Ed Rider, Young Author


When my Mother died my brother and sister went through her effect and separated out what they thought I might want. Among the items were the following two stories written on notebook paper in my awful hand writing. I vaguely remember writing them for an English class. I remember I had an argument with my teacher when she said “quiescence” was not a word. I insisted it was even though it was not in the small dictionary we had in the small country school in South East Alabama. I read every book I could get my hands on and was sure I had seen that word used somewhere. When I moved to a larger school with a larger dictionary, the first thing I did was to look for that word. I was right!

Morning Excursion

By

Ed Rider (Age 12) 1944

I swung briskly along the crooked cow trail with my Remington .22 Simi-automatic balanced in my right hand. My step was light and springy, my toes always touching the ground before my heels. This made for a noiseless tread and kept me constantly in a position of potential agility. The latter is a very important factor when walking through the swamp because there is great danger of stepping on snakes, which are very numerous. The air I breathed seemed especially fresh and invigorating. It contained the spicy tang of pine needles and the heavy moldering scent of the swamp. Also in the air was the faint but penetrating smell of the poplar pollen pods. The poplars were on my right, fringing the swamp and rising to stupendous heights. Not to be outdone, the cypresses in the middle of the swamp stretched their cylindrical, limbless trunks up equal heights and to be topped off with only a handful of foliage. The swamp, which is about twenty five feet below the level of the cow trail, was in deep shadow even though it was a fair day. The trail on which I trod occasionally passed through the shadows cast by the half grown leaves of the scrub oak. The sun cast my shadow to my right about three feet which indicated that is was near ten o’clock. If the sun had been at the same angle in the West, I would have been almost within the shadow of the swamp.

Straight ahead and to my left I could see perhaps three hundred yards through the stunted scrub oak. The ground at a distance was blanketed in grey by last fall’s dead wire grass, which was about eighteen inches high. Close at hand it was brown and green behind a flimsy veil of grey, the brown being dead oak leaves and the green being new wire grass which was only a few inches high with the dead wire grass forming the veil. Much of the ground was bare and studded with smooth round pebbles, left marooned about half an inch above the ground level by erosion. Everywhere there were huge black stumps, relics of a once majestic pine forest.

Behind me to the North about a quarter of a mile was what is call and “island”. This is a piece of high ground covered with a stand of high pines. These pine islands can be seen for miles across the oak flats. Just beyond the island was my father’s forty acre farm at the head of the swamp.

The cow trail I was following was typical of all cow trails in that it was about 12 inches wide and two or three inches deep. The trail kept edging closer to the swamp which made me wary because dry land snakes stay close to the edge of the swamp. Sure enough, there ahead and to my left was a short, thick, ugly ground rattler. He had been sunning himself until my intrusion. Three quick squeezes of the trigger finished him and I followed the trail on into the cool recesses of the swamp. As most cow trails do, this one lead to a clear, deep drinking hole. Finding a suitable cypress root, I seated myself with my back against the fuzzy bark of the root. Then, leaning my excuse for this excursion against one side of the root, I prepared to enjoy the ever fascinating, never changing quietude of nature in the swamp.

Never Trust a Female

By

Ed Rider (Age 12) 1944

I found her in the woods. She was lost and crying. There was nothing I could do but take her home with me and take care of her. She was very weak so I had to lift her gently in my arms and carry her cuddlesome form comfortably toward home. This was quite an ordeal. Several times I was tempted to lay her down and leave her.

But I finally made it to the house. I fed her and made her warm and did my best to get her into a good mood. I did get her to quit crying by showing her a little affection and by petting her a little. She was very responsive to this. She snuggled up with her head on my shoulder and was quite contented.

However, something had to be done. I could not keep her here at home. What would I tell my folks when they came home? As night approached I tried to get her to leave but she would not. I was really worried now. I did not have the heart to just throw her out on the road. Think what might happen to her! After a while I hit on the bright idea of hiding her from my folks. I carried her out to a shed used to keep sacks of fertilizer and made her a bed. This suited her quite well and took a load off my mind too.

Well, things worked out O.K. for a few days. No one ever went near the fertilizer shed so she was not discovered. Naturally I had to go check on her several times each night. I also had to take her food three or four times a day. Of course being in such close contact with her, and knowing that she depended on me, (for she had no one else) I became much attached to her.

At this point, a very tragic thing happened! One Saturday about a week after I had taken her into my loving care, I intended to make things legal. I was going to find the family she had left and get their permission. I would not think of keeping her without this permission. Just before I was about to leave I decided to show her around the farm. All my folks had gone to town again.  As we were walking in front of the house, a herd of goats went bounding through the woods across the road from us. She let out a loud bleat and ran after them. I called to her to no avail. She paid no attention. My baby goat was gone forever.

And that is gratitude for you! After I had set up nights and fed her out of a baby bottle and petted her and showed her every consideration, she just ups and runs off! It is something I will never forget and I will never trust another female!