FRONT-PORCH GOSPEL: This life story begins in 1973 (kind of) – part 12
Doocy snapped my mind back to reality in a hurry.
He ran his mortar-stained webbed hand – more of a paw than a hand – down the side of my face and said to Billy Ray who was sitting on the tailgate of the truck watching, “Yeah, I was right all along, Pee Wee. “This white babyface ain’t never seen a razor of no kind. It’s as smooth as a newborn baby’s behind, thet’s how smooth this boy’s face is.”
He turned back to me, and the thought that came to my mind was there really wasn’t anything left for this Doocy to do but slap me across the side of that face to show his disgust for having to deal with a “young’n” like me for the rest of the summer.
But Doocy showed grace that day. It was a grace I was privileged to see a number of times during those sweltering days of summer. It seemed that over the weeks that would follow, Doocy could see right through me, like he was looking through a window. If I came on the job just a little down and out, not in the mood for any shenanigans, he would know it and would kind of reflect my mood.
One day a week or so later I came in that way with a long face. Thinking back, now I know why. Doocy noticed it as soon as I pulled up to the job and crawled slowly out of my red Nova.
He just came over by me as he was beginning to grab some tools out of Red’s old truck, and without so much as a “Good mornin” he said, “Pup, we gots to do lots of work t’day; you jus’ stay close to ol’ Doocy heah and you’ll be awright.”
He would seldom look at me when he was being “a mite tender” as he’d call it, he’d just carry on his work with that same air about him as if he were made of nothing but tough beef jerky through and through.
But it wasn’t ten minutes later that day while we were working on the north side of the house that William didn’t like something I did, or didn’t do. I could have been a hundred things I did wrong.
He started to fuss at me the way Doocy did. But he hardly got half of one of Ms. Love’s sentences with her subjects and predicates out when Doocy came around the corner pushing a wheelbarrow of mud. When he heard William starting to fuss at me, he lit into William something fierce. It surprised me, because I had never seen him do that before.
“Willum, you bettah get your behind-end away from my Pup thar and gets to doin’ somethin’ someplace else, ‘cause you gonna find more trouble over heah than you want,” he yelled, “Can’t you see the Pup’s got thang’s on his mind today? Huh? Can’t yuh see thet? Is ya blind as a bat, Willum? Let the Pup be, and get on with yourself,” he said, ever what that meant.
William understood, because when he started to argue Doocy slammed that wheelbarrow down and grabbed the shovel out of it and moved toward William with a scowl on his face that meant business; and ol’ William didn’t say a word, just grabbed a brick hammer Pee Wee had been yelling for and hurried around to the front of the house.
I think Doocy scared me that day more than he did on this first day. I think he would’ve used that shovel if William had said another word.
Continued next week.
Coach Steven Bowen, a long-time Red Oak teacher and coach, now enjoys his time as a writer and preacher of the gospel. And, after a ten-year hiatus, he’s also returned to work with students at Ferris High School as well.
In addition to his evangelistic travels, he works and writes for the Church of Christ of Red Oak at Uhl Road and Ovilla. Their worship times are 10 a.m. Sundays and 7:30 pm. Wednesdays. Email coachbowen1984@gmail.com or call or text (972) 824-5197.