Thumbs up

It had been twenty-seven years since I last set foot in my hometown of Berryville, Texas. When my wife found out they renamed the town after my paternal grandfather, she insisted we pay a visit.

“Why have you never told me your family has a town named after them?” she asked. Marlene comes from money, and her parents donate a lot to schools and colleges to have their names plastered on buildings. Mitchell Sports Center is home to the basketball team, and there's the Mitchell library. “My family pays to be remembered, but my understanding is that your grandfather didn’t have much money. Did he found the city?” she asked, “Is that why they named it after him?”

“No, nothing like that.” I took a sip of bottled water as we approached Berryville.

“Did he discover oil?”

“No, nothing like that either,” I said, “Listen; Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain. I love that song.” I cranked the volume up and sang along, hoping to quash the interrogation.

As soon as the song was over, Marlene turned the volume back down. “You should be proud of your heritage,” she said, “I can’t believe you never talked about your grandfather before. What did he do for a living?”

“He worked at the slaughterhouse until the accident.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“A slicer took off four fingers on his right hand. Left him with only a thumb, he wasn’t much use after that. My grandmother took in laundry and stitched up britches to make ends meet.”

“How did your grandfather make money after the accident?”

“Mostly he would hustle people playing pool. Turns out a thumb, and four nubs make for a pretty good pool bridge. He had to learn to play left-handed, but over time he became a master at it.”

“There, you see. In the face of adversity, your grandfather managed to find a way to earn money. You should be proud of that. Maybe you disapprove of his gambling, but it shows what a man with determination, one good hand, and a thumb can do.”

“Of, course there was the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“Look, honey. I didn’t want to make this trip in the first place. And I sure as shit don’t want to talk about why they named the town after my grandfather. Can we just get this visit over with and let it all go?”

“Robert Berry. What’s gotten into you? After twenty-seven years of marriage, I know virtually nothing about your family. Your father never says a word, and your mother drinks enough for the two of them. Is there some dark secret you’re holding back?”

I pulled up to the Berryville Saloon. The tires on the rental car crunched gravel, letting everyone inside know a stranger had just pulled up. Most of the town’s residents walked to the saloon and staggered home. No one ever drove to the bar since the entire town was no more than a mile square. “Thank God we’re here.”

I saw someone pull the curtains back at one of the window booths. Everyone in the place must have been waiting to see who was pulling in for a drink. My wife adjusted my shirt collar and brushed something off my nose. “Don’t touch my nose,” I said.

“What is it with you?” she said, “You’d think you were going to meet your childhood sweetheart.” My wife gasped. Is that why you didn’t want to come here? You didn’t want me to meet your old flame?”

“I left here when I was fifteen. I’m not worried about seeing some old flame. In fact, I doubt anyone will even recognize me after all these years. Let’s go in, get something to eat, and get the hell out of Berryville.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted.

The place hadn’t changed much after almost three decades. And if you’re wondering what a fifteen-year-old was doing in a saloon, back then, don’t. In a town like Berryville, there’s no sheriff, and if there were, he’d probably ask the bartender to babysit his kids. I took my first shot of whiskey when I was ten. It tasted godawful, and that’s the reason I don’t drink.

The facade consisted of ten-by-six-inch wood planks that hadn’t seen a drop of paint since the Korean War. Five wooden pillars help up a corrugated aluminum roof that provided minimal protection from the heat. I opened the saloon door for my wife and had to close my eyes momentarily. The bar was dark, and I walked into complete darkness. That’s when I heard a familiar voice. “As the angels live and breathe, is that Bobby Berry?” someone hooted.

The entire saloon heard us pull up, and so every eye was already on us. “Jerry Potkins. Is that you?” I said as I pinched my eyes, trying to regain my sight.

“Little Bobby Berry, how the hell are ya?” Two massive arms wrapped themselves around my torso.

“I’m good,” I said, “I’m good. Jerry–.” I indicated the woman standing next to me. “This is my wife, Marlene.”

“Woo, dogie! This is one good looking woman.” Jerry took Marlene’s hand and kissed it. “Hey, everyone.” He turned to the room. “This is Bobby Berry, grandson of the legendary Amos Berry, who this town is named after.” A round of applause went up from the tables and barstools.

Several of my grammar school buddies came over and patted me on the back. “Your money is no good here,” Jerry said. “Dinner and drinks are on the house.” Just then, a fiddle player broke into an amateurish rendition of The Devil went down to Georgia. When the song ended, Jerry stood on a chair to make a speech. “I don’t know what brings this young man and his hot, little chili pepper wife to Berryville, but we are honored to have them both in our presence.” He looked down at Marlene, “Mrs. Berry, has Bobby ever told you why his grandfather is so famous?”

Marlene blushed. “No, he won’t talk about his grandfather. Heck, I just found out he lost four fingers in a work accident.”

“Well, little missy. Tonight, you are going to hear the legendary acts that caused the city council, such as they were, to rename the town, Berryville.”

“That’s okay, Jerry. I’ll tell her in private,” I said.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Jerry jumped off the chair and came over to examine my nose.

“Don’t touch my nose,” I yelled. The bar erupted in laughter.

“I see your grandfather passed down some of his family traits.” The room laughed again. I could see that Marlene was getting uncomfortable.

“Thumbs up, thumbs up, thumbs up,” the room chanted.”

“Come on, Bobby,” one of my school mates shouted, “Don’t leave us hanging. Amos made a living going from bar to bar, taking bets, and cleaning up. It’s how he supported your grandmother after the accident.”

“Do they want you to play pool for money?” Marlene asked. The laughter went up a hundred decibels, and a few drunks fell off their barstools.

Screw it, I thought. I turned to Marlene. “You’re embarrassed that your parents pay money to have buildings named after them? You don’t know what embarrassment is. Here’s how you get a Texas town named after you.” I turned to the room and shouted, “Put your money where your mouth is, boys. If I come up empty you’ll double your money.”

The excitement level rose. Guys were handing Marlene five, ten and twenty-dollar bills. They continued chanting, “Thumbs up, thumbs up!” The bartender took a napkin and gave it to me.  I noticed a level of pride building on Marlene’s face. I had inherited my grandfather’s talent, such as it was, and my old buddies were willing to pay to see it. Marlene counted the stash. There were one-hundred-and-seventy-dollars in various denominations. Marlene got caught up in the excitement and joined in the chorus. “Thumbs up, thumbs up,” she chanted.

I closed my fist into a thumbs-up sign and held it high in the air. The room went nuts. I flared my nostrils and shoved my right thumb halfway up my nose. I wiggled it in a counter-clockwise direction and then pulled it out complete with a thumbnail full of green dried mucus. Everyone raised their glasses in celebration and shouted, Berry, Berry.” Marlene was aghast when she realized they had named the town after my grandfather because he could pick his nose clean with his thumb.

I wiped the boogers on the napkin and went in for the second nostril. My thumb came out with a similar result. “Drinks are on me,” I shouted. I took the wad of cash from Marlene’s hand and gave it to the bartender. She hadn’t moved since seeing what the family talent was. I wiggled my thumb and said, “Pool anyone?” A dozen men followed me to the pool table to see if I possessed my grandfather’s other talent.