Smokey Mountain Highs

“Hey, its snowing out there!” As I looked up from my magazine waiting on the Bear to get out of therapy the snow flakes floated to the ground as winds made the flakes dance. The roads had light traffic on them and I didn’t worry about it. The locals were kind of panicked over this weather event. “We don’t git snow very much down here” said the old grey haired gent who leaned on his old wooden cane.

The quaint feeling of Maryville took on a special mood for me that day as I watched the snow fall. The receptionist accused me of bringing the snow with me from New York. I smiled and politely apologized for the snow. I knew it wasn’t me who brought it, but she who sent it. I didn’t tell Bear or Star till way later in the day about what would have been our 24th Wedding Anniversary, they really didn’t seem to hear me anyway. Snow was June’s way to remind me.

I really didn’t need to be reminded. It was on my mind all weekend. I arrived in Tennessee late Friday Night and was at a funeral for a friends Grandfather on Saturday Morning. Skippy is a redneck from a family that has had its share of run ins with the law. Skippy was the first one in his family to actually be a Peace Officer. He led the procession of mourners in his Sheriff’s
Department Vehicle. It was Spring nine years ago I led June’s procession to her grave.

One of Skippy’s grey haired, tobacco growing, shine distilling relatives from upriver said
“I’d never thought I’d see the day one of Zeke’s kin sit in the ‘front seat’ of a Cop car.” It was a day out of a story book, the cool clear spring morning sky broke in deep blue as the sun graced the steamy still mist of the Smokey Mountains floating behind the long green rolling fields and farms as far as the eye could see. As we stood at the graveside of the old landmark 1870’s Methodist Church, that day looked like heaven and felt like 1870’s. I thought of June there too.

But this Monday I drove us back to Bears as snow fell on a dark and gloomy grey day in Eastern Tennessee. Bear was grumpy, sarcastic, miserable and talkative, that is his usual self. Having a Doctor twist his bad shoulder around didn’t help his mood. Star saw how miserable we were when we got to the house. I didn’t want to be miserable, I didn’t want to sit around. So, we drove into the Smokey Mountains, to ‘Cades Cove’ up the river route in the Spring snow.

Bear is in his 50’s heavy set with white hair and classic Scottish features, Star still has a thin frame, dark hair and a nice smile but southern cooking is filling out her butt (no fat but firm). But late 40’s early 50’s has caught up with all of us. As we drove the backwoods river route to the Smokey Mountains and the National Park, Bear talked about the cast of characters in his East Tennessee world. Star filled in the sordid details of these characters.

I was told of the young black stud who was thoroughly gay and hid it poorly, living with a big fat nasty white girl in his two room trailer. I was told of the vicious and invidious beefalow bitch who is divorcing Skippy, but showed up at the funeral and had the nerve to sit with the immediate family (who had nothing nice to say about her). I was informed Clem told Old Moe that the family should have thrown her ass in Marty‘s pig pen right across the road from Church.

Ms. AnnaLee who owns PeachTree Corners and the local bus company built herself a nice place behind the land where Ricky Slim had the big still. Ricky had to sell that land because he couldn’t farm it like he used to, the Internal Revenue and his ex-wife had a hand in the sale too. Its not that far from the river (fresh water for the still). The old barn where he made some 15 year old girl pregnant about 10 years ago is still in use by local boys for the same purpose.

As we drove into the Smokey Mountain National Park, the snow started to stick to the trees and the roads became a little slick. The scenery was awesome, we could have been in Belgium, in the Arden, but it was the Smokey Mountains and the day, in several shades of grey was just inspirational. Even after at least an hour of local gossip, I had June on my mind.

Cades Cove was full of deer, geese, ducks and an occasional black bear. (Road warnings were posted every 3 miles about the bears) After taking pictures, stopping at the Visitors center for some local history and walks around old churches, barns and historical homes in Cades Cove we left for Gatlinburg on a snowy afternoon.

We stopped in a local establishment for food and drinks, a local came by and sat down with us and discussed the Cove, and the hill people. The old geezer saw that my attention was drifting in an out and he asked me what was going on ’in there’? I was polite and told him what this day meant for me, I briefly told him about June.

The old geezer said, “Son, I know it hurts and it won’t get better if you don’t start nothing new. Its an old scab your picking at, its not on you knee or elbow, but your heart. So take my advise boy, leave the scab alone and find God’s strength to carry on.” His hard dark eyes, thin grey hair, pale white skin and medium height did hide the fact the two early thirties black women at the little end of the bar were with him. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

The entertainment that afternoon was a skinny, bearded acoustic guitarist who had to be early twenties. He had a local accent, he had hippie length hair, but when I asked about his boots he said “I was with the 3rd Marines in Iraq”. He played a James Taylor song on his worn acoustic guitar that made my old scars sore. He sang ‘Fire and Rain’, the words and the prayer in that song had me hiding my tears behind sun glasses on a grey and stormy day.

We left Gatlinburg for Pigeon Forge to see a woman with a pink Cadillac. Her home looked modest on the outside, inside was eight rooms and a kitchen from either Emeril or the Iron Chef. Nita practiced Voodoo and wouldn’t say what she could do. She was a friend of Star’s and I felt threatened in her presence, but Nita, a 30ish, bright skinned black woman who was dressed in a bright orange yellow type dashiki about waist high, put me quite at ease. I was apprehensive, I liked it.

“So, why are you here?” Nita, looked at Star, but the question was meant for me. “Passing through and wanted to you to meet my friend RJ. By the way you gonna be at Bracken’s Friday? Star lit a cigarette and looked at Nita inquisitively as she fired up a bowl of ganja. “Yeah, I plan to be there, what about you RJ? Will you be there?” I told her if Star and Bear are there, I will be also. Nita stared in my face, grinned and asked when I arrived in Tennessee.

“Friday Night, Ma‘am”. Nita eyeballed me up and down, she sat with a pipe in a love seat, her legs spread open revealing her soft shaved femininity. I was trembling, because I know God and I was angry that a Vodoo priestess had me feeling like I was her boy bitch. “Sit next to me, Nita demanded.” Her eyes became a little softer as she opened her legs a little wider. I sat down.

Nita looked at me, took my hand and asked me to tell her about myself. I gave her the extreme short story of my life and questioned her about Vedan/Voodoo practices. “My house is fortified against demons and malefic spirits….I have many things in here to keep them out (she had sage throughout her house along with peppermint and other plants - it smelled divine) but it didn’t keep you out,” said Nita. “You see me as a ‘malefic spirit’, Nita.”

“No RJ, its just that you seem to cast a long shadow, your kind of intimidating RJ” said Nita as she leaned into a corner of the love seat, staring into my eyes. “Funny Nita, I thought the same thing about you“. Bear and Star found the way onto the deck that surrounded her home while Nita and I talked some more. It didn’t take long to realize I was being seduced. I won’t get into a lot of detail but it worked. The scents of cilantro, strawberry and mint on Nita linger in my mind.

We eventually got back to Maryville, drank a little and crashed. More adventures about the wonders of East Tennessee will be posted later.

RJ