Chapter 1
The howling wind outside the old barn muffled the wailing screams from inside the weathered farmhouse. Five year old Leroy inched closer to his papa and snuggled deeper into the blanket of hay. Unnoticed in the dim light of the lantern, a rodent scurried across the floor in front of twelve-year-old Puddin just as she declared, “When can we go back in the house, papa? I’m cold as a frog’s behind! How long has we been out here in this old barn anyway? I’ll bet I’m blue from freezing and this damn hay is sticking me bad. It’s even in my britches!” ”
“Maybe we kin go back in the house soon, Puddin. We’ll jest have to wait till mama gets the new baby and then we’ll be all warm and cozy inside. Here, scoot closer to me,” Albert Thorpmorten suggested to his twelve year old daughter. Albert reached inside his well worn jacket and retrieved the old watch from the pocket in the bib of his overalls. Holding it close to his face, in the dim light of the lantern he studied the hands of the watch for a moment. “Well, happy new year, younguns. It’s twenty minutes after midnight, so nineteen hundred and thirteen is here!” At the same moment Albert made this announcement, the screams in the farmhouse ceased.
With lantern in hand, Eliza Whitworth left the warmth of the kitchen and headed toward the barn, pushing hard against the wind. With one hand she held the faded bonnet on her head and in the other she carried a small lantern. Halfway to her destination, the light flickered and was gone, plunging the old midwife into total darkness. “Oh Lawdy, it’s darker than death out here,” she moaned as she moved forward at a slow, cautious pace. As she neared the structure, she could hear voices from within.
“Albert, open the door. I ain’t got an extry hand,” Eliza called out.
Once inside, the light of the lanterns cast soft shadows across the group of children huddled close together in a bed of hay. “I reckon we got another Thorpmorten,” Albert declared. “What’d we get, Eliza?”
The frail looking woman sat the lantern on a barrel. Putting her hands over her mouth, she blew her warm breath on her trembling fingers. Albert waited patiently for her announcement, but Puddin’s patience quickly played out. “Well, what’d we get? Is it a girl? Mama said she thought fer sure this one wuz a girl.”
Her hands still cupped over her mouth, Eliza answered, “Fraid not, Puddin. Didn’t get no girl.”
“Got me another boy,” Albert boasted. “Can’t have too many boys on a farm. Takes a heap of work to keep a place a going.”
“We got plenty of boys and only two girls,” Puddin complained. “I ain’t have gonna have nothin’ to do with it.”
A smile crept across Eliza’s face. She had purposely waited to reveal her big secret and now she felt the time was right. “Ain’t a boy,” she declared, shifting her body to lean against the wooden barrel.
“Did mama have a litter of pups like ole Sally did?” five year old Leroy inquired. The child’s innocent statement brought giggles from the children until they noticed the frown that had crossed their father’s face.
“Is Imogene okay. Is the baby okay?” Albert asked.
“They fine, all three of them,” Eliza replied, once again prolonging the announcement.
“Three?” Albert’s expression of worry and concern changed to confusion.
“Yep all three. Imogene’s jest fine and you got yoreself two boys, Albert!”
After a stunned moment of silence, Albert raised his hands above his head and clapped them together loudly. “Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Twin boys! Now ain’t that something!” The children left their bed of hay and gathered around their father, excited at the news. The only one that hung back was Puddin. She had prayed the baby would be a girl. Sucking her lips into a tight, almost invisible line, she stood to herself. Damn!the child thought, as she watched her siblings excitement. Noticing that Puddin stood apart from the family, a sullen expression on her face, Albert smiled at his daughter and said, “Come on, Puddin.. We got something special. Twin boys! That ain’t an everday happening.”
“That ain’t the best part. The thang that’s so special is they look jest alike. You can’t tell one of them from the other,” Eliza stated, then added, “I don’t recollect this ever happening in Lick Skilled afore.
“Ain’t we the lucky ones, papa!” seventeen year old Tic, the oldest child, exclaimed.
“What say we all head to the house and get a look at them little fellows. Mama might let us hold em. Puddin, wouldn’t you like to hold one of them brand new babies? Why I’ll bet you she’ll lets you be first,” Albert suggested, hopeful for a change in his daughter’s attitude.
“I wouldn’t piss on em if they wuz on fire,” Puddin declared and stomped out into the night.
Eliza turned quickly to face the door Puddin had just disappeared through. “Martha Belle Thorpmorten, if’n you wuz mine I’d take a hickory to you fer saying that!” The old woman turned back to face the man. “I’m telling you, Albert, if you don’t put a heavy foot down on that gal, you gonna be mighty sorry. She’s has a worse mouth than any boy I ever heard and she ain’t but twelve years old. She’s gonna cause you pure misery.”
“I know, Eliza. Me and Imogene doing our best to stop it. Reckon we let her get away with jest about anything after she got that snake bite and nearly died two years ago.”
“Well, she’s over that snake bite now. I’d whup her hard if’n she wuz mine and then I’d wash her mouth out with soap!”
The first one to reach the house was Puddin. She hurried to the fireplace and rubbed her hands together close to the churning fire. Albert, Eliza and the others followed close behind. “Take yore coats off, younguns and be quiet. Mama’s tired and we don’t want to bother her.” Albert noticed his daughter, Tullie sitting on the bench at the kitchen table. She smiled at her father, but he saw the exhaustion on her face.
“I’m proud of you, Tullie. You’ve growed up tonight and this whole family is obliging to you fer helping Eliza,” Albert spoke softly to his oldest daughter. “Go on up in the loft and get some sleep.”
“I am tired, papa, but it was mama who done all the work.”
“Albert, you and the kids go on in to see them babies and Imogene, but if they sleeping, don’t none of you dare to wake ‘em.. Once you seen ‘em, I’m gonna make a pallet in there and lay down fer a spell. I’m plum give out,” Eliza bluntly stated.
“I’ll get Tic to fix ya a pallet, Eliza. I know you must be done in,” Albert informed the old woman. “He’ll give ya a ride home in the wagon in the morning. I’m gonna send him over to get Granny Cobb and he kin drop you off on his way. She’s gonna stay with us fer a couple of weeks, till Imogene gets back on her feet.”
At the mention of Granny Cobb’s name, Puddin frowned and looked up at her father. “Mama ain’t gonna like that, papa. She said she don’t want Granny Cobb here fer two weeks. Says she’s too fussy bout housework and always finding fault with her. She wants Aunt Ollie to come stay with us.” Albert looked at his daughter, her face still as sullen as when she had stormed out of the barn.
“Well, we’re getting Granny Cobb. She knows more how to tend all you kids and them new little ones. Aunt Ollie’s too prissy and she don’t know squat about babies,” Albert said sternly to his young, impudent daughter. Puddin turned her back to her father, rubbed her hands together in front of the fire, and announced she was going up to bed.
“Ain’t you goin’ in and see you mama and them babies?”
“Nope. I done near froze to death cause of them babies. I reckon I’ll see enough of them fore I’m old enough to leave home.” Albert watched his daughter climb the ladder to room in the attic she shared with her sister and brothers. Eliza twisted her mouth in a look of disdain for the girl. Moving her hand slightly from her side, she swatted the air. If you wuz mine, my hand would a met yore behind.
News spreads fast in the Chattahooche Valley and by early afternoon, neighbors were arriving from all directions to see the miracle at the Thorpmorten farm. The first visitor to arrive was Imogene’s older brother, Ezra Swindle, the self proclaimed prophet and preacher of the community. Ezra was a tall, muscular man with a crop of black hair that hung loosely, almost reaching his shoulders. His eyes, one blue, one brown, and his deep, booming voice seemed to instill awe and fear in the inhabitants of the community.
As the first visitor, he had seemed moderately enthused about his new nephews. As other neighbors began to arrive to view, what had been dubbed the ‘miracle babies’, Ezra’s enthusiasm seemed to grow as with each wagon of visitors, gifts were bestowed to the family. There were jars of peaches canned by some during the long, hot summer months, several hams taken from smoke houses, freshly baked pies from dried apples and peaches, an almost new hammer and tin can of nails, a pile of small quilts now unused by their families, pouches of chewing tobacco, even a cow and a small pig. The list went on. Several men with whiskey stills hidden deep in the woods furnished several jugs of moonshine for the new papa. As Ezra watched the family happily accept each prized gift, his sermon for the next Sunday morning began to form in his mind.
At twilight when the last wagon of neighbors left the farm, only Ezra’s buggy remained. Albert and the boys were busy in the barn with the evening chores. Granny Cobb enlisted Tullie and Puddin to help her in the kitchen, leaving Ezra time alone with his sister.
“But Ezra, them babies won’t be but a week old come next Sunday, and I’ll be laid up fer two or three weeks,” Imogene weakly protested.
“I tell you, Imogene, the Lawd has spoke to me this day. He done told me them chilluns gotta be in his house this Sunday. They’s a special blessing he done give you and you don’t want to anger him.”
“No, the last thang I wanna do is anger the Lawd. I reckon Albert can fix us up a bed in the wagon. It’s jest so cold. I hope me and them babies don’t die of pneumonia.”
“The Lawd wouldn’t give me this message if any harm would come to you or them babes,” Ezra declared. When the prophet left the farm a few minutes later, he pushed his horse hard eager to get home and began planning his sermon.
Ezra spread the word throughout the community that all must attend services the following Sunday. He declared to everyone he saw, “No matter the weather, all must come. I’ve had a secret and now the Lawd has told me to reveal it to one and all!” Twice during the week, he visited his sister and her family. The gifts the Thorpmorten family received seemed of more interest to him than his sister and the twins.
Chapter 2
One week after the twins made their grand entrance into the valley, the small wooden structure that served as a school and Prophet Ezra’s church overflowed with the good people of Chattahoochee. Last to arrive was the Thorpmorten family. Albert gently carried Imogene into the building and down the isle to the front. A comfortable chair had been placed there for the honored mother. Tic carried one twin and Tullie the other. Ezra instructed them to stand on either side of their mother. Once the family was in place, Ezra stood before the congregation. Tilting his face upward, his eyes starred at the ceiling of the church. He took long, deep breaths as those gathered watched in complete silence wondering if he was at that moment hearing the Lord. Finally he cleared his throat, closed his eyes and strange words poured from his mouth. After a moment or two, he smiled at the people and began to speak in a known tongue.
“As all you good folk knows, my dear sister Imogene and her husband, Albert, wuz blessed this past week with the birth of identical twin boys. It’s a true miracle. I attest to that.” Before Ezra could continue, an old woman sitting in a front pew struggled to her feet.
“Scuse me fer buttin’ in, Prophet Ezra, but I’d like to put my two cents in bout the miracle.” Ezra looked directly at Granny Hargrove, the oldest resident in the community. Ezra smiled at the old woman and she continued. ““I am 102 years old and I ain’t never lived no wheres else, and to my recollection, we ain’t never had no babies born in Lick Skillet at the same time that looks jest alike. So I believe we got a miracle here in our midst and it’s them babies right over thar.” Granny Harrison stretched her arm its full length and pointed a thin, misshaped index finger directly at the twins. She turned her gaze back on the prophet. “Thanky prophet. That’s all I got to say.”
“Dear Sister Hargrove has testified that in her 102 years on this earth, and I remind you folks, she ain’t lived nowhere but here in Lick Skillet, there ain’t never been no two younguns born that looked jest alike. Ain’t nobody more respected than Sister Hargrove, so we take her testimony as fact.” Ezra’s declaration was followed by amens shouted through out the congregation. The prophet cleared his throat once again, and the crowd grew quiet as the man readied to continue his revelation to his congregation.
“Last Sunday when these here twin boys wuz born, I made know I’d had a secret, but the Lawd has instructed me to reveal it. That’s what I aim to do right here and right now.” He paused, giving those crowded into the small building time to digest the importance of his words. The quietness of the room was deafening. When Ezra was satisfied he had the undivided attention of everyone, he continued.
“When my sister, Imogene, told me they wuz gonna be another little Thorpmorten, the Lawd spoke to me. He said I should pray every night at eleven o’clock for the unborn youngun. I couldn’t rightly figure out His reasoning, but I did jest as I wuz told to. I reckon he’s jest seeing how obedient I wuz. Anyways, I done jest what he said to do and ever night at eleven o’clock I’d pray. Well, when I heard Imogene had twin boys, it come to me and made perfect sense why the Lawd told me to pray at eleven o’clock.” Ezra paused looking from face to face of those listening. On each he saw the look of confusion, reassuring him to continue.
“If you stop and think about it, when you write the number eleven, it’s jest two ones, so I know with no doubt in my mind that my praying ever night at eleven is the reason they wuz two chilluns born and not jest one.” Again, Ezra waited for the reaction to his words.The congregation was completely silent Finally, Joab Franklin stood up and shouted a halleluiah, followed by more halleluiahs by a now highly excited group of congregates. Ezra’s wife seemed to be the only person present that wasn’t on her feet shouting and dancing. She sat quietly thinking Well, he either snores whilst he pray, or prays whist he snores. Thank heavens the Lawd didn’t tell him to pray at nine o’clock.
Waiting until the noise and excitement subsided, Ezra continued. “Now that I’ve revealed this revelation, I feel the need to stress the importance of treating these little babies with the respect any miracle deserves. They is special and needs to be treated special all they lives. Now least we offend them special children, all that are kinfolk to them must be treated special, for they all have the same blood running through their veins. Anyways you can think of to be special to this group of people, not jest them children but all they kinfolks, will be looked on favorably by the Lawd on high.” Ezra hesitated for a moment, looking around the room at the congregation. Each person kept their silence and waited for their prophet to continue. “I ‘spect that might bring questions to yore minds. You might ask yourself, ‘how can I be special toward these boys and all they kinfolks?’ Each time Ezra spoke, he emphasized ‘all their kinfolks.’ Well, that’s gotta come from your hearts, however, jest as examples I would say always have a smile for them, throw up your hand in a greeting, help them when they need help, any nice gifts or food. Now mind you, these are jest suggestions. If your hearts tells you something else, like maybe cash money, you listen to yore heart.” Clearing his throat, Ezra made one last statement before opening the hymnal. “I’ve been speaking as your prophet, but as the uncle of them two special babies whose same blood runs through my veins, I jest want to say I’m mighty proud to be they kinfolk. We gonna have these twin boys papa hold them up in jest a minute and he’s gonna tell us what names they been given. But right now, let’s stand up and sang hymn number 22, Christian Men Arise and Give.”
With the singing completed, Albert gently took the twins from the arms of their siblings and moved to stand beside the prophet. Holding them to face the congregation, women clasped their hands over their chests and smiles crossed the faces of the men.
“Now, don’t both them younguns look jest like angels?” Ezra asked the crowd.
They do when they sleeping, Puddin thought,
“Right now, I’m gonna ask the proud papa to tell us all they names.,” Ezra spoke, turning slightly to face his brother-in-law.
Albert hesitated for a moment, staring out at the people waiting anxiously to hear the names of the miracle babies. He started to speak, but couldn’t seem to put his thoughts into words.. Finally he found his voice. “All you folks know me, least wise most of you, and you know I ain’t much fer speaking to a crowd. But Prophet Ezra felt I should do this, so that’s what I’m a doin’.” Albert gulped a deep breath and continued.
The boy in this here blue blanket we’ve named Darby Moses, and the one in the brown blanket is named Derby Moses. We thought Moses wuz a fittin’ middle name fer both of ‘em, since Moses in the Bible was put in a basket by his mama and set to float in the river and he was found in the bull rushes. These here boys wuz born near a river and we got a plenty of cattails along the bank.” Albert considered his discourse ended and stood silently before the congregation. Ezra placed his hands on the infant’s heads, closed his eyes and mumbled a few words.
“Let us all stand up and shout a welcome to our newest members, Darby Moses and Derby Moses Thorpmorten. Then we’ll sang one more stanza of Christian Men Arise and Give and then we’ll all be dismissed.”
Puddin stood at the front of the small church with her family. She stood first on one foot, then on the other, each time shoving against her sister Tullie. Ugliest names I ever heard. Why would anybody give them both the same middle name? Puddin’s a lot better name. She stared into the face of ten year old Freddie Pickle, the son of their closest neighbor. He puckered his lips, opened them slightly, and stuck out his tongue. Puddin’s arms hung at her sides, but one hand closed in a fist. Just you wait till we get outside, you red headed, freckled old dill pickle, she thought, as Tullie pinched her side.
It’s a well known fact every small southern town or community has now or has had in the past, local characters that lie beyond their commonly accepted bounds. In the community of Lick Skillet, on the banks of the Chattahoochee River, three such characters emerged in the form of a self-proclaimed prophet and identical twin boys with the same middle name.
