by Loren Logsdon

When a perfect stranger stopped at Mom’s Family Restaurant and inquired as to the whereabouts of Boone Fowler, Molly Turgent, Goddess of the Electric Griddle at the eatery, was having a bad day. Thus she snapped back, “He’s down there at Tug Armstrong’s cabin at the river guzzling beer, playing cards, and God knows what else.”

Of course that remark soon made the rounds in Weeder’s Clump and finally reached the ears of Julie Armstrong, wife of the Brown-Eyed Nut-Twister. The expression “guzzling beer” had set off an alarm, and all kinds of fearful scenarios began to flash across the movie screen in her brain.

Julie was a good woman with lots of common sense. She was strong, practical, and loyal to her husband Tug and her many friends. She was a person you could always count on in a crisis. In her marriage, she followed Mark Twain’s suggestion to “Put all your eggs in one basket and guard that basket.” But the expression “guzzling beer” indicated that perhaps there was a rotten egg in the basket. Julie did not object to Tug’s hoisting a libation or two on special occasions, but guzzling, well, that was quite another matter.

Over the years Tug had given Julie no reason to question his devotion. He did not flirt with other women. But once, when they were shopping at Provender’s Market, looking at the fresh baked goods, a young woman in rather tight Levis walked by; and Tug, thinking no one could hear him,  sighed and whispered softly, “Nice buns.” Julie gave him such a hurt look followed by an icy stare that Tug apologized immediately, claiming that he was referring to the dinner rolls, but Julie didn’t believe him.  He realized then that Julie had hearing superior to any bat, and he was careful from then on not to give her cause to doubt him. As the Irish saying goes, Tug “put his head in the sack” and did not admire other women in Julie’s presence.

It didn’t take Julie Armstrong long to go into action. She visited Mercy Slaughter and told her about Molly’s remark. Then she shocked Mercy by announcing that under cover of darkness she was going to go to the cabin and spy on the men. Julie asked, “Will you go with me?”

A frown quickly appeared on Mercy’s visage, and she said, “Wanton is the most honorable man I have ever known. He is loving, kind, intelligent, hard working, considerate, loyal, imaginative, resourceful, and wise. Furthermore, he is a man of character, a faithful husband, and a wonderful father. Our marriage is based on trust. I cannot betray that trust. I could not live with myself if I were to spy on him. Count me out.”

Julie received practically the same answer from Mary Markem, who countered with the opinion that Molly Turgent was exaggerating. “I cannot imagine Lancaster guzzling beer,” Mary added. “Guzzle is a strange word. I never use it myself.”

Julie was reluctant to undertake the espionage mission alone, so she asked her best friend Mimsy Livingood to go with her on Saturday night, look in the cabin windows, and see what the men were doing.

Mimsy Livingood was a big city girl who had little first-hand knowledge of life in the country. She admitted that she did not feel safe in the country at night because the darkness could conceal all kinds of scary and evil things. Thus she shook her head, pursed her lips, and said to Julie, “You couldn’t pay me any amount of money to go wandering around the Big Sleazy at night. Who knows what is lurking in the darkness. There could be anacondas, pythons, rabid bats, cobras, Satan worshipers, drug addicts, banshees, serial killers, aliens from outer space, marching ants, Mafia hit men, brown recluse spiders, bird flu, lime disease, West Nile virus, Legionnaire’s disease, swamp fever, Lady Gaga, Dr. Phil, and the Menards Man, not to mention Pennywise the Clown.”

“What has Pennywise the Clown to do with anything?” Julie replied.

“I asked you not to mention Pennywise the Clown,” Mimsy laughed, trying to lighten the situation with a little levity. “But I can’t do it. You’ll have to go alone. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I wouldn’t be any help at all. I would be too terrified.”

Thus on Saturday night at around nine o’clock Julie Armstrong drove her car across the Chinquapin Creek Bridge and parked it in a grove of low-hanging willows. Summoning all the courage she could muster, she left the car and began to walk briskly the half-mile trek to the cabin on the bank of the Big Sleazy River, determined to find out for herself what the men were doing.

Dr.  Logsdon is the much-loved English professor who has inspired students at Western Illinois University and Eureka College for many years. He lives in Eureka with his wife, Mary, and writes a weekly story for the Woodford County News Bulletin.