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Evelyn said, "Did you know that a tomato is a fruit?"
Mrs. Threadgoode, surprised, said, "It is?"
"It sure is."
Mrs. Threadgoode sat there, bewildered, "Oh no. Here all these years, throughout my whole life, I've been thinking they were a vegetable ... served them as a vegetable. A tomato is a fruit?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh yes. I remember that from home economics."
"Well, I just cain't think about it, so I'm go
"Well, good. Now I feel better. . . . What about a snap bean?
You're not go
"No, that's a vegetable."
"Well, good." She ate the last bit of pie and remembered something and smiled.
"You know, Evelyn, last night I had the loveliest dream. It seemed so real. I dreamed Momma and Poppa Threadgoode were standing on the front porch of the old house, waving for me to come over . . . and pretty soon, Cleo and Albert and all the Threadgoodes came out on the porch, and they all started calling to me. I wanted to go so bad, but I knew I couldn't. I told them I couldn't come now, not until Mrs. Otis got better, and Momma said, in that sweet little voice of hers, 'Well, hurry up, Ni
Mrs. Threadgoode turned to Evelyn, "Sometimes I just cain't wait to get to heaven. I just cain't wait. The first thing I'm go
"I'm sure he will be."
"Well, if anyone deserves to be there, it's him—I just hope I know when I see him."
FEBRUARY 3, 1939
The place was jam-packed full of railroad men at lunchtime, so Grady Kilgore went to the kitchen door and hollered in, "Fix me a mess of them fried green tomatoes and some ice tea, will ya, Sipsey? I'm in a hurry." Sipsey handed Grady his plate and he walked back in the cafe with his lunch.
Nineteen thirty-nine marked the fifth winter in a row that Railroad Bill had been hitting the trains. As Kilgore passed, Charlie Fowler, an engineer for the Southern Railroad, said, "Hey, Grady, I hear old Railroad Bill hit himself another train last night. Ain't you railroad dicks ever go
All the men laughed as Grady sat down at the counter to eat. "You boys can laugh if you want to, but it ain't fu
Jack Butts sniggered. “That nigger boy’s got ya’ll jumping every which way, ain't he?'*
Wilbur Weems, next to him, smiled and chewed on a toothpick. "I heard tell he threw a whole boxcar full of ca
“Yeah, and not only that," Grady said. "That black bastard threw seventeen hams that belonged to the United States government right off the damn train, in broad daylight"
Sipsey giggled as she put his iced tea down in front of him.
Grady reached for the sugar. "Now, that ain't fu
Jack said, "I hear nobody can figure out how he's getting on the trains and how he knows which ones have food on 'em. Or how he gets off before you boys can catch him."
"Grady," Wilbur added, "they say you ain't ever come close to catching him."
"Yeah, well, Art Bevins almost had him the other night, outside Gate City. Just missed getting him by two minutes, so his days are numbered . . . you mark my words."
Idgie was walking by. "Hey, Grady, why don't I send Stump over to the yard to help you boys out? Maybe he can catch him."
Grady said, "Idgie, just shut up and get me some more of these damn things," and handed his plate to her.
Ruth was behind the counter making change for Wilbur. "Really, Grady, I cain't see what harm it can be. These poor people are almost starving to death, and if it hadn't been for him throwing coal off, a lot of them would have frozen to death."
"I agree with you in a way, Ruth. Nobody cares about a few cans of beans, now and then, and a little coal. But this thing is getting out of hand. So far, between here and the state line, the company has already put on twelve new men, and I'm working a double shift at night."
Smokey Lonesome was down at the end of the counter having his coffee, and piped up, "Twelve men for one little old nigger boy? That's kinda like shooting a fly with a ca
"Don't feel bad." Idgie patted Grady on the back. "Sipsey told me the reason you boys cain't catch him is because he can turn himself into a fox or rabbit whenever he wants to. What do you think? Do you reckon that's true, Grady?"
Wilbur wanted to know how much the reward was up to.
Grady answered, "As of this morning, it was two hundred fifty dollars. Probably go up to five hundred before this thing is over."
Wilbur shook his head. "Damn, that's a lot of money. . . . What's he supposed to look like?"
"Well, according to our people that saw him, they say he was just a plain old nigger boy in a stocking cap."
"One smart nigger boy, I'd say," Smokey added.
"Yeah, maybe so. But I'll tell you one thing, when I do catch that black son of a bitch, he's go
Wilbur said, "Well hell, Grady, from what I hear, that ain't nothing new."
Everybody laughed.
Then, when Jack Butts, who was also a member of the Dill Pickle Club, said, "Yeah, it must be pretty bad . . . I hear Eva Bates's been complaining, too," the whole place exploded with laughter.
"Why, Jack, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," Charlie said. "You ought not to insult poor Eva that way."
Grady got up and looked around the room. "You know, every one of you boys in this cafe is as ignorant as hell. Just plain ignorant!"
He went to the hat rack and got his hat, and then turned around. "They ought to call this place the Ignorant Cafe. I think I'll just take my business elsewhere."
Everybody, including Grady, laughed at that one, because there wasn't anyplace else. He went out the door and headed for Birmingham.
NOVEMBER 27, 1986
Stump Threadgoode, still a good-looking man at fifty-seven, was at his daughter Norma's house for Thanksgiving di
Stump turned to the boyfriend. "I had an uncle, Cleo, that was a chiropractor. Course, he never made a dime at it . . . treated everybody in town free. But that was during the Depression, and nobody had any money, anyhow.
"My momma and Aunt Idgie ran a cafe. It wasn't nothing more than a little pine-knot affair, but I'll tell you one thing: We always ate and so did everybody else who ever came around there asking for food . . . and that was black and white. I never saw Aunt Idgie turn down a soul, and she was known to give a man a little drink if he needed it. . .