Most people in Cottonville know that when Aunt Nancy was a child a lot of people didn’t bother with too much schooling. When she was in the third grade at Arkabutla Consolidated School, she had what she thought was the best teacher in the world; Miss Elizabeth Chalmers, or Miss Lizzie, as most people called her. She learned to read pretty well and she learned her multiplication tables. It was a good year for her. She had come a long way, but she had no idea how far she had to go. The next year she decided that it had been so good she would just stay in the third grade. Everybody tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t hear of moving up. So they let her stay. The second year was so good, she wanted to stay again. This time however, her mama said no.
“People will thing you’s slow if you spend another year in the same grade,” she said. “I can hear the gossip now. I ain’t gonna let you stay in the third grade for the third year.”
“I don’t care what people say. If I can’t stay in Miss Lizzie’s room, I ain’t gonna go back.”
And that’s just what she did. She quit school and helped out at home. This was not unusual; a lot of folks in America did just that. It seemed to work out pretty good for Aunt Nancy. She learned all she needed to about farm life. She learned to cook and can, to tend to a garden and the livestock, and to run the farm accounts, including the banking. Then when she was 16 she met Mr. Gilbert Hoskins and they got married, had a couple of boys, and settled into the rest of their lives. But then when the boys were 6 and 8, he died, leaving Aunt Nancy all alone with those two young’uns.
Aunt Nancy may have quit school after two years in the third grade, but she wasn’t dumb by a long shot. She sold a little dollar cotton, raised a few cow, and traded some mules, and she managed to send her two boys off to Ole Miss and save a little on top of that. And she had done it all on that little forty acre farm near the Savage bluff.
It wasn’t just any forty acres though. It was the nicest little piece of bottom land in the county. Anybody in their right mind would have jumped at the chance to buy it, if only it came up for sale. Many of the locals sat there waiting for the opportunity. The problem was Aunt Nancy didn’t want to leave. Her boys had moved away and had their own kids, and their kids had had kids, and their kids were having kids, but she wouldn’t budge. She was about as stubborn as a mule. For almost fifty years they had been trying to get her to move in with them, but she refused to even talk about it.
“Your Pa died on this place,” she always told them, “and I reckon I’ll do the same.”
And so she stayed on. Every year she out lived a few of those people wanting her piece of land, and eventually their kids and even their kids. But now these were good people, they may have wanted Aunt Nancy’s farm, but none of them were jealous of Aunt Nancy, and of course they would have never tried to beat her out of it, all but one banker over in Tunica that is.
Banker Dave was a low down, no good, scallywag, money hungry Yankee, from Memphis. His Uncle had moved down to Tunica and bought the bank years ago. He was ok by most people’s standards around these parts. He had been fair and honest, or at least as fair and honest as you would expect from a banker. He was pretty good people. Most folks liked him, and he was accepted as a local. Then his family lost him. When I say they lost him, I don’t want you to feel too bad, he didn’t die. He went down to Moon Lake fishing one day, and he never came back. He met Mr. Terry Johnson’s widow and lost all interest in banking, and eventually shaving. That was when Banker Dave came down and took things over. Banker Dave, unlike his Uncle, was not good people. I don’t want to start any gossip, but it’s said he ate supper before saying grace.
When Banker Dave first came down he was single. This didn’t go unnoticed by the local gaggle of single women in and around Tunica. They hounded that poor man night and day. The worst of them was Marge Jessup. She was an over developed waitress at the Welcome Wagon Restaurant in a real short skirt, high heels, and a platinum blond wig. Fighting the local singles off was a second job, and Banker Dave got tired of the work. It didn’t take long before he decided to ask his girlfriend, Miss Elizabeth Crump, to get married. All went well, she said yes, and he decided to bring her down to Tunica for an engagement party. The whole town got ready, and one Friday afternoon she took the train down to Tunica and checked into the Marie Hotel. On Saturday, the day of the party, she went to meet Banker Dave for lunch at the Welcome Wagon before the party. Now Banker Dave has never been anyplace on time. Gossip has it his poor mama was in labor with him for two days. When he did show up Miss Elizabeth was so hot she pitched a hissy fit right there, went back to the Hotel, and refused to leave. She was going back to Memphis, and the wedding was off. Nobody could get her to change her mind. And nobody could get her to leave for the engagement party. Then Aunt Nancy walked into the Welcome Wagon for a piece of their apple pie, and heard the whole story.
“Well if brains was lard the lot of you couldn’t fry an egg,” she said. “Now ya’ll just git Banker Dave over to the party, and leave the rest to someone who understands women.”
As the group headed out she told Pinky Douglas to go over to the Marie Hotel, sit down in the lobby near Miss Elizabeth, and wait for her. Pinky did just that. Then after about ten minutes Aunt Nancy walked in and sat down beside her.
“Oh, heavens to Betsey,” Aunt Nancy said. “You should see what’s goin’ on over at that party. Marge Jessup is in a skirt so short it might as well be a belt. She’s got everything the Good Lord give her hanging out, and when she bends over you can almost see all the way to the promise land. It’s shameful, that’s what it is, and him almost a married man. I don’t know where that fiancé of his is, but if she don’t git over there pretty quick, it’ll be too late.”
About that time she glanced over to see what Miss Elizabeth was doing. But all she could see was a blur headed for the door. Aunt Nancy walked over to the party and said her howdy do’s and went on back home. In June they got married in Memphis, and that was almost fifty years ago.
Now you would think saving his marriage like that would mean something to a man, and at first he was as thankful as he could be. But then on his first trip to Cottonville to thank Aunt Nancy, he fell in love with her farm. Instead of being grateful, he decided he had to have that farm, at any price. Now when he said any price, he didn’t mean he was going to walk up and offer her a wagon load of money. No sir’re. He meant no matter how hard it was going to be to beat her out of it; he was going to do it. And he tried everything, but nothing worked. Aunt Nancy always won. And it always cost Banker Dave. He either lost his money, a little bit of his pride, or both.
One day in late winter Aunt Nancy bought a $10,000 railroad bond and she needed a place to keep it safe. She went in to the bank and talked to the teller, Poky Dot Miller, for a few minutes, and then went and sat in front of Banker Dave’s door. Poky Dot motioned for him and he came out and spoke.
“Ms. Marks,” he said. “What a nice surprise. Come right in and tell me what I can do for you today.”
“I need to borrow some money,” she said as she sat down.
“Well any amount of money you need Ms. Marks,” he said as he smiled.
“I need to borrow a dollar,” she said, with a straight face.
“A dollar,” Banker Dave yelled. “I can’t lend you a dollar, that’s crazy.”
“You’re a liar then, ‘cause you just said you would lend me any amount of money I needed, and I need a dollar. But if you don’t want my business then Mr. Beadie over at the Farmers Bank might be interested.”
“Now hold on Ms. Marks I guess I can loan you a dollar,” Banker Dave grumbled. Everybody knew it wasn’t her business he was afraid of losing, if she stopped banking with him, he’d never get that farm.
“Good and I have this here $10,000 railroad bond for collateral,” she said.
This got Banker Dave’s attention. If he couldn’t beat her out of the farm, maybe he could get that bond. An old woman like that borrowing a dollar when she had a big old bond must be senile. She’d probably forget all about the dollar, and forget what she did with the bond. So he drew up the paper work and charged her 16% interest to boot. He said he would loan her a dollar, but he never said anything about being neighborly about the interest rate. She signed, gave him the bond, got her dollar in change, and went home.
A year went by, and the day the loan was due came around. It was a miserable day. It was cold and sleeting, and nobody was coming into town. All day Banker Dave kept his eye on the door waiting on Aunt Nancy. As each minute turned into another hour, he got happier. Then, ten minutes before closing time, here comes Aunt Nancy.
“Ms. Marks, bless your soul, why are you out and around on such an unpleasant afternoon.”
“You know why I’m here,” she said. “I need to pay my loan.”
Banker Dave looked confused. “Oh, I am sorry Ms. Marks; I forgot that you even had a loan.”
“Do tell Banker Dave, I find that hard to believe. Shall we go back to your office?”
Banker Dave did his best not to show how upset he was over the matter. Not two minutes earlier he was sure he had become $10,000 richer. He showed her in, and Aunt Nancy sat down. She pulled out four quarters, put them on his desk, then pulled out two nickels, and two pennies, and put them beside the dollar.
“That’s the one dollar for the loan, and there’s the twelve cents interest,” she said. “Now I’ll be having my bond, and I’ll head home.”
Banker Dave was having trouble letting go of that railroad bond. “Ms. Marks, you didn’t have to come all this way just to pick this up. I would have held that loan till it cleared up a little.”
“Of course you would have Banker Dave,” she said with a smile. Then she wrestled that bond loose from his stingy little hands, and headed for the door.
Banker Dave came out of his office in a conniption. “Ms. Marks,” he barked in front of all the bank employees, “I do have one question for you.”
“Yes sir Banker Dave, I thought you might,” she said as she stopped, smiled, and turned to see him standing red faced at the door of his office.
If you had a $10,000 railroad bond, why in tarnations would you want to borrow a single dollar, did you go completely senile?”
“Well no sir I didn’t do no such thing. You see I needed a safe place to keep my bond for a year. I asked Poky Dot about a safe deposit box, and she told me it would be $6.99, and I done got you to keep it safe for me for the whole year for just twelve cents.
She turned and walked out, got in her wagon, and rode home. Banker Dave, they say, went in his office and cried for the rest of the night.
too funny.....love it!
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