Homeward Bound through Twomey

Defellow Ford is hungry. So hungry that first light finds him in the fertile Duck River bottom land with his .22 rifle, hunting squirrel. Since his pa and Uncle Orrin have gone up north to find work, feeding the family rests on the shoulders of seventeen year old Defellow and his younger brother, fifteen year old, Hiram. Neither boy can stomach another squirrel. They would both prefer pork chops, but that was dreaming. His family has eaten so many squirrels that Defellow is certain there isn’t one left in all of Hickman County. Many days the family doesn’t eat meat, just whatever vegetable happens to be coming in at the time.
Without Ma’s garden, the family would starve.
Just as he decides this hunting excursion is wasted effort, Defellow hears a gun shot. He stills to determine the direction of the shot. The sound came from over towards the house. Good. Hiram probably shot a squirrel and they could call it quits. Not that one scrawny squirrel would feed the five hungry people at the house. Ma, pregnant with her sixth Ford; Uncle Rafe, Ma’s brother; the twins and little Zeb are all counting on Defellow and Hiram to bring in meat for breakfast. Running through the dense August fog towards the direction of the sound, Defellow stumbles over something and falls.
A man. A dead man.
Defellow scrambles to his feet. He doesn’t recognize the man. Probably a hobo. To Defellow’s credit, he walks several yards away from the man before he thinks to go through the man’s pockets. Defellow returns to the man’s side, drops to his knees and rifles through the dead man’s pockets. He finds a double eagle twenty dollar gold piece, a sea shell, some matches, and a gold watch and chain. Defellow pockets it all and heads for the house at full gallop.
Since the beginning of what President Herbert Hoover calls the “Great Depression” the Ford family has seen their share of transients. Some families with little, figuring on riding out the difficult times; while others with even less, left in search of work. Men, and an occasional woman, desperate for their families, forsook all to search out the next day’s meal. Even Twomey’s own Highland Mining Company’s phosphate plant is down to a single day shift with a minimum of men.
During World War I, phosphate was in big demand. Phosphate mining was vital to Tennessee’s economy during the early part of the twentieth century. During that time the Highland Mining Company ran three round the clock shifts. Phosphate was one of the components used in the iron that went in the production of military tanks. After the war, the demand went down. Nowadays, talk is of the phosphate plant closing altogether. Tel Ford, Defellow’s pa, had been the sorting manager at the local plant for ten years when he got laid off. With so many men out of work, most families in Twomey had at least one member traveling north looking for work. All left town the same way. On foot by way of the ribbon of steel that runs not fifty feet from the Ford’s back door, the South Central Railroad Company’s tracks. Transients would often call out from the backyard or knock on the Ford’s porch railing asking for a handout. Being the benevolent woman that she is, Defellow’s ma, Opal Ford, would deny no man a cold biscuit and a cup of the brew she boiled up from roasted ground acorns. It ain’t coffee, but it is bitter, strong, and hot.
After eating a cold fried egg and biscuit, Defellow and Hiram light out for the constable, to report the dead man. When Defellow and Hiram show the deputy constable the spot, the body is gone. Frustrated, the deputy storms off leaving Defellow and Hiram alone on the banks of the muddy Duck River to wonder where exactly does the body of a dead man up and go?
HOMEWARD BOUND THROUGH TWOMEY is a love story. Love between a man and a woman. A boy and a girl. A family and God.
It is also a story about greedy men so weakened by deprivation, so bitter from want, they turn evil. The kind of cunning evil that waits and watches.
Unspeakable. Godless. Evil.