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The neighborhood kids
nicknamed the cranky old couple Crazy Jack and Ruby
Rednose. Rumor was that they sat inside and drank
whiskey all day. It was true that Jack and Ruby Jones
preferred to keep to themselves. About the only words
we ever heard from them were "Keep out of our
rosebushes!"
The rosebushes were
seventy beautiful floribunda shrubs that served as a
fence between our house and theirs. The rose fence
took quite a bit of abuse, since our house was the
neighborhood hangout. I was eleven at the time and the
oldest of six active girls. We should have played our
softball games elsewhere to avoid hurting the roses,
but we secretly enjoyed irritating Crazy Jack and Ruby
Rednose.
Jack and Ruby had a son
whom we nicknamed Crazy Jack Junior. He was due to
come home from Vietnam. We heard he had been
discharged because of a nervous breakdown. The
neighborhood had thrown a big party for Jimmy Brown
when he came home from the war, but no one offered to
have a party for Crazy Jack Junior.
The day Crazy Jack
Junior was scheduled to come home, we had a
neighborhood softball game in our yard. Johnny McGrath
was trying to catch a fly ball. He stumbled over one
of Ruby Rednose's thorny rosebushes and fell on top of
several more. Boy, did he yell, but the roses were the
ones that really suffered. From my vantage point at
second base, it looked like about ten of them were
damaged pretty badly. Johnny's timing was terrible,
because as he lay there swearing at the roses, the
Joneses' pickup rolled into the driveway. The truck
screeched to a halt and Crazy Jack Junior sprang out.
He ran full speed toward Johnny.
"You little punk!" he
screamed. "Look what you've done to our family's
roses! You've always been trouble. I'm going to fetch
my gun and shoot you!"
The next few minutes
were a blur. The neighborhood kids ran for their
lives. Ruby and Jack tried to restrain their son. He
continued to yell threats and profanities. Ruby wasn't
my favorite person, but I felt sorry for her when I
saw her tearfully pleading with Crazy Jack Junior.
Finally, they coaxed him inside.
Meanwhile, my sisters
and I tore into our house. Breathlessly, we told Mom
what had happened. She put down her sewing and
scolded, "Girls, I have told you not to play softball
near those bushes. Come outside right now and help me
fix them."
"Mom, we thought you
didn't like the Joneses," we protested. "They're mean
to us. Besides, Crazy Jack Junior might shoot us."
Mom just glared at us.
We followed her outside to help mend the rose fence.
While Mom examined the
damaged roses, my sisters and I hung back, plotting
how to get out of the thorny job.
As we whispered back
and forth, the Joneses' garage door opened and Ruby
slowly walked out. She looked sad. And it wasn't her
nose that was red, it was her eyes.
Ruby walked over to my
mother. The two women stood looking at each other
through the new gap in the rose fence. We girls held
our breath, waiting to see who would shout first and
what terrible things would be said. How much trouble
would we be in when it was all over?
Suddenly my mother
stepped forward and hugged Ruby. "I'm glad your son
came back home," she said gently. "It must have been a
horrible experience in Vietnam. We're sorry about the
flowers. The girls will replace them if we can't fix
them. In return for all the bother, they'll help you
weed the roses this summer."
My sisters and I looked
at each other in horror, but Ruby smiled at my mother
through her tears. "I know we're particular about
these roses," she said, "but they're very special to
us. When my mother came from
England, she brought one tiny
part of her favorite rosebush. That was her reminder
of home."
She paused a minute,
then said sadly, "My mother had a magic touch with
flowers. Over the years that one plant multiplied into
all these bushes. Since she died, I've tried to keep
them up, but I just don't have her magic touch."
Her voice was all
choked up. "Mom died while Jack Junior was in
Vietnam. He just found out about
her death today. When he saw her rosebushes damaged,
it was the last straw."
Ruby mopped at her
tears. "Once we got him inside and calmed down, he
admitted he's out of control. Jack just drove him to
Clinton Valley to be admitted to a treatment program."
By now I felt really
bad for the Jones family-what a sorrowful homecoming!
I could tell my mother and sisters felt the same. "We
all enjoy the roses as much as you do. We1l be happy
to help you care for them," my mother said. "You know,
some people say I have a magic touch with flowers,
too."
Soon both women were
down on their knees talking and examining the damaged
bushes together. A few weeks later, the plants all
returned with vigor.
My mother and Ruby
worked together on the roses all summer long and many
summers to follow. So did my sisters and I. A
friendship formed between the families that would
include countless birthdays, graduations and
weddings-including Jack Junior's.
Years later, when her
son left home and her husband died, Ruby became part
of our family, spending many happy hours at our house.
She wasn't Ruby Rednose
anymore; she was Aunt Ruby. And the rose fence wasn't
a fence any longer. My mother had turned it into a
bridge.
Donna Gundle-Krieg
Donna
Gundle-Krieg of
Milford,
Michigan,
has written for several publications and recently
published a children??™s book called ???From Desert to
Detroit.??? This book is about an Iraqi family who comes
to America and the big city problems they face,
including prejudice. The purpose of the book is to
educate children and others about the complex
international issues of our time. For more
information, go to
www.blitzkriegpublishing.com |
