May 22, 2007
My Grandmother, part II
Originally published July 1, 2005
I believe that I blogged about this story long ago, but my archives are so screwed up that I can't find the original post now. That doesn't matter. The story is worth telling again. It's all true.
My Aunt Jenetta was 12 years old at the time, so that would make Mommie somewhere in her early 30s. (she started breeding young, as most mountain wimmen did back then.) The two of them were riding a mule back home after visiting some relatives.
They were following the railroad track when some rapist-varmit-dipstick jumped out of the bushes and TACKLED my grandmother right off that mule. They went rolling through the cinders at the side of the railroad track, tusslin' like there was no tomorrow.
Mommie still likes to tell that story. "He was tryin' to put his hand up my skirt and I KNEW what he wanted, but I wasn't gonna have none of that. I managed to hook a finger into one of his eyeballs, and I almost felt it pop out of his head. He started screaming, and that's when 'Netta landed on his back, clawing at him with her long fingernails." The two of them beat the shit out of that bastard.
The would-be rapist finally ran away, lucky to be alive.
When Mommie got home and told the story, my grandfather loaded his rifle and intended to take care of what needed to be done himself. He was gonna find the sumbitch and KILL HIM! But Mommie persuaded him to talk to the sheriff first, so that's what he did.
They caught the guy shortly thereafter. He was easy to spot, because he had a go-to-hell black eye and claw-marks over his face. The sheriff dragged his battered ass to Mommie's cabin, and she said, "Yep. That's HIM!"
He went to "The Pen." Mommie kept riding that mule just the way she'd always done before. That bastard didn't scare her. She was a strong farm-woman back then, and there wasn't much that scared her.
Hell. She scared ME when I was a child.
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