Granny’s Lure

November is some of the best weather for Marco and her sister communities, but most Beach Boys and Girls come from other backgrounds where only age and wisdom can outfox a winter.

When Halloween was over in the Cumberland Mountains, and November came to East Tennessee, Granny broke her homemade witch broom over her knee and stuffed her concoction of barn straw and a crooked hickory stick into the fireplace. November in the mountains is the beginning of the season to keep the fireplace burning because the month of Thanksgiving is always in need of something besides the holiday to keep the spirits up and the family on the straight and narrow.

During the early days of November, the rain always arrives after the first frost in October. When November claims the calendar, the Great Smoky Mountains become rising peaks of almost bare Appalachian hardwoods and broken limestone cliffs. In the valleys and below the rocky outcrops and the lonesome pines that stand watch over the foggy bottoms, a heavy drizzle is always pulling at the last of the autumn leaves.

After a full week of the November fog and drizzle and a strong cup of coffee was not enough to keep Granny settled beside the fireplace, she decided to make something happen. She wanted a family gathering to find out what was going on, and to get what she wanted, Granny knew she had to bait a trap.

When the woods were mostly empty trees and a carpet of wet leaves for groundcover, it was always easy to find squirrels, but nowadays, none of the kids wanted to eat squirrels—even if there was squirrel gravy. Because she could shoot the eye out of a gnat at 100 yards, Granny was figuring the best way to bait the family was a good old-fashioned pig roast.

On the morning she decided to set out, the sun began to brighten the mist and send some shadows over to the barn where the tractor was waiting. When she climbed aboard the old Ford 3000 with her 30.06, Granny was determined to have a roasted pig ready for Sunday supper.

The old logging trails were mostly open during the fall, and after Granny saw the signs, she shut down the tractor and began stalking the trail with her rifle. She saw the young boar about the same time he saw her, but before he started the charge with the teeth and the growl that made kids afraid of wild boars, she shouldered the 30.06 and drilled him in the forehead. She gave him two more of the pricy shells before he stopped almost at her feet, but she had him cleaned and dragged back to the house before the sun began to fade on another round of November drizzle.

After the outside fieldstone pit was a circle around glowing embers, and the light below the ridges turned dark in the windows, Granny got down to business. Her timing was perfect and she was ready to set the bait and spring her trap. The family around grandpa’s table was full to the point of bursting and waiting for the first excuse to head home and turn on the TV.

“I have been hearing some news about this family.” Granny began, “And what I’m hearing is not anything we need to tell the preacher about on Sunday morning. The news is more than enough to fret about, and now that everybody is full and relaxed, it’s high time we get this out in the open. Someone at this table knows exactly what I am talking about, and I would like to think that any guilty member of this family would like to confess and get the gossip out in the open. Your Grandpa always said it feels good to get something off your chest.”

After Granny went quiet, she began to search all of the faces at the table. The youngest of her grandsons and his pretty wife began to shuffle in their seats—but that was to be expected—because young and good-looking married folks, who did not have kids—yet—always had something on the sly, even if it was in the back of the mind.

The oldest granddaughter who had four kids began to look uncomfortable, but her husband beside her was clearly not worried about anything but another helping of apple cobbler and the football he was missing on TV. The middle kids, who each had two of their own children, both looked worried but were better at hiding it than the youngest couple.

With almost everyone sitting on the very edge of the dining room chairs, but pretending not to, Granny broke the silence that was hanging heavy. “I already know what is going on, but I would feel better if we could get right down to laying it out on the table.”

In the fireplace, a burning log shifted in the hearth and sent a sudden crack across the room and a shower of sparks up the chimney.

When everyone’s eyes were anywhere but looking at granny and her steely eyes that brought down a wild boar in the wild woods of Tennessee, and after figuring that the ones who were looking the most guilty had suffered almost enough, granny said, “The person I’m talking about had better tell the truth about the town gossip, or I will tell it the way I heard it right now!”

When the prettiest of the married granddaughters and the meanest of the uncles began to speak at the same time, but stopped to look at each other, Granny started laughing. “When you get to be my age, you learn that most folks have something to hide, and it sure is fun to lay a trap and see who squirms the most!”