Storymania - Mike and Sadie Mae by Judith Z Marrs

Mike and Sadie Mae
Judith Z Marrs

My name is Michael and I’m gay. My age is between forty and death, I have a head full of brownish gray curly hair, and my warm brown eyes see everything as flippant and ridiculous. For the past two years, I have lived in a small town in Mississippi. Before that, I lived in San Francisco where I spent most of my adult life. When I moved down “heah,” I met Sadie Mae who keeps me constant company on the front porch of her dilapidated, yellow-brick and green-shuttered house. There is not much to do in Walls, Mississippi so we spend most of our time sitting out on the old screened front porch swatting mosquitoes and gossiping. Our conversations center on the neighborhood where we live, Tiny Pines. There is always something happening in Tiny Pines, and we have the best of times rocking in Sadie’s cane rockers as we watch the neighbors. Sadie said we should write a book, so I did.
Sadie Mae is a former lady of the evening, table dancer, observer of life and the best friend I’ve ever had. She says she’s 49, but my guess is closer to 65. She acts like she’s between two and twenty-one. It varies with her moods. She has big, blond hair teased a mile high on top, fake boobs, false blue lashes, pounds of Avon on her face, and she wears huge green plastic loop earrings, the kind you get in a bubble gum machine. Her eyes are crystal clear blues and they can see straight through you. Sadie can spot a fake in an instant. Her complexion is ivory smooth and translucent. Even her Avon cannot conceal the tone of her pigmentation. But she has rosy, red cheeks. Her fingernails are real but appear sculptured, and she always wears blue polish. Why? I don't know. Her figure isn't at all dumpy, in fact with a body suit she could probably still dance at any girlie club in Memphis, but Sadie chooses to stay home and live off her crazy check. I usually refer to Sadie as that psychotic bitch next door. I guess if she were sane, she and I would not have hit it off so well from the beginning of our relationship.
The day I moved in next door to Sadie, she looked at me and said, "There goes the neighborhood!" I looked around me and said, "I hope it does go and never comes back." From that moment on, Sadie and I became porch buddies and formed a bond of us against them, Tiny Piners. She said, "Some of my best friends are gay." "Yeah right," I thought.
I don't know why Sadie thought I was gay, maybe it was the purple gown I was wearing; the one with the high collar that kept getting caught in my beard, or it could have been my silver slippers or my walk or my body language. Sadie didn't care. I think she was just lonely and needed a friendly ear. The two years spent with Sadie have been the best years of my life. Every evening after I get off work at the corner restaurant, Sadie and I sit outside and chat for hours. She always has some new gossip about the neighbors, and I usually have a new horror story about work.
Yes, Sadie and I have had some exciting times watching our intriguing neighbors. The Randalls, who live across the street from us are being investigated by the Desoto County sheriff's department for using landscaping techniques that are not tacky. Yes, their yard looks a little too unique for this neighborhood and this is causing eyebrows to raise. Everyone is questioning if their cow mailbox is fake or if they are just being cruel to animals. We heard that it was all Mrs. Randall's idea. What more can you expect from the woman who grilled Mr. Randall's Elvis suit on the bar-b-que grill last summer? Sadie said that she sat on her porch and watched the white apparel go up in flames, then she hollered over, "What about his guitar?" Immediately, Mrs. Randall ran into the house, grabbed the instrument and cooked it too. We never discovered Mrs. Randall's motive, but it must have been a good one. Mr. Randall now leans up against the gates at Graceland in normal clothes with a despondent expression on his face.
Next door to the Randall's lives a lady whom Sadie and I refer to as the Jehovah freak. Her real name is Sally Cox, and she is a convert of the local Jehovah Witnesses who try to recruit youngsters from Tiny Pines. Sally attempts to win the young people over by playing loud rock music and drinking beer so the youngsters will think she's cool. After the teens have been suckered in, she whisks them off to the Kingdom Hall. Someone questioned Cox about the fact that Jehovahs do not celebrate Christmas, and Sally said that was the reason she became a JW. She said she was tired of spending money on a bunch of no good "suckers" (her family). Sally's daughter, Sarah, said she does not feel neglected even though she gets no Christmas or birthday gifts. Sarah's father is happy that his ex-wife became a JW because now he has an excuse not to ever buy Sarah anything at all, and he can spend his money on more weed and booze and on the stupid “haint” he married.
I really have a nut living next door to me. The other day he called me over and whispered in my ear, "I sure would like to screw you." I was amazed at his bluntness, but he was not my type. I blame myself. I must have enticed him in my lavender gown and matching pill-box sequined hat. All I could think of for a reply was, "Not in this lifetime, Sister." Then I hot-footed it over to Sadie's to tell her the latest. She instantly yelled over to the idiot, "What about me?" Sadie has no morals; that's why I love her. After the guy puked in his yard a few times, Sadie told me the gossip on his family. His name is Terry Wayne and his ex-wife, Zelda, left the pervert and eloped with illiterate Billy Joe Barnum who works with the circus.
There was a bonfire in a yard around the corner the other night. We call this our “Mississippi Burning” story. How it all came about was this family, the Marrs were in hot water with local bigots for sending their son Donnie to an inner-city school in Memphis. Area residents think there are too many people in and out of the Marrs' home all hours of the night and day too. Drug dealing is suspected. Their daughter, Mimi, has suspicious looking characters visiting her as well. She is fifteen and was spotted buying cigarettes at a local grocery store. We believe the son, Donnie, attends the Memphis school so he can be in the best drug-selling arena. The father, Mr. Marrs, is a longhaired hippie, and the mother is posing as a school teacher which is a perfect cover for her. She is being investigated by the Memphis Commercial Appeal. The seven-year-old son, Cheyenne has been seen in various disguises: Power Rangers, WWF Wrestlers, Karate men and Michael Jackson. We believe he is a midget and a member of the Mafia. He has changed schools five times already, and school has only been in session for four weeks. Anyway, someone set a cross on fire in their yard, so we all went out and roasted marshmallows. Sadie's big hair almost went up in flames when a spark flew at her. I put it out with a shovel of mud from the Marrs' ring of dirt where their lopsided above-the-ground pool used to be. Sadie was so mad at me she chased me down the street with a hoe. I yelled back at her that she should know all about hoes and how one was used. Damn that woman, she made me break the high heel off my favorite pair of gold spikes.
One day when I came in from work Sadie was out reading the paper. She was laughing her rear off again. I ventured over to peek at the rag she was reading and saw an advertisement for junk heaps wanted at Jake's Dart Mississippi Motors. Most people in Tiny Pines buy their cars there, and none of them last over a week, if that long. Another ad was for an old sofa someone wanted to put on his front porch. We recognized the telephone number...781-DIRT and knew he was a resident of Tiny Pines. Then there was the phrase; "Anyone interested in joining a real together group or club call 781-OKKK." Had to be a Tiny Piner.
Sadie and I sat a while longer passing the afternoon swatting at flies and dodging wasps when we noticed a group of women gathered by the curb. Sadie looked at me and gave me that look that said, "Let's go see what those old hens are talking about." We headed over to my yard, pretending to rake litter and strained our ears toward the yakkers. From what we could gather, they were up in arms over the latest new residents of Tiny Pines. I have never heard such barking even from the neighborhood strays. Widow Miller said she was scared and ready to sell her house. Old Zenia Wells said she wasn't “lettin no preverts” run her off. The new neighbors that they were raking through the coals were two young girls who had moved into a vacant house close by. They called them the odd couple; one was black and the other white. Emma Lane said if the Lord had meant for all his children to be together, he would have made them all white. Lord help'em. Sho nuf! Sadie Mae and I walked back to the porch disappointed that we hadn't heard some real trash.
"This place is gettin duller and duller," Sadie said.
"Yeah girl, I'm with the old widow, let's move...too quiet around here. I know...let's get out the water hose after those old bags. That ought to liven the place up a bit."
Sadie replied, "Like the time you sprayed cold water in the bathroom window when my grandson Jeremy was taking a shower...you dumb fool."
"Yeah, something like that. Bet he closes that window now
like you told him to ten million times before."
"Don't have to worry about that. He won't even come over here any more. Says I live next door to a screaming, crazy fool fairy."
"Girl, who moved in now?"
"You, you idiot!"
Sadie and I sat a while longer lost in our own idle thoughts. The crowd on the street finally dispersed to their own homes, never settling their dilemma and we watched the teenagers race over speed breakers until one of the idiots lost a tire and ran up into the Jehovah freak's yard. He got out of the low rider cursing the speed breakers. Sadie and I laughed and laughed.
Things were pretty quiet in Tiny Pines for the next few days until more blacks moved in. I parked my car and ran to Sadie's asking why they were having another election, but she told me those weren't campaign signs in everyone’s yards they were "For Sale" signs. I said, "Girlfriend please! Let's go help'em pack." The residents were angry about the new young black couple. They said the two came in from Memphis, so they knew what that meant. Talk around town said they were leaders of a gang, The Trucks. This must be true because they both drive trucks and one of the trucks is a little too clean for this neighborhood. Flyers were deposited in our front doors to be on the alert for a black man and a black woman driving dark-colored trucks with tinted windows; they may be armed and dangerous. Sadie and I decided to be hospitable and took them a jar of giant dill pickles and a bag of hot fries to welcome them to the neighborhood. Doesn't hurt to be neighborly.
We couldn't help but feel sorry for them since they moved in next door to Linda Lou Lice and her foul-smelling parents, Annie Lou and Sammie Lou. Linda Lou put a no smoking sign on her front door to discourage her parents from smoking crack in the living room. Linda Lou was also extremely upset when her parents brought the bar-b-que grill inside to grill hot dogs on the day they celebrated getting qualified for food stamps. But Linda's sign must have worked because now Sammy Lou and Annie Lou smoke their crack outside. Go Linda Lou!
Sadie and I have been noticing a lot of strange teenagers around the neighborhood lately. One is an escapee from a Memphis fish market where she was being held hostage for eating fish at Captain D's. Her name is Liser Marie Bell. Liser's parents own the fish market in question. They said if she couldn’t eat their fish; she can’t eat fish at all. Liser Marie rebelled and put up a sign in the market that read, "This fish sucks!" That really got her in hot lobster water with her parents, and Liser ran away to Tiny Pines. Her picture is on display at every Captain D's in the Mid-South. If you see her, please call 911-FISH.
Sadie and I were told to be on the look out for a youngster named Lyndsey Bell. She was wanted in town for breaking Russell's heart. Russell was her latest flame whom everyone said was a good kid until Lyndsey got hold of him. Rumor has it that Russell was too good to Lyndsey Bell. Sadie and I tried to tell Rus it does not pay to be nice. He believes us now because now Ms. Bell is madly in love with David Dork who treats her like crap. Neighbors say it's Lyndsey Bell's parent's fault that she turned out to be a Jezebel. Her parents, Toenail and Brain, married one day and had two babies the next day. Go Toenail and Brain!
MiMi Bell is the leader of this gang of teenage girls. She created a gang signal hand sign for the group in which she holds two fingers up in a peace sign and puts the other hand in her pocket. Wonder where she got that idea? She disguises herself as a hippie and has small lights glowing all over her bedroom, the gang's hangout. Initiation into the gang is to try and fill the room with 500 teenagers at once, all drinking Kool Aid. These youngsters can be seen sneaking out after midnight and racing to Taco Bell, the gang's namesake. Be on the alert, they will steal your car, cigarettes, CDs, and even your dog. Call 781-BELLS.
Sadie and I actually became acquainted with the Bells and found out they weren't so bad after all. Now and then they hang out at Sadie's and ask us questions about the sixties. I told them I can't remember anything about the sixties, and Sadie told them this proved I was there. One day when the Bells were on the porch with us drinking lemonade we watched the neighborhood boys' gang drive by. The Neighborhood Watch patrol had already alerted us about them. Their names are Donnie, Travis, Brad, Josh, Jason, Juno and Joey. They are disguised as clean-cut American boys. They put up a good front by playing sports: Play Station, Slingo and other forms of normal recreation. But what are they really up to we wonder. Rumor has it that four of the boys have formed a southern classic rock band. We don't know if Travis is a real name or a stage name, but we do know he can be found with a weird straw hat on his head which some say is permanently attached...the hat not the head. Donnie is said to be a drummer when he is not kicking footballs at that inner city school, and someone said he had been spotted playing drums at Hernando's Hide-a-Way. Brad drives a car which he paid $10,000.00 cash for, so we know something's up with him. Josh plays sports in his yard where he deals drugs with the local cops. Josh's mother has two cars...selling drugs pays! Donnie was seen driving a car he bought from Jake, so we know it's broke down by now. Go Jake! Come on guys, we know there are no good kids left; who are you trying to fool? And that music you're making...sounds too good for kids; make it sound more like crap and we'll believe you.
Eventually, the all American boy gang started hanging out at Sadie's too, and they aren't so bad either. One of the guys came running up to us just the other day and told us about a new neighbor whom we refer to as Green Thumb. Green Thumb's front yard is "All That," but his side yard may be his downfall. This is where he parks an old truck heaped up on concrete blocks with a sign in the back window that reads “4 Sale.” Green Thumb is also under surveillance because he has a white German shepherd that wears a red bandanna; a sure sign of gang activity...don't laugh...dog gangs are on the rise. We just never thought it would happen in Tiny Pines. Green Thumb's dog is a white male, hard to believe but true, so beware. One day we saw the white dog trotting down the side walk in front of Sadie's house when suddenly he started this high pitched yelping and gyrating his limbs in all directions, jumping up in the air, biting at the wind and howling. Then as quick as he started, he quit, got back to normal and ran on off. A few minutes later we saw Green Thumb following the dog's trail. Then we saw Green Thumb press a button on some apparatus he was holding in his hand and heard the dog having another fit on the next block. We then told him his dog had been by earlier. He said he would find him with his little radar electrical charger he was carrying. The Bells, the Guys, and Sadie and I laughed our rears off later as we recalled the story of the white dog and Green Thumb. You had to be there.
Yes, Sadie and I get a kick out of watching the neighbors. It's better than the soaps. We have been having some interesting conversations with a new neighbor who teaches at the school in Memphis where Donnie attends. We refer to her as "desperate for a job". We shortened that to Dizzy. Dizzy leaves for school appearing the stereotyped neat and proper school marm, but when she gets home her recently turned white hair is standing straight up, her face is flushed, and she rushes to her kitchen and grabs a valium. Lately she's been coming to the porch with a stiff drink in her hand. The stories she tells make Sadie and I glad we are worthless, and shiftless in the field of employment. Dizzy was angry one day because the kids started smoking dope outside her classroom window. When she told the principal this was causing a disruption in her classroom, he told her to pull down the shades. Sadie and I told her she was just mad because they weren't sharing their dope with her. We're trying to loosen Dizzy up, so she won't take everything so seriously. Like, if the principal doesn't care, why should she? I told her I would come over to the school and straighten the little brats out, but she looked at my new gold slippers and rolled her eyes.
Things were getting too quiet again on our street, so Sadie and I took a stroll around the block. This was a rare occasion for Sadie to get her lazy rear end off the porch. She said she wanted to start jogging and try to get herself in shape like Tina Turner. I told her she better start jogging in my four inch heels if she wants to look like Tina. Sadie told me where I could put my four-inch heels. I said it works for Tina, but Sadie said she wasn't Tina, four-inch-high-heels, Turner. I told her she didn't have to get so belligerent about it and that she needed anger management counseling, then we continued our walk while she told me I was pushing limits with her.
We passed one house where there must have been a convention for Cameros going on; there were five of them lined up across the front yard. Then we dodged a couple of go-carts on the sidewalk and stepped in four piles of animal feces before deciding to get back to our own turf. We finally reached Sadie's porch and plopped down in our comfortable chairs. A few minutes later the Cameros sped by, so I guess the convention was over.
The night was getting cooler as we sat watching the stars. Some of the Bells drove by and gave us the peace sign. Behind them came the All Americans driving a 1974 Volkswagen hippie van loaded with sound equipment. I guess they had finally gotten a gig somewhere or either they were just driving around trying to look like real musicians. The Bells circled around the block several times, leading the All Americans on a wild goose chase that ended up in Sadie's drive-way. Mimi Bell got out of her GEO Tracker and joined us along with Liser Bell and Lyndsey Bell. Mimi Bell was angry at Liser Bell's boyfriend, Kevin, who had just become a Jesus freak and was telling Mimi that all Catholics are sinners and going to hell. Mimi Bell, a Catholic, said Kevin had started speaking in tongues and now thinks he is God himself. I jumped up and shouted, "Praise the Lord, Hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!" They all looked at me and rolled their eyes, so I sat back down. Then I went in for refreshments and asked anyone if they would like to have Communion. I found a bottle of red Sangria and offered it to the Bells, but Sadie said I was dumber than crap because they weren't old enough to drink. Mimi said that was another thing Kevin was preaching about to her; Catholics drinking real wine at Mass. He said Catholics think they can do anything they want and that they will still go to Heaven. I said, "Take me to the priest...I'm converted!" Sadie kicked me with her pointed heels and Dizzy said, "I'm with him." Mimi Bell wanted us to tell her a come-back for Kevin the next day at school, but all I could think to tell her was to tell him to go to hell. Sadie said that was not a good idea, but I said that Kevin had already told Mimi Bell she was going to hell so it's pay back time. Liser Bell started crying because she was so sick of the whole thing. Kevin now thinks it's a sin to dance, so she has no date for the prom. Lyndsey Bell told her to shut the hell up and stop her constant whining and to go to the prom with a Catholic. Mimi Bell looked at Lyndsey Bell and told her Liser Bell only knew one Catholic, her, and that she sure as hell wasn't taking her fish eating self to the prom. They finally left us to go do homework and call up Kevin and hang up on him several times.
Sadie and I laughed about what it was like when we were young after they left, and Dizzy surprised us both when she took a rolling paper from her purse and began to construct a fat joint. I told her I was glad she waited for the kids to leave, and she said, "Where do you think I got this stuff?"