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Romance Historical Fiction Funny

The Big House wasn’t big at all, that’s just what they called it. Burl and his mother lived there on her farm which also had a red barn, two mules, four cows, a smokehouse, and an old ramshackle farmhouse where Nora Jo lived with her parents and younger sister. 

About a quarter mile down the dirt road behind the Big House, Nora Jo walked, almost skipped, from the farmhouse toward the Big House.

           She needed to ask Burl a question.

           As she strolled up the road, the warm spring breeze stirred intoxicating feelings in her slender body. The fresh grass seemed greener, the birds sang lovelier, the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle was stronger, and she felt more alive than ever before.

           Planting season was just around the corner, and Nora Jo imagined upcoming cotton fields being thicker and whiter than anyone had ever seen.

           She needed to talk to Burl before he got too busy in the fields.

           He sat on the back stoop of the Big House sharpening a joe blade, a job he could practically do in his sleep. He saw her coming. She looked happy. And pretty. Something in him stirred.

           “Hey, Burl.” Nora Jo was short of breath, but not from the walk. Her heart pounded with excitement.

           “Hey, Nora Jo.” Burl glanced up but kept working on the blade.

           “I was wondering if you would teach me how to drive?” She waited a moment. “I bought a truck today.”

He stopped honing the blade and looked at her.

           After working at the shoe factory for nine months, she had saved enough money for a down payment on a pickup truck. At 19 years old, she was the first in her family to own a vehicle.

            “Well. Where’s your truck?” Burl looked around, craning his neck this way and that, pretending she had it hidden behind her back.

           “It’s at the dealership.” She giggled and put her hands on her hips. “Aunt Jewell took me there this morning.” Her skirt swayed in the breeze. “I was hoping you would teach me to drive before I bring it home. Maybe you could take me to pick it up?”

           The thought of him teaching her to drive sent happy tingles throughout her body.

Yes, indeed, Burl thought, Nora Jo sure has grown up. He had been fourteen years old when she was born in a nearby three-room shack with no electricity or indoor plumbing. She came into this world three weeks early, but lots of love and mama’s milk brought her through and now he was looking at a pretty, young woman.

           Her green eyes glistened in the evening sunset. The thoughts he was having of her seemed so natural – like they had always been there, waiting for the perfect time.

           “Think you can learn to drive?” He teased.

           “I know I can, if you teach me how.” They smiled at each other.

           “Well. I’ll drive down in the morning and pick you up in my truck. We’ll start out in the pasture and see how you do. If you’re ready, I’ll let you drive us into town, and we’ll bring your pickup home. Deal?”

           “Thanks, Burl.” Nora Jo was elated. “I’ll be ready.”

           She turned, feeling his eyes following her, and practically danced down the dirt path back home. Burl watched her for a moment. Noticing his mother standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, he looked down at the blade so she wouldn’t see his pleasure.

           “Mm-hmm. Teaching her how to drive, eh?” his mother said with one raised eyebrow.

           “Well.” The word came out way-el in his West Tennessee accent. When Burl said “way-el” he meant “yes,” which sounded like “yay-es.” Anyone who knew Burl, knew what he intended to say. “What about it?” His eyes twinkled and he couldn’t hold back a smile.

           “I’ll be watching you two.” She wiped her brow with the edge of her apron. “Hun, you listen to your mama. If that sweet girl starts falling for you, you’d best be ready to catch her. You hear me?”

           He didn’t answer, but he heard.

Burl spent the rest of the evening thinking about every detail of the next morning and what Nora Jo would think. Did she think he was old, he wondered? At 33 years old, he was in the best shape of his life. Strong, physically and financially, even as a rural cotton farmer.

           Before daybreak, he awoke. He shaved, tucked his starched white shirt into his pleated pants, slicked his hair back, and shined his shoes. His only regret was that he hadn’t washed the truck. But this was a farm, after all. Besides, she had ridden in his truck many times, just not like this.

           Burl reminded himself this was not a date, but he couldn’t help thinking about sitting close to Nora Jo, close enough to smell her hair, maybe even touch her hand as he showed her how to shift gears.

           Nora Jo was up early, pleased that she’d had the nerve to ask Burl to teach her to drive. She hugged herself thinking of sitting close to him and being alone with him in his truck. She had ridden in his truck before, but not like this. Something made her feel different.

           She had known Burl all her life. He was her landlord. Would he think she was too young, she wondered?

           Burl drove down to Nora Jo’s, the farmhouse that had been in his family for generations. It had one faucet with running water, and electricity had been installed last year. Its wood-burning stove was warm in the winter, but today the windows were open wide capturing the mild spring breeze. Nora Jo’s family tended a huge garden, and a dug cellar was filled with jars of vegetables and fruit.

           When he drove up, Nora Jo came out onto the porch wearing a pretty cotton dress, white with little pink flowers, not her Sunday clothes, but almost as nice. She didn’t want him to see how poor her family really was, though he had been in her house many times.

           “Ready to drive, Nora Jo?” Burl asked from the bottom porch step. The nervousness he felt was not usual for him. Was he excited about being alone with Nora Jo, or nervous about teaching her how to drive?

           “I sure am. The weatherman on the radio said it’s gonna be sunny and dry today.” A perfect day for a drive, she thought. “Do you want me to sit in the driver’s seat?”

           “No, not yet.” He opened the passenger door of his blue 1947 Chevrolet truck. “I’ll show you some things. Then we’ll switch.”

She slid onto the tan bench seat.

           He got in on the driver’s side, shut the door, and started the lesson.

           “Here’s the key to start the motor. You gotta press your foot on the clutch like this before you turn the key.” He started the engine several times until she nodded with understanding.

           Burl drove in a wide circular path, explaining as he went. It wasn’t long before they switched places.

           Nora Jo cranked the engine, just like Burl had done. She put her hand on the stick shift and released the clutch. The engine sputtered and died. It took her three more tries to keep it started, each time Burl encouraged her and told her what to do.

           He slid across the leather bench seat to sit closer to her, to help her.

           Things were going so well that Burl had Nora Jo drive on the main dirt road in front of his house, Sandy Flat Road. There was not much chance of other vehicles coming down the road in either direction, but there was a hill. Once she had managed driving up the hill, turning around, then driving down the hill reasonably well, Burl was confident about his driving student.

           There were no other cars for now, but there were animals. Nora Jo startled as a cottontail rabbit streaked across the road. She pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, didn’t correct in time, and the right front tire slipped from a drop-off into the ditch. It wasn’t deep, but the steering wheel took more strength than she had to right the truck. The engine stalled.

           “Oh, I’m sorry, Burl. What have I done?” Flustered, she asked, “Did I break something?”

           “I don’t think so.” Burl opened his door to get out. The ground was further down than he expected so when he put his foot out, he fell into the ditch and yelped.

           “Oh, no! Are you okay, Burl?”

           “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Burl stood and brushed the dirt from his pants.

           Wishing he had worn his overalls instead of pleated slacks which were now covered in dusty clay-pot-colored soil, he walked around the truck, shaking out the stiffness from his tumble. After opening the drivers’ side door and helping Nora Jo out, Burl steered the tire back up onto the road.

           Wringing her hands, she said, “Maybe we could try again another day, Burl. I’m feeling a little shaky now.”

           But Burl would not hear of it. “Now you know what they say. You’ve got to get right back up on the horse if you fall off, right? Come on. You can do it.”

           Nora Jo got into the driver’s seat, waited for Burl to get in the other side, then cranked the truck and eased off the clutch. She gave it just enough gas to continue down Sandy Flat Road.

           She drove slowly, cautiously, and Burl felt confident she would stay on the road.

           In the distance a cloud of dust approached them. Joe Merle was driving his tractor to work a neighbor’s field. The dirt road was not wide enough for the tractor and the truck to pass by each other. Normally the vehicle driver would edge off the road into the ditch a little and let the tractor pass as it edged over to the opposite side as much as possible.

Nora Jo was driving in the middle of the road.

           “What should I do?” Her hands were sweaty. Burl stayed calm.

           “It’ll be alright. Ease on over into the ditch and we’ll just stop and let him pass.”

           Nora Jo meant to do that, but when the right tires dropped into the ditch it startled her. Instead of braking, she hit the gas and tried to get the tires back on the road. Suddenly she was steering wildly to the left and to the right weaving on and off the road, in and out of the ditch.

           Now Burl panicked. “Hit the brake! Steer right! Hit the brake!”

           The tractor was getting closer.

           Nora Jo was rattled and hit the gas instead.

           The tractor and the truck were closing in. If Nora Jo didn’t move over, she would careen head-first into the tractor. Joe Merle did not have enough room to get out of her way. He would have to take out the barbed wire fence along the road to get out of her way.

           Burl grabbed the steering wheel, jerked it to the right causing all four wheels of the truck to land in the ditch. The engine stalled when it hit the embankment on the right side of the ditch. Joe Merle passed by slowly, came to a stop, and left the motor idling while he got down from the tractor.

           “You folks okay?” he asked Nora Jo and Burl.

           “Way-el.” Burl said.

           “I’m okay, Joe Merle. You doin’ alright today?” Nora Jo asked as though a lopsided truck in the ditch was as normal as rocking a baby to sleep.

           “Fine as frog’s hair.” Joe Merle looked through the driver’s window across to Burl sitting in the passenger’s seat. “Burl, need some help here?”

           Burl’s hair was no longer neatly slicked back. Greasy strands fell onto his forehead and his cowlick was sticking straight up.

           “Way-el.” Burl answered calmly. “Maybe just a little.”

           The two men managed the truck out of the ditch and onto the road.

           Burl looked down at his dusty shoes and pants and sweaty shirt and thought about going back to the Big House to change into his overalls, then thought better of it. No sense in dirtying up two sets of clothes. His mother would complain about having to clean the brownish-red dirt from his nice clothes. She was always complaining about keeping the farm out of her house, a constant struggle for a farming family.

           Burl looked at Nora Jo without a speck of dust on her. She looked as pretty and pristine as though she was heading to church, fresh as a green clover field after a spring rain.

           Nora Jo was apologetic. “I think I’ve got it now, Burl. I was thrown off a bit, but now I see what I should have done. Can we keep going? I’m so excited, and I really do appreciate this so much.”

           Burl didn’t have the heart to say no, so he said, “Way-el. That’ll be alright.”

           True to her word, Nora Jo seemed to have the hang of it. They traveled down Sandy Flat Road all the way to Moore’s Schoolhouse.

           “Turn right here. This’ll take us to Highway 45,” Burl said. “If you’re feeling good, we’ll go to the dealership and get your truck.”

           Burl realized he hadn’t told her about the turn signal when she made the right turn, so when they stopped at Highway 45, he showed her how to use it.

           She activated the right turn signal and stepped on the gas a little too hard. Caught off guard, Burl was thrown into the passenger side door. He had not shut it tightly and when he leaned into it, the door flew open, and Burl fell out onto the gravel shoulder of the highway.

           “Burl! Oh, no! Are you okay?” Nora Jo screamed as she hit the brake and the engine stalled. Burl had hit the gravel on his side and rolled away from the truck.

“I’ll be alright. Just a little bruised, is all.” Burl got to his feet, brushed the dirt and grit from his clothes, and sat back in the truck. When he wiped his face on his shirt, it left a dirty streak on his cheek, but Nora Jo didn’t say anything.

           “Oh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

           “No, no, it was my fault. I didn’t have my door shut tight.” He double checked the door. “Think you can drive us into town?”

           “Seeing as we’re halfway there, I think so. Are you sure you’re okay?”

           “I’ll be fine. The dealership is a straight shot from here. No turns except into the parking lot.” Burl rolled his shoulder, working out the soreness.

           Soon, they arrived at the dealership without incident. Nora Jo handled the paperwork and got the keys while Burl washed up in the lavatory.

           Buddy, the manager at the dealership, met Burl as he was coming out on the outside of the building. Burl’s clothes and shoes were covered in dirt, but he had cleaned his face and hands and wet his wayward hair down flat against his head.

           “Hey, Burl. Are you gonna ride back with Nora Jo? I don’t think she should be driving alone yet. I was thinking, we can drive your truck out to your place in a couple hours. That sound okay to you?”

           “Way-el. That’ll be fine, Buddy. I ‘preciate that.”

           Burl and Nora Jo got into her new 1949 Chevrolet truck.

           “What do you think of the color, Burl? Blue is my favorite color. Almost like your truck except the seats are gray. Do you like it?” Nora Jo was elated.

           “I’m proud of you and your truck, Nora Jo. You’ve really done something good here. I’ll tell you how to take care of the oil and tires and where to put the gas. Let’s set the mirror and check the controls.”

           Burl showed her the light switch, turn signal, wipers, rearview mirror, how to adjust the bench seat, and how to check the amount of fuel in the tank.

           Finally, they were ready to head home.

           Nora Jo drove well under the highway speed limit. Other cars on the road passed her by. She was extra careful, not wanting Burl to fall out again.

           Pulling into the driveway beside the Big House, she said, “Want me to drop you off here, Burl?”

           “No, keep going to your place. I’ll walk back here after I make sure you get home okay.”

           When Nora Jo pulled the truck to the front of her house, her parents and little sister came out on the porch. Burl and Nora Jo got out of the shiny new truck.

           “Burl, how did you get so dirty?” Her sister asked.

           Burl looked at his filthy clothes, trying to think of something to say without blaming Nora Jo.

           “Oh, it’s nothing a little soap and water can’t fix,” he said.

           The family stood around Nora Jo’s new truck with Burl. They talked and admired the truck, complimented Nora Jo, and told her how proud they were.

           When they were all talked out, Burl said he had better be going. After saying their see-ya-laters, her family went into the house. He called out to Nora Jo as she reached the top of the porch steps.

“Nora Jo, I was wondering.” A lump caught in his throat. “Can I take you out for supper in town next Saturday?” He quickly added, “I’ll drive.”

She glanced toward the door, then smiled, about to burst with happiness.

“That’ll be nice.” She waved goodbye, went inside, and wondered what it would be like to live in the Big House with Burl.

February 19, 2021 16:38

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1 comment

Barbara Burgess
11:03 Feb 25, 2021

Hi, I really enjoyed your story. I like how you set it out with opposites and contradictions. Amusing to think of Burl all covered in dirt and dust and Nora Jo still pristine. Very good indeed. Well done.

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