Could Be Her Time (PT. 3)

twig-switchMerry knew exactly which switch from the tree in her yard she was going to pick.  She had been gone so long, Johnson with his chicken self had probably told her momma already where she had been, so it didn’t make no sense to lie about it.  No, this time, she was going to be a big girl, march into the house with her switch, get her licking and get it over with.

That was her plan, at least, as Merry walked up to her house, fully expecting to see her angry momma standing on the porch waiting to beat her.  Instead, Merry saw something she never dreamed she’d ever see parked in her front yard – the car from up North that she saw earlier in town.  And its handsome military driver, muscular, tall and the color of sweet buttermilk, stood outside on the porch smoking a cigarette.

Merry smiled, excited.  The handsome man smiled back.

“Oh, my.  I’d recognized that pretty smile anywhere.  You must be Merry.”

“Yes, suh.”

“No, no, baby, my daddy’s suh.  I’m Cornelius.  Folks call me Corn.”

“Hi, Mr. Corn.  Do I know you?”

Corn chuckled, exposing a gap in his front teeth large enough for Merry to stick her fist through.

“Straight out just like yo’ momma.  No, you don’t know me, but I know yo’ momma.  Baby Girl, you look just like she spit you out.”

Merry’s heart skipped a beat, then she glanced toward the doorway, remembering her licking.

Army soldier or not, this fine stranger wasn’t going to be able to save her from her momma’s wrath

“Is my Momma inside?”

“Yes, Baby Girl.  She’s been lookin’ for you.”

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