Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2008-08-09 01:58 am
ikissdhimbck) wrote2008-08-09 01:58 am
Entry tags:
Errands in Green Lake, Part Two
As Katherine rounded the corner onto Broadway, nose still buried in her book, Sam the onion picker was pulling his cart out from Joe Crocker's place not three feet from her.
"Whoa, Miss Katherine!" he called.
Startled, Katherine jumped at the sound of his voice, book flying out of her hands with a loud flapping of pages.
That's the second time today!
Sam gently grabbed her by the elbow to steady her, but the book flopped unhappily to the ground.
"Oh...Sam," Katherine exclaimed, blinking when she realized who she had almost run right into. She had met Sam a few weeks back. He was a pleasant young man and Katherine had bought a whole dozen onions from him, not because she needed them, but simply because she had enjoyed their encounter. "I'm terribly sorry!"
"Weren't nothin'," he grinned in reply. After a time he let go of her arms and moved back to the reins of his cart mule.
Her gaze settled on his deep, ebony eyes, the way they usually did, because it was hard for her not to get lost in them. "You're coming from Joe Collingwood's?" she asked with a small smile. "Supplying him with his weekly order of hair growth serum?"
Sam ducked his head and laughed. "Now Miss Katherine, ain't polite conversation, what I supply to the townsfolk. But onions are mighty powerful good for stimulatin' hair growth, you know."
Katherine laughs. "I know, Sam."
Katherine isn't sure if Sam has a last name. He wandered into Green Lake one day, long before she herself had moved in, carting along his "magical" sweet onions. When she had met him he had insisted, with his usual patient smile, that she call him Sam. No "Mister" this, or "Samuel" that. Just Sam. He was a simple man and had no use for formalities.
Heads turned when he came to Green Lake. The town was generally affable, and more than welcoming to outside folk, but Sam stuck out like a sore thumb--seeing that he was the only black man for a fifty-mile radius who wasn't working as "hired help" for some rich rancher or another. There were those in town who would skirt around him, others who would blatantly stick their nose up at him, still others who would stare until he left the area. Sam didn't mind them folk too much, though, because mostly the town was good to him. If it wasn't, he would have packed up and moved on. It was his way of things.
"They're also good for the complexion, the eyes, the brain," he listed off a few things with a smile. He made a pretty good living, peddling his onions. He would make tonics and elixirs and pastes and god knows what else, each for a different purpose. This was good for arthritis, that was good for warts. According to Sam, onions were a cure for just about anything. "But woman like you, don't need much help with those things."
"Thank you, Sam," Katherine smiled, accepting the compliment. "But I actually could use a dozen onions for a few meals, if you can spare them. And a few extra for Mary Lou," she said, reaching out and stroking the donkey's rough neck.
"Mary Lou appreciates that, Miss Katherine," Sam said, handing her a dozen onions, plus an additional three, in exchange for a dime. "You always buy a bit extra for her." His smile was bright with approval; Sam cherished his mule the way one might a dear and close friend.
"She's a sweetie," Katherine replied, letting the donkey eat the onions from her hand. She laughed when the big, pink tongue licked at her palm.
"Y'got big plans for the town picnic?" Sam asked with a knowing smile.
"Just the usual," she smiled back. "Oh, but I have company coming in for a visit," she amended as she suddenly recalled her plans. "A Friend. Fellow teacher, actually."
Sam nodded. "Sounds nice."
"Oh, it will be," Katherine said with a smile.
"You let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Miss Katherine. Me and Mary Lou, we're always around town 'bout this time, and you're welcome to anything y'might need from my cart."
"Thank you, Sam. That's very kind," Katherine replied, genuinely touched.
As he led Mary Lou along, back down Broadway, Katherine watched after him. It wasn't until he was quite a ways away she remembered the book at her feet. She knelt down, picking up the richly bound book of poetry, frowning at the dirty page or two that came up off the ground. She wiped at them carefully, hoping none of the notes in the margins would be obscured.
The poem the book had opened to was Poe's El Dorado.
.
"Whoa, Miss Katherine!" he called.
Startled, Katherine jumped at the sound of his voice, book flying out of her hands with a loud flapping of pages.
That's the second time today!
Sam gently grabbed her by the elbow to steady her, but the book flopped unhappily to the ground.
"Oh...Sam," Katherine exclaimed, blinking when she realized who she had almost run right into. She had met Sam a few weeks back. He was a pleasant young man and Katherine had bought a whole dozen onions from him, not because she needed them, but simply because she had enjoyed their encounter. "I'm terribly sorry!"
"Weren't nothin'," he grinned in reply. After a time he let go of her arms and moved back to the reins of his cart mule.
Her gaze settled on his deep, ebony eyes, the way they usually did, because it was hard for her not to get lost in them. "You're coming from Joe Collingwood's?" she asked with a small smile. "Supplying him with his weekly order of hair growth serum?"
Sam ducked his head and laughed. "Now Miss Katherine, ain't polite conversation, what I supply to the townsfolk. But onions are mighty powerful good for stimulatin' hair growth, you know."
Katherine laughs. "I know, Sam."
Katherine isn't sure if Sam has a last name. He wandered into Green Lake one day, long before she herself had moved in, carting along his "magical" sweet onions. When she had met him he had insisted, with his usual patient smile, that she call him Sam. No "Mister" this, or "Samuel" that. Just Sam. He was a simple man and had no use for formalities.
Heads turned when he came to Green Lake. The town was generally affable, and more than welcoming to outside folk, but Sam stuck out like a sore thumb--seeing that he was the only black man for a fifty-mile radius who wasn't working as "hired help" for some rich rancher or another. There were those in town who would skirt around him, others who would blatantly stick their nose up at him, still others who would stare until he left the area. Sam didn't mind them folk too much, though, because mostly the town was good to him. If it wasn't, he would have packed up and moved on. It was his way of things.
"They're also good for the complexion, the eyes, the brain," he listed off a few things with a smile. He made a pretty good living, peddling his onions. He would make tonics and elixirs and pastes and god knows what else, each for a different purpose. This was good for arthritis, that was good for warts. According to Sam, onions were a cure for just about anything. "But woman like you, don't need much help with those things."
"Thank you, Sam," Katherine smiled, accepting the compliment. "But I actually could use a dozen onions for a few meals, if you can spare them. And a few extra for Mary Lou," she said, reaching out and stroking the donkey's rough neck.
"Mary Lou appreciates that, Miss Katherine," Sam said, handing her a dozen onions, plus an additional three, in exchange for a dime. "You always buy a bit extra for her." His smile was bright with approval; Sam cherished his mule the way one might a dear and close friend.
"She's a sweetie," Katherine replied, letting the donkey eat the onions from her hand. She laughed when the big, pink tongue licked at her palm.
"Y'got big plans for the town picnic?" Sam asked with a knowing smile.
"Just the usual," she smiled back. "Oh, but I have company coming in for a visit," she amended as she suddenly recalled her plans. "A Friend. Fellow teacher, actually."
Sam nodded. "Sounds nice."
"Oh, it will be," Katherine said with a smile.
"You let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Miss Katherine. Me and Mary Lou, we're always around town 'bout this time, and you're welcome to anything y'might need from my cart."
"Thank you, Sam. That's very kind," Katherine replied, genuinely touched.
As he led Mary Lou along, back down Broadway, Katherine watched after him. It wasn't until he was quite a ways away she remembered the book at her feet. She knelt down, picking up the richly bound book of poetry, frowning at the dirty page or two that came up off the ground. She wiped at them carefully, hoping none of the notes in the margins would be obscured.
The poem the book had opened to was Poe's El Dorado.
.