CLAYHILL#3 -THE PAYNTER!
Melvin Clayhill, especially as he grew older, became a last minute talker. He came by our house one evening at about seven to talk some building we had a mind to do, and at l0:30 he had been standing at the back door saying good-bye for an hour or more. He had a story to tell."jus' one more, 'n I gotta go".
I had learned to stay with him when he was in the mood, because he had a supply of stories which was untapped.
" I wuz on my way home, a'walkin' , you might know. I wuz all alone there in the dark night. Ne'r you mind, why I was so late, now – that' no bizness of yur'n,'' 'He mused for just a moment.'“Oh., she were a pretty gal, I tell you! Now, Brother Timothy had gone home afore dark, you see and I wuz runnin' late."
"“Well, I won't zackly runni'n'', but I was moving along real fast, because it was too quite out there! It was one of them strange nights when the crickets don't sound out; when they's no birds chatterin' in the tree tops and when the moon wuz hid by scudding clouds washed o're ie like huge, fat hands chocking the life out'n it."
"“Suddenly, I realized there was a noise; one I had not heard, as if something something smooth and hairy was a-slitherin' through the low brush n' small trees along the side of the road itself road. I moved to the exact center of the dirt road, walking uneasily on the middle ridge of the narrow road; sorta of equal-distance from both shadowy sides and ,when the moon splashed clear for a few second, I saw what I feared .. what I had heared."
There was two round eyes with narrow dark slits a-lookin' square-front at me! A paynter"
Now, you being a flat-lander, may not know that word. It's Clayhill for"panther” by which I knew Melvin meant he was accompanied by some type of a wildcat - anything feline will do wildcat, bobcat, - all could be paynters – many of which were roaming and always hungry,in the Blue Ridge Mountains just east us. We all avoided them. Not just Melvin, respected them, you might put it and I readily understood Melvin's fear on finding that one of them was monitoring his ever move as he was hurried along that murky, tree-shrouded road.
“I'm' bein' tracked by a real, live paynter! I told myself and when I moved faster, sure enough, it moved along faster in the brush I could hear it, now, to clear nd closer, it seemed. I wished the moon would stay hid ;'cause I din't want to see the critter - just a few feet away in the brush.”
“They was no end to it! That pacin' and listenin'! l went on 'n on 'n pretty soon, I knew I was a'gittin' close to our house. I dreaded that moment when I knowed I had to turn right acrost the path of that paynter to get into our lane. I thought, that's when that ole paynter will pounce! Right then,as I turn he'll pounce ''n break my neck! I wisht I had a big stick, but I din' dare stop to find one! Let's face it. Ain't often I been scairt, but that was one time I was scairt right down to the soft stuffin' in my bones!"
"Well, sir. I guess I paniced when it came time to turn, but the house was just a few yard away now and I had to run the rest of the way. I must have been a'callin ' fer 'Help! Paynter' Suddenly, just ahead of me, I seen my Daddy come a bustin 'out'n the door just ahead of me which his rifle in hand and as I whizzed by him into the house he let fire with c-a-a-rack that shook that side of the world!"
“I missed 'im!”admitted my father when he came in. ”Big 'un, too! As fine a paynter as ever I seen put a paw on this place, I tell you! He seemed puzzled that he could have failed to hit something so large.”
"“Hit were many a year a'fore he told me they won't nothin' out there. Well, as fur as he could make out, but he fired at what might have been there. He was a good, loving, protective Father, our Daddy Brutus Clayhill, - real good. Taught me a lesson, he did - that night. Come home early, afore dark like brother Timothy did."
"“I had to agree. Ain't no gal that pretty!"
A.L.M. April 28, 2003 [c1097ds]
