By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Just A Doodle Painting by Gloria Faye Brown Bates…
I was out on the deck, rearranging the table, chairs. It was a nice evening. I was waiting for Skip to get home.
Occasional traffic passed by below… I stood at the rail to watch for Skip. We lived in a fairy tale setting; up on a little mountaintop where one drove up a long, steep driveway to get to our home.
Rocks were on both sides of the driveway… they’d been placed there before we moved there. There were trees on both sides of the driveway. It was absolutely beautiful.
I had always loved to play in the dirt… make flower gardens. I loved to arrange rocks, and such. When we moved there… I saw the prettiest rocks; I wanted to use them in my flower gardens.
Little did I know… how dangerous it was. Snakes were under those rocks! Where we lived, there were moccasins, copperheads as well as king snakes. I began moving rocks to arrange them until I lifted up a rock, not one time… not two times… but, three times… to find snakes coiled up under them!
I put each rock back as quickly as I had lifted it…. and jumped back. My heart would beat fast inside my chest… I would feel breathless. Fear! I would even feel cold chills on my skin! I never tried to kill a snake because it was their natural habitat.
Once when raking the ‘million’ leaves up there… a snake crawled over my feet! Oh my… I screamed, jumped up and down!
The only time I killed a snake was when a copperhead was too close to little kittens that were curious about it. It was coiled up to strike. I felt bad for having to kill it… also, it was at our Pups‘ fenced-in yard. I would fight a bear to save our Pups… I love them that much.
Anyway… I was in a happy mood that evening. I happily moved things around on the deck. I had walked to the rail to stand there to look down at the highway through the trees. Trees surrounded our home…. it was beautiful.
So peaceful… birds sang to each other. Little kittens played nearby in the trees. They were feral kittens… I fed feral cats that lived in the woods. Their mother was teaching them to hunt. I was amazed… I had a perfect view.
A huge, white pickup came into view, slid to a stop down on the highway. The sound was very loud, awful… it didn’t belong in such a peaceful setting.
I looked down at it as it sat there several moments… the windows were tinted dark black. All of a sudden, the pickup took off in the opposite way it had came, slid to another stop… several yards from our mailbox.
Our mailbox was one of those big mailboxes. It was very pretty… I had painted a farm scene on it. I hoped no one would destroy it… we lived in a deserted area, and on that road… mailboxes were destroyed frequently.
I saw a big, white guy get out of the passenger side of the truck. He was a very clean-cut guy, he had blonde hair. He was nice-looking… he reminded me of my son, Tommy. One paid attention to big guys like them… handsome, tall.
I was wondering ‘why?’ he was going to walk up to the house, instead of them driving up. The big guy stood outside the truck, reached in for something…..
What happened next… happened so fast. It put me into a shock… I became very afraid. I was trapped up on that little mountain should they decide to come up there. The pickup blocked the driveway, where the big guy stood.
I had ran inside the house to the front door so, I could see better. I stayed out of sight. The big guy began to walk toward the mailbox…
He raised his arm, I saw a bat in his hand. He began beating the mailbox… he didn’t only beat it… he murdered our mailbox. He over-killed it.
He put such violence in every blow…. I felt sick in my stomach because I just knew they had seen me out on the deck when at first… they slid to a stop.
I felt he was murdering the mailbox as if to say… we’re coming up there to get you next! The strange thing is as he struck each blow… I ‘felt’ it in my stomach! I kept thinking that’s how it looks to be murdered… maybe he’s killed someone …before.
I’ve never seen anyone beat something so bad. It seemed like he’d never stop. He did, finally. He walked back to the pickup… bat swinging in his hand. I knew they were coming for me. I was looking around at what to do… where to go!
The pickup began to move… I held my breath, prayed for Skip to please drive up. God please protect me, I prayed.
The pickup accelerated, took off up the highway! Oh, thank-you, God! They didn’t come up the driveway…. I began calling Skip on the cellphone. My voice was shaking so much, he couldn’t understand me.
When he got home, he stopped at the mailbox… I walked down the driveway. There wasn’t any hope for that mailbox… it had died a horrible death.
*** Note by author:
This really happened some years ago, when we lived up on Fairchild’s Mountain. I witnessed something very few people ever see… vandalism of a mailbox.
I’m sure this mailbox suffered more violence than your usual damaged mailboxes. Maybe my happy farm scene pissed someone off… instead of damaging it… the big guy murdered it… I watched.