The Peculiar Case of Judson Small (WWI,1919, Parat II of II)

The Peculiar Case of Judson Small


(WWI, 1919, Part II of II)

One morning, Lilly Ann Small, moved her chair up to the living room window for a long peaceful morning, gloating , not at the empty yard, since her husband had died in WWI, a year or so ago, it was now 1919, but on her new suitor, James Jason, who worked at the Huntsville, courthouse, he was an old boyfriend, one that didn’t make the grade she had felt, one that was now contriving to ease her grieving pain by asking her to marry him. She watched the chickens in the coop over by the large oak tree, and beyond that the orchard her and Judson were going to cultivate through the many years of marriage they had planned together, clutching the windowsill in front of her, she saw a man walking up the lane, she rushed to lock the door, out of some unknown panic, he didn’t look like James Jason, and she was several miles out of town, on her little farm of twenty acres. And strangers usually did not come so boldly up the lane at 9:00 AM in the morning. And then back at the window she looked again, drew back in her chair. Perhaps it was an Army friend of Judson’s, she thought, that one that wrote her about how Judson died, that Private Stanley from New Orleans, or was it, North Carolina, she forgot, but that was over a year ago. She noticed a neighbor was watching also, there was only one neighbor, across from her, in the Old Anderson Place, it was a plantation back before the Civil War days, a productive plantation, now just a high weeded spinster home, to Annabel Anderson and her sister Mary, and a small country church, resided a ways down the road near the edge of her property, which was once Andersen property also, but Annabel gave it to the church, to build a church, that called themselves ‘nondenominational,’ which she could never understand but it sound good. Other than that, the land was doted with small farms all the way into Huntsville.
Lilly Ann looked over towards Judson’s old rifle, he kept it loaded, said for snakes and so forth, but you usually didn’t kill snakes with rifles, unless you beat them to death, he used the end of a shovel usually, to cut off their heads with, if he found them on the steps of his house or playing around in the yard scaring the chickens, the rifle was for mammal use, not the reptile. Anyhow, she looked and felt a little safe it was there. The closer he got, this stranger, the more he looked like her husband, Judson Small. “Maybe,” she said out loud, “maybe he isn’t dead. People all the time make mistakes, a pure and innocent mistake.”
Now he was at the door, knocking, whereupon she realized that he was Judson Small indeed, and she opened he door gave a virulent germ grin, as if she wasn’t sure if she won bingo.
“Judson, Judson Small, is it really you?” she asked.
“I’m hungry,” he said, kissed her, and went to the kitchen table, “how about breakfast,” he asked.
There was something peculiar about him, but she Lilly Ann, simple took it slow, said, “I’ll make you some coffee and hot cakes,” and proceeded to do so, but unstopping, kept an eye on him, wanting to celebrate, but he was sedate in way. Her second thought was: perhaps he’s just come out of an Army hospital; she didn’t know what to make of it, to the edge of being dumfounded.

A few days now had passed, and Judson Small was doing things around the house, and James Jason came over, and so did Samuel Clarence Lund, the preacher from the local church, he usually visited Saturdays anyway, and was curious on who the visitor was, for Annabel Anderson had mentioned Lilly had a male guest in her house, that of course was news, lots of gossip.
James Jason also came over to visit Lilly Ann that very Saturday, Samuel did, Judson knew him from High School, said James came out with, “I thought you were…” and before he could finish it, Lilly said, “Hush!” and he never finished the sentence.
After that, Lilly simply said, “You need to go!”
And he did, without a second’s hesitation, knowing Judson was there, and his peculiar kind of tranquilized looks were a tinge too much for him.
Samuel on the other hand pulled Lilly aside and asked, “Perhaps I was mistaken, but I understood your husband had died in the war, over a year ago?”
“Yes, Samuel, he did, and I been meaning to ask you, but you will not believe it, I think he doesn’t know he’s dead. Because he acts peculiar, and I checked with the authorities, and they sent me some money—insurance and they buried him for me, and here he is, and they will not agree he is alive, and I fear they may put me in an asylum if I insist he is alive but you see what I see.”
“I’m tired,” said Judson.
“I’ll take you to bed in a moment, let me just talk to Samuel a second, he’s the new preacher down at the country church, down yonder.”
And so Judson went to his normal bedroom alone, and sat on the edge of his bed as if, ready to lay down, but was somehow, less tired then he made out to be, and remained sitting.
Samuel and Lilly looked at each other a moment, just wondered exactly what Judson could be up to, did he know he was dead, and pretending not to know, or was he dead and came back because his wife was confused on the intentions James had on her, she would never truly know, but Samuel, somewhat gave his support by saying, “I do believe in such happenings, he found some kind of a passage, and obviously he came to insure you are ok, brief I think now it will be, James will never come back, I mean would you if you were him? (She shook her head no with a smirk on it). Incidentally I heard his side of the face was blown off, it looks just fine to me?”
“Oh, that never occurred to me, but you’re right, that is another point to reflect on I suppose,” said Lilly Ann, as she looked into the bedroom, and saw Judson, then he got up, came out to her, kissed her, and went back into the bedroom and laid down, she saw all this and made sure he was ok, then said good by to the preacher, walking him back out of the house with the to the lane, taking about five minutes, whereupon she came back in, full view of the bedroom from the door, she had left it open, she saw the impression of his body in the mattress, it was the first time she told herself, he ever kiss me so tenderly (in a more caring way). He was gone, I suppose she thought, once he realized things were under control, regardless of his feelings, he had to let go himself, let go of her, so she could let go of him, and go on with her life, somewhere along the line this had to happen, and the moment had come, he was gone. And that was the last she ever saw of him, her husband, or heard of him. She never did remarry her eyes star-crossed with love for a war hero perhaps. In a way, they both were doomed and fated to each other, and it was obvious that day would never be forgotten.

Written 7-5-2008 (dm)