Lewis and Lula Mae

Lewis limped into the house holding onto one overall strap with his good hand. That way it wouldn’t hit him in the belly when he walked.  He eased into his warped recliner.

“Lula Mae!” He called, with his eyes closed. “Will you get me that remote?” He gestured toward the coffee table as if she were right  there in the room with him.

“What? I am trying to do laundry if you don’t mind! I’ve still got three loads…” She came in, shuffling in blue house shoes and waving a sock in the air.

“If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times that I am not going to turn your socks right side out. They smell just like poke salad and you know I can’t stand to smell poke salad….”

“Will you get me the remote?”

“Did you hear me about the socks?”

“Yea, I heard you. Did you hear me about the smoking?”

He rubbed the top of his head, which was round and shiny as a babies butt, and sighed. “Gotta head ache since this morning.”

“If I had a head like that and it didn’t hurt, I would go to the doctor.” Lula Mae said, and did an old lady spin back toward the utility room.

“Humph!” Lewis said. “You liked this head pretty well at one time if  memory serves me. And I meant it about smoking.”

Lula Mae poked her head out of the kitchen. “That was back when your head still had hair on it, and I think you’re pretty long in the tooth for that kind of talk anyway. Hand me those socks.”

Lewis stuck one denim leg into the air and stripped the sock off, grunting. “That creek was muddy this morning. Couldn’t see the bottom in the shallow.” He tossed the socks onto the floor. “There’s two cat in that Crimson Tide cooler out there on the cistern.”

“I ain’t cleaning no fish today. I have better things to do than cook something I can’t eat.” Lula Mae said, as she picked up the socks and turned them right side out.

“I smell the smoke, Lula.”

“You don’t smell anything. I smoke on the porch, and besides, I only had two today.”

“What? Two packs? That’s gonna get you. Gonna bring you down.”

“Like living with you ain’t?  Lord, please don’t let me suffer long.  “Don’t let it last. Take me now.” She prayed out loud.

“Lord love a duck.” Lewis said. “I ain’t got that remote yet.” He grumbled, “Is that white beans I saw cooking on the stove?”

No answer, so Lewis slept for a while.

“Lewis, I am going out on the porch to smoke, I don’t care how bad you fuss.” Lula Mae said, after the white beans and corn bread.

“Kill yourself if you want to.”

”I’m seventy four, how much longer do I need to last?” Lula Mae asked from the doorway.”

“Long enough to hand me that remote, anyway.”

“You keep me a nervous wreck, you know that, Lewis?” She blew a puff of smoke into the doorway, on purpose.

“You liked me well enough when we stood on the railroad tracks and got married.”

“Yea, and what kind of place is that to get married? I wouldn’t tell that to a soul if everybody didn’t already know it.”

“We had to hurry up if I remember right.”

“And just who’s fault was that?”

“Ours.” Lewis said.

“Yours, you old reprobate. You’re the one begging and groveling till I finally give in. And look where it got me. Wrong side out socks and fish in an Alabama cooler. Not even cleaned either.”

“Well, you got Elvadene out of the deal.”

“Yea, and nothing but worry out of her for the whole fifty years she’s been on this earth. She came out backwards and she’s stayed that way. Lord, Lord.” Lula Mae came back in and settled on the couch. “You gonna grow to that chair.” She said to Lewis, while she looked for her glasses.

“On top of your head.”

”Lord, I have begged You not to let me suffer.”

“Talk to somebody you know. Hand me that remote, will you, Lula

Mae?”

“Yea, call me by my name when you want something.”

“I had a lot of names for you back then. Sweetpea, Lovey-dovey, Buttercup…”

“Long time ago. Forget about it.” Lula Mae opened her Bible.

“Gotta do my Bible lesson before Wednesday night or Brother Fuller will think I’m the reprobate.”

“I think those white beans are gonna give me gas…..”

“Yea, and I think I’ll be sleeping in the other room.”

“You used to laugh when I fanned the covers….”

“Only because I didn’t know you very good then.”

“You knew me pretty well I think. Hand me that remote, okay, Buttercup?”

Lula Mae got up and went to the kitchen. “I think I’ll have me a

spot of Diet Coke. Do you want some?”

“It might help me burp off these beans, but just a small glass.”

Lula Mae handed Lewis the drink, carefully placing it in his good

hand. The left one had suffered a bullet hole five years ago when he fell down the creek bank while shooting snakes.

“How’s your hand?” She asked.

“Been healed up about four years now.”

“Smart aleck. Can’t even be nice to you nowadays. I always heard men got grumpy and ill when they got old. And you been old all your life.” She slapped her Bible down hard on her knee. “No kindness left in that heart.”

“Are you going to ever hand me that remote?”

“You always say nothing is on.”

“Well, it ain’t.”

Lula Mae gently laid her Bible down on the coffee table. The remote was not there. She knelt and checked under the sofa. Not there either. “Why don’t you ask for something I can’t find?” She asked, huffing and puffing as she got up and smoothed her skirt down. She looked on the end table, and the television, where she found the remote. She turned and handed it to Lewis, who had his eyes closed, and did not reach out to take it.

“Here, you old reprobate. Here’s that precious remote.”

Lewis did not open his eyes.

A week later the ladies from church were doing laundry in Lula Mae’s utility room. She had been in bed since the funeral, and they were starting to worry that she would never get out of it.

“Miss Lula Mae, would you like anything? A Coke?” One of them asked.

“You can get that fish out of that cooler on the cistern.” Lula Mae said. “I forgot it.”

“I already done that. You could smell it for a mile. Do you want something to eat, or could I just sit with you?”

“No, I don’t need a thing.” Lula Mae said. “Lord, why didn’t I give him the remote the first time he asked me? I will always have to know that I didn’t hand him the remote.”

“Well, you just rest. If you need anything, I will be right there in the living room.”

“Well, I don’t want anybody sitting in his recliner.” Lula Mae said.

She hugged his pillow. It smelled like him, just like him.