Soul Stirrings:  How looking back gives each of us the freedom to move forward 
by Joyce M. Coleman

Excerpt :  Forces of Nature

Forces of nature took all kinds of strange turns.  As Elsie matured into a young lady and went on to Johnson High School, one of those forces was the interest that young men showed toward her despite Miss Lula’s laws against courting.

Early one evening Elsie and I were in the vegetable garden, picking food for the next day’s meals.  Uncle L’il Bud’s grandson, Junior, ran into the garden yelling, “Elsie, Elsie, ya’ got company!  Ya’ got company.  It’s a boy.  Ooooohhhhh! Ima tell Ain’t Sis (Miss Lula)!”

There we were, barefoot, with our raggedy field clothes on.  Elsie’s shirt was in the peach tree!  She hollered to Junior, “take’em to the gallery and keep’em there.”  Elsie grabbed her shirt and ran out of the garden, into the house.

Papa had retired to his room for the evening.  John Willie was already shooting the breeze with the guys, and could barely hide his laughter as he anticipated a different kind of evening for us. Elsie asked me to go out and talk to the gentlemen – students from Johnson High- while she quickly cleaned herself up and tried to do something with her wet, perspiring head of hair.

Miss Lula would have had a fit if she could have seen me meet company in my state.  My long hair was wild.  I didn’t bother to put shoes on, or change my clothes.  I was indignant way beyond my almost nine years of age.  Our evening activity was about to be ruined.  And we hadn’t eaten supper yet!  I introduced myself as Mollie Jean, and asked him what business had he come to our home to conduct.  He said he came to see Elsie.

“What for?” I asked. 

“Jes’ ta’ see ‘er,” he stammered. 

I asked if he realized that our mother, Miss Lula, did not permit courting at our house.  Further, I explained that it was rude and inconsiderate for him to come to our home when our parents weren’t around

“So, why did you really come?” I asked again. 

The poor boy was tongue-tied.  He began stammering so badly I could no longer understand him.  He stepped off the gallery and looked around the yard for a bit.  It was now first night. 

“Ah-h-h-h b’liev’ Ah see mah ride comin,” he announced. 

“Good. Where?” I asked. 

“Rat-rat-rat ovah dah,” he said as he pointed in the general direction of the vegetable garden. 

There was no road in that direction.  I looked closely and saw a bunch of lightning bugs flitting around.  By the time I turned back the young man was dashing through our yard gate and through the patch, toward Uncle L’il Bud’s house and the road beyond.  We never knew how he got home because his ride had left him without transportation.

John Willie and I looked at each other, smiled, and announced, “Supper-time!”

 Return to Soul Stirrings home page.