Jo Pearcy
Come along to the Missouri Ozarks!
This is a book that can be enjoyed by both young and old alike.
It's living in a rural area with clear streams made for floating and
fishing, heavily wooded hills hiding fantastic caves, woodland
creatures from the white-tail deer to the wily raccoon, and the
hoot of the owls to lull you to sleep.
But when young Bill's parents separate and he comes to this
place with his mother, he feels nothing but sadness and
loneliness. Then, through an accident, he meets two young
hillfolk who show him the secrets and wonders of the Ozarks
and teach him what true happiness is. Billy's life, both at school
and at home, changes, but there are secrets he must keep.
Though the "Hillfolk" and some of their superstitions come from
Ozark folklore, the adventures of the boys could be enjoyed by
anyone today. The setting is here!
Jo Pearcy has lived in the Missouri Ozarks for the past thiry-six
years. Her love of the natural beauty of the hills, its inhabitants
and folklore is evident in her work. Her home is on the bank of
the Elk River just a mile downstream from the junction of Big
Sugar Creek and Little Sugar Creek. Her story ideas are all
around her.
Jo's other loves are her four children, their families, and a
multitude of former school students. It was for them she began
her story-telling career. After retirement from public schools,
she is still in demand to tell stories to students of all ages.
Now she is writing some of her stories to share with children,
both young and old, everywhere.
Billy had been eyeing the small trees in the fencerow with all the
little round green fruit ever since he came home. Rufe had told
him they were persimmon trees, but Billy had never seen or
heard of persimmons. Those little round balls had gradually
turned bright orange. Now two of the trees were beautifully
decorated with masses of orange fruit. Oddly enough, the
squirrels and raccoons had not touched them yet. Even the
groundhogs had left them alone to ripen and hang thick in the
trees.
As Billy worked in the garden, pulling the dead okra stalks and
cleaning out the bean rows, he approached the fence. He stood
in the shade of a persimmon tree, wiping the sweat off his face
with a big cowboy handkerchief. "Man, it's hot out here," he
said to no one in particular.
Looking up, he saw that he could almost reach a limb full of
persimmons. He stuffed the hanky back in his jeans pocket.
Then, backing up a little and jumping up, he grabbed the end of
the branch. He pulled it down and followed it up far enough to
pick two of the shiny, smooth persimmons. "They look good,"
he said to himself. "I wonder what they taste like." He lifted the
fruit to his mouth, then lowered it and looked at it again. "It
must be ripe. The skin is smooth like an apple, and it has turned
from green to bright orange. Thad said they don't eat them till
they turn orange." He took a bite and began to chew.
"Thewweeee!" He quickly spat it out. "Whath Happnin'?"
Billy's mouth puckered up until he could hardly talk. He felt his
lips drawing into an "O" shape and his tongue puckering up like
a washboard. Grabbing his mouth with his hands, he high-tailed
it to the creek. Running all the way, Billy made a dash for the
bank and jumped into the cooling water, shoes and all! He
opened his mouth, gargling up Sugar Creek as he swam.
"Hey, big buddy," came a familiar voice. "What's goin' on?"
Billy turned around to see Rufe on the bank. He splashed his
way back to his old friend. With tears in his frightened eyes,
Billy pointed to his mouth. "I think I poisoned myself." The
voice that came out didn't sound like Billy.
Rufe looked closely at his friend. Then he began to smile as he
noticed the puckered mouth. "Hey, man," he said softly.
"Have yuh been eatin' persimmons?"
Billy nodded his head sadly.
Then Rufe's grin spread from ear to ear. "Yuh ain't poisoned,
Bill. That's jist the way green persimmons do yuh. It'll go way
in a little while."
"But it wasn't green," Billy spoke through the puckered lips. "It
was orange."
"True, Bill, true", agreed Rufe. "But them 'simmons are peculiar
fruits. They don't get so's yuh kin eat 'em 'til after frost. When
they turn kinda brownish and git all wrinkly, they're good eatin'.
"
"I didn't know that." Bill's mouth was beginning to lose it's
numb, puckery feeling. "It feels yucky! I never felt anything
like that before."
Rufe laughed. "I reckon there ain't nothin' that feels like that.
But it goes away and don't really cause no harm."
Billy's fright dissolved at Rufe's reassuring words. He ran his
tongue around his lips beginning to feel almost normal again.
He savored the still-weird feeling in his mouth and laughed. "I'd
never have known what they could do to you if I hadn't taken
that bite."
Rufe laughed, too. "That's fer sure, good buddy. There jist ain't
no words to describe that feeling. I've done it, too. It's
downright scary."
Billy crawled out of the water onto the creek bank. He stood
there dripping, shaking off water like a wet hound dog. "Yeah,
and it's for sure I'll never try it again! How can anything that
looks so good play a mean trick like that?"
"Like what?" Thad suddenly appeared, landing beside Billy.
Rufe explained. "Bill jist got his first taste of a purty orange
'simmon."
"Yikes!" Thad puckered up his lips and made a sour face. "Yuh
shoulda had yer girlfriend with yuh. Yuh'da been puckered jist
right to play kissie face!" He danced around making kissing
noises and silly faces until Billy and Rufus rolled on the ground
laughing.
