A tale of two store visits

First school photos of my mom and me.
A later photo of my mom with her sister in grandma's kitchen.

One day grandma ran out of thread. I don’t know when this was, but probably around 1930.  As my mom told it, she was about 5 or 6, and her sister Eunice was 7 years older. 

Grandma did sew a lot, all the girls' clothes and many of the boys, as well as always having a quilt going from the scraps. But she usually kept her thread stocked when they drove the buggy into town. The small store a mile down the road charged more. That day, she untrusted Eunice with a dime, because she didn’t have the nickel that was the price. She let my mom go along to keep her sister company. 

When they got to the store there was a new shipment of fresh oranges. An orange was a rare treat to an Ozark farm kid of the time. It truly was the best gift in their Christmas stockings. But there they were, and only a nickel. 

Eunice first swore my mom to secrecy. She bought the thread AND an orange. The girls split the orange on the way home and then lied, saying they dropped the nickel change and lost it. 

My mom carried the guilt of that for years. I remember her first telling me the story when I was a kid and had been caught in a lie of my own. 

But I also remember her telling it years later. After some holiday meal, the sisters and I were sitting around the table with my grandma, having pie and coffee as they shared memories. As my mom retold this, now in her 50’s, this was the first time she ever confessed the truth to her mother. I could see the worry in her eyes as she revealed the long held deception. 

And they laughed. Neither my aunt or grandma remembered anything about it. Grandma thought she probably didn’t even need thread but just wanted them out of the house for some quiet. 

I remember walking a mile down the mountain to the store with a friend. We had a dime or so for a bit of candy and then planned to wander farther, visiting a favorite creek bank to wade. I very importantly asked my mom if she needed anything while I was out, like my dad or older brother would do. She gave me an assignment and a dollar or two and told me I could keep the change. 

When we got to the store, I couldn’t remember what she said. Scott? I decided we must need toilet paper. I had enough to cover a four pack. 

We walked along the main “downtown” section of Topanga Canyon Blvd. We visited some other favorite stores. We set the bulky bag carefully on the dry bank and waded for a while. We walked back up the hill, taking side trails and shortcuts. We may have even stopped off in the cave. Safely I carried home my sacred trust. Proudly I presented my somewhat battered burden. 

And my mom laughed. She had asked for scotch tape. She didn’t really even need it. She really just wanted peace and quiet for a long afternoon nap.