room shack with cracks in the walls and floor you could see through; on the same small ridge, always above water level even with the flooding waters rushing by, with a pig pen, a chicken pen and a small barn. Though I wasn't looking forward to trading all of this for the never-never land of city life, the rest of my family looked forward to it.

* * *

While loading all of our belongings on a borrowed Ford Model-T truck, I busily considered my God-given talents and backwoods teachings as opposed to those I would need in town. My quick hands could snatch a striking rattlesnake out of the air, or choke a cottonmouth moccasin to death; and I can outrun a bear up a tree, get close enough to a buck deer to touch him, sit quite enough up in the trees for the birds to gather around and never quit singing, move quiet enough through the bottoms so that the smaller critters never paid me no mind, actually I was one of them, but I certainly wasn't a town creature. Suddenly it came upon me as if someone out yonder was telling me the secret —confidence—in the bottoms I had plenty, and in town I would have to get me some. Then with the house empty, and the truck loaded, we were on our way moving into town.

As the days passed I grudgingly admitted living in town had some advantages, electric lights you could turn on by pulling a string, and a house with walls I couldn't see out through. But the hardest thing for me to accept was a toilet inside of the house.

As spring wore on I became restless and leaving the house with the rising of the sun I located the park I had heard about. As I entered I recognized a large pick-nick area with several stone tables and attached benches under the big spreading oak shade trees. Leaving the pick-nick area I entered the children's play area, with sliding boards, swing sets, sand boxes, a go-around, and molded forms of several small animals mounted on springs for the little kids to bounce on. After sliding down one long sliding board I decided to see what else was there, and walked slowly passed a bathhouse and swimming pool, tennis courts, and two ball diamonds.

Of course I knew that the park wasn't mine alone to enjoy, but it surprised me to see other young people over by the swimming pool, the tennis courts and ball diamonds—have they seen me—I wondered. Then I wondered—what difference dose it make if they have seen me or not—until I realized they were all so neat and nice, dressed in what I would call Sunday clothes. My cut-off overalls, patched on both sides of the seat, didn't match up.

Suddenly feeling like a wild animal about to be caught, I had to get away, or hide somewhere. For several days this went on, with me slipping around and hiding behind the trees, or what ever else I might find, always peeping out and wishing I could join in the fun. Of course the only person bothered about me getting caught was my self. Then I realized though the other kids saw me now and then, and thought me quite odd, they never thought once about trapping me.

The park was O K for a while, but missing the lure of the swamp and the wild things to play with soon got the best of me; then realizing spring was gone, and summer was slipping slowly away, I expanded my area of exploration over most of the town and often out into the countryside. Then school crossed my mind, and with summer almost over—why haven't I saw the schoolhouse—I wondered. I had seen the football stadium, the track and where they played baseball, but no schoolhouse. Well I will just have to try harder, and starting my search down by the stadium, around by the track and across the ball diamond, but still no schoolhouse. Somewhat exasperated, but also hungry—well the schoolhouse will have to wait for another day—I thought turning toward home.

Thinking about that blackberry cobbler in the refrigerator at the house I hurried my step and suddenly came face to face with the fact that I had been looking for the wrong thing. The four story building and well-manicured grounds, covering a city block, a far cry from the one room sating on the bank of the bayou, stopped me in mid stride. "Glory be" I shouted—how in this world can I go to school there—I thought—once I get inside I will never be able to find my way out again.

With my hunger forgotten I hurried home, and the short time it took me to run the eight blocks wasn't without effort, then short of breath I rushed through the house until I finally found Mamma in the kitchen, "Mamma! Mamma! Please tell me true! Is that the schoolhouse over there on Tenth and Sundown I saw a while ago"? I asked, almost shouting, with confusion sounding in my voice

The sound of my voice and the look in my eyes told Mamma all she needed to know and, "Now Son don't go getting all in a stew. But yes, that is the schoolhouse where you will go."

"Ah Mamma! Ain't there a smaller one? I'll just go over there and get lost, then run around all day like a chicken with his head cut off, and never get to class anyhow."

"Son you can do it. Besides a chicken with his head cut off can't see where he is going, and you have got two good eyes. And if you can track any animal that you want through the swamp, surely you can back-track yourself in a free and clear school hallway anytime."

Well I hadn't looked at it that way, and since Mom's advice was most nearly always spot on, I would take her word for it. Through the first two years Mamma's word held true. But it was fairly easy, Junior High, the seventh and eighth grades, were all on the first floor and as long as I kept my eye on the "EXIT" sign, which was spelled out in red lights, I always knew where I was.

Then High School, and into the never-never land as far as junior high students were concerned, the upper four floors. With my book locker on the second floor hall and my classes scattered all over. Between taking some of the longest routes, and being nearly lost a part of the time, I had to oft-time hurry to get to class before the bell sounded. But after a couple of weeks I became accustomed to moving about in the halls and making each class before starting time with a certain amount of ease.

My few friends from junior high were mostly all in my class again; and with things falling into line, I and my friends were social outcasts, or at least we seemed to be. But a lot of it was our own fault, and though I knew why, I couldn't explain it. It had to do with some words that I had heard, but could only guess at their meaning. Introverted! Self-conscious! Bashful! Backward! And the most damaging of all, one that I understood very well, poor white trash! But somehow the latter didn't seem to fit with the others and was the one I could do very little about, because I was poor and white. But trash! Never!

I knew that if I wanted things to be different I had to make it happen myself. But without me realizing it the latter restriction just melted away. While working on construction with Dad, and actively participating in the athletic program at school, I developed into a handsome young man with a flat top crown of platinum hair, sky blue eyes that could turn bright gray or even sparkling green at times, and perfect white teeth. All of this seemed to make my social status unimportant; except to that tight little circle of goodies-goodies who though they were better than anyone else.

As graduation day drew near I looked back on my life as it had been up until now, and was grateful for all that had happened, and also looking forward to the future with optimism. With my selected football scholarship on hold for a year, I needed to work enough to stabilize my financial situation before going to college; and I went to work with Dad over at rice mill. A fire had damaged the mill, and strong bodies and willing minds were needed to repair the remaining structure, while keeping the mill in operations.

Most of the work on replacing the burnt out mill was completed by the turn of the year and Dad and his crew, which included me, was being sent to Jonesboro to do a big expansion on the mill up there. I had been accepted as a man for a long time, but now, not only would I be expected to do a man's work, I would also be expected to be a lead man. However, being lead man wasn't that big of a deal. It only meant that Dad would expect me to work twice as hard as any of the other men working for him.

Leaving home, I knew Mamma and Daddy had done the best they could, and in spite of the depression they had gotten all of us kids through it healthy, of good faith and patriotic Americans. But from here on it was all up to me to take care of myself, and help Mamma and Daddy every time I could. However, coming from such humble beginnings I knew better than to think someone, or something, would take care of me, and I knew it wasn't going to be easy. No pie in the sky for me, but with the Good Lord as my Sheppard, and 'me' keeping a close watch over 'me', I would make it. Satisfied with my self counseling session I was on my way, vowing to check on myself often enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Of course being away from home for the first time, and me and Cousin Bo did something most every night, generally hanging out down town. Then looking for something new to do, "There is a basketball game over at Nettleton, and maybe we can find some girls over there," Bo said.

"OK! I am all for that," I replied

* * *

As we came in through the gym doors most of the young people looked at us, but it was just a glance to see who. Of course Peggy Sue, a local preacher's daughter, had seen Bo several times—but who is that with him—she thought, watching me without watching me at the same time.

* * *

Of course Bo had been here before, and knew girl watching was better from up high, and with him leading the way I became aware of a pair of female eyes, from about half way up, watching me without watching me at all and I wondered—how is she doing that.

* * *

At the top of the steps Bo turned in between the top two rows of seats with me following him. While turning to sit down I caught her at it again and before my bottom hit the seat, "I have to go to the rest room," I said, nudging Bo with my elbow. All I hoped for was a good look at her, probably on the way back up.

* * *

With me on the way down Peggy Sue decided to have another look, and after stepping out into the aisle then turning we were suddenly facing each other, "Hello. I was just going downstairs," she breathed in a hushed whisper.

* * *

I didn't know what to do. This is what I had come to see and looking into large brown eyes I could see my reflection, then rosy red lips like the ones that I had dreamed about kissing maybe a million times, and the top of her head came up to just under my arm pit—how am I supposed to get over this without making a complete fool out of myself—I wondered. But I quickly gathered my wits and, "Hello. Shall we go down together?" I asked.

With a smile on her face, "Yes, let's do it together," she said. Then turning and taking my hand into hers, "That sounds like so much fun," and with a slight tug she urged me toward the outside door.

Just before going outside I stopped, and with my hands on her shoulders I turned her to face me, "My name is Ted, Ted Shannon," I said.

"Oh!" as if she had forgotten there was such a thing as names. "I am Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue Jacobs," she said, turning back then moving forward again. "I was just leaving, and will you walk me home?" she asked, but as a foregone conclusion, we were already outside on the sidewalk.

With a bashful blush spreading across my face, "Yes maam. I'll be glad to walk you home. But do you reckon that you might get cold, it's pretty chilly out here?" I said, suddenly realizing that I wasn't bashful anymore, instead I was feeling comfortable with her.

Then snuggling up close and wrapping her small hands around as much of my upper arm as she could, "I am dressed pretty warm. But you will keep me cozy. Want you?" she asked.

"Umm Hum! Oh Yeah! I'll keep you cozy and warm," I agreed.

The shadows cast by the big shade trees lining both sides of the street were dark in contrast to the bright moonlight. It was like going in and out of several big tents, alternating between shadow and moonlight, and with her tucked in tight against my side and her hands holding onto my upper arm I silently thanked the good Lord for this opportunity.

The car in the driveway warned Peggy Sue, her father was at home and, "Shhhhhhhhhhhh!" she whispered softly, laying her finger up across her lips. "Let's not make any noise, and we can set in the swing for a while. If father knows I am here, he will make me come in," and after leading me across the porch she pushed me down into the swing then settled down beside me.

I didn't know if I was following her lead, or if I was being forward, but I knew I didn't want to stop and slipped my arm around her shoulders, then her head come to rest against the side of my chest. Though I felt comfortable with her, I didn't want to be aggressive, and my hand settled on her upper arm. Peggy Sue felt no such restriction. She was comfortable with the limitations that she had set long ago. However my limitations were as always, the code that I lived by, always treat a girl as she expected to be treated.