BBs for Miss Daisey

Jim
Pluimer
Posted 6/5/03

6 a.m., Wednesday, June 5, 1957- The plinking sounds of BBs rattled me out of my bed. I ran over to the bedroom window and looked out to see what the racket was. It was Aunt Shirley; she was busy drilling holes through a rusty lineup of old tin cans with a BB gun! This was a side of her I'd never seen before. I was somewhat confused. Luckily, Uncle Al took me out for breakfast that morning and we avoided any type of confrontation with Miss Daisey.

On Wednesday mornings the local Tower Cafe packed 'em in like cigars in a cigar box, and today was no exception. The cafe menu was almost entirely in Norwegian so my uncle ordered for me. We settled on blåbær bollen, sideflesk, and eggerøre (blueberry muffins, bacon and scrambled eggs).

After finishing our tasty little breakfast we walked back to the Tavista¹s. Aunt Shirley met us at the door. "I need more BBs!" she told A1. "Can you run up to Koolerville and pick some up for me?"

"You bet," A1 replied. Shirley went running into the house. It surprised me, but she had a lot of spring for an old lady. In no time she came running back out with a list of other things to get and some extra money for lunch. A1 and I made for the Chev and headed out of Dodge.

After twisting through four miles of nonstop gravel we reached the tar and turned north. A mile down the road we passed by the town of 3-Corners (pop. 10) and its only two landmarks: the "Omanstein" bar and the "Capital" gas station. I was curious about how the town got its name, so I asked Al.

Al shifted into third as we cleared the city limits. "Four brothers settled here back in the 1880s. They divided up the land so that each of them had a corner. Ten years later, one of the brothers, his name was Alan, moved to St. Paul. His corner was known as 'Alan's Corner'. When he moved, no one ever claimed his land. So in 1902, they decided to call their town 3-Corners." The story was convincing, but I was growing ever so skeptical of my uncle's ability to stick to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The road to Koolerville was well drained, as were the folks that drove it. Miles of nowhere that led to nothing. On and on we drove until I dozed off. When I finally opened my eyes we were there. Koolerville was bigger and busier than I had imagined. Not only did the town have lots of stores, it had TWO lakes. At the hardware store, A1 loaded up on BBs, got some corks for himself, plus a few odds and ends for Shirley, and tried to break a pair of pliers but he still couldn't do it.

Pease Note- My Grandpa, Nick Pluimer, could drive a railroad spike through three inches of wood with his bare hands; I've seen him do it. Another nifty trick he could do was to go into a hardware store and ask for a good pair of pliers. When the clerk handed him the pliers, Nick would squeeze them until one of the handles broke. "Must be defective!" A1 was never able to do this, but it didn't stop him from trying to outdo Nick.

On the way back to Summer Lake I once again nodded off in the back seat. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing Shirley looking straight at me. Instead of a gun she was carrying a warm smile and a plate of fresh pastries.

"Have a nice trip?" she asked. I was convinced that I was still dreaming.

"This can't be the real Shirley," I thought. When Al reached in and dragged my limp body out of the back seat, I knew it wasn't a dream.

"Come in and wash up. I have some fresh baked goodies for my boys," she added.

Aunt Shirley walked in behind us, wearing a full-cocked smile and shaking her BBs like an eight-year-old.

Al and I sat at the table and quietly enjoyed our snack. Something was going on and I had the feeling that my uncle knew plenty. I also had the feeling that I too, in due time, would be privy to whatever it was that "was up." Shirley came back into the kitchen with her you-know-what and sat beside us at the table. She was still smiling; that worried me. I had a petrified smile of my own. I had never tried to act this good in my life! Any better and the halo would have been noticeable.

Daisey, Daisey,

Load up your BBs do!

I'm half crazy

Tryin' to figure out you!

You gave me no timely warning,

When you shot at the cans this morning!

Bet you'd look sweet

And take your seat

If the barrel was pointed at you!