The Sparrows Whisper

The Sparrows Whisper

A Mystery Novel By Mike Poppe

Cover Illustration by Mike Poppe

Copyright 2011 by Mike Poppe

Revised April, 21, 2021

Smashwords Edition

The Sparrows Whisper, is a work of fiction.

Chapter 01. Home Again

Four years....It was hard to believe.... In the spring of 1949, at the ripe old age of eighteen, I'd left my home town of Jubal, Arkansas, to serve in the Marines. Those four years included a cold and miserable two years of fighting in Korea. Most days, I felt like many of my bones were still half frozen from the killing cold of the Chosin Reservoir.

After I was released from active duty at the end of my enlistment, I made a long detour from California to Montana, to visit my folks. A few days later, I hitch hiked my way from Montana to St. Louis. After a couple of days of sight seeing in the city, I bought a used Chevy pickup, then headed south towards Jubal. Driving at night, it was after two in the morning when I turned right off the highway onto the main street of Jubal, drove across the railroad tracks, and then down into the deserted downtown area. From there, I eased my truck to the right, parked diagonally in front of the town park, then turned off the engine. Grabbing my jacket off the seat and wadding it into a ball, I used it as a pillow by slipping it between the side window and my head. In less than ten minutes, I was sleeping in my home town for the first time in four years.

My sleep came to an end when the morning sun came pouring through my windshield. When I looked around, I saw only a couple of other cars in the downtown area. More than likely they were store personnel getting things ready for the morning opening. After rolling my side window down, I reached into my shirt pocket, pulled out a cigarette then fired up my first of the new day. After a few drags off the camel cigarette, I turned the key, hit the starter button and listened to the motor spring to life. Shifting into reverse, I eased out on the clutch as I backed out of the parking spot, before heading north on main street. With no other vehicles moving on the street, I eased along very slowly, taking the time to look over the stores and shops. Actually, I don't suppose it was much of a trip. After you crossed over the railroad tracks from the south, the business district was only about two and a half blocks long. When I reached the end of town, just past the two funeral homes, I made a U turn, then headed back towards the highway.

Jessie's Esso service station sat at the corner of main, and the highway. He had always been one of the first places to open up in the mornings, so I wasn't at all surprised to see his truck in front, and the lights on inside, when I turned in and parked. The front door was unlocked, so I stepped inside. Jess was busy setting up the cash register.

What's a guy got to do to get some service around this two bit town anyway?

His head popped up in a flash, prepared to give me what for, but his irritation quickly changed to a smile of recognition.

Well, I'll be dog gone. John David Shannon. I didn't know if we would ever see you around these parts again. You home for good, or just visiting?

We shook hands as I answered his question. Tell you the truth Jess, I really don't know. I'm a civilian again, and for the first time in four years, I don't have a job, a normal routine, or someone to tell me what to do. Basically, I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do from here on out. I drove down from St. Louis last night, got here about two this morning, then I slept in my truck by the park. You mind if I use your bathroom to brush my teeth and get cleaned up a bit?

Not a bit. You remember where it's at I reckon. Still there in the same place.

When I walked back into the office after cleaning up, Jessie was on the phone talking to someone about a problem with their car. I waved, said, Thanks Jess, then headed back downtown.

When I turned into the parking spot and nosed my truck against the concrete sidewalk in front of Wanda's Cafe, the inside lights were on. Then I saw someone's hand turn the sign in the window from CLOSED to OPEN.

Wanda heard the door open, and without looking up from tending to paperwork, she called out. Good morning. I'll be with you in just a second. Sit where you like.

No thanks, I replied. I was just wondering if you could tell me where a feller could find something decent to eat in this town.

Without raising her head, Wanda fired back. What's the point? After four years of eating Marine Corps chow, you wouldn't know good food if you had it. Then, she tossed aside her paperwork, walked over, and gave me a really big hug. Welcome home John David! Did you just get in?

Early this morning. I just caught some sleep in my truck. How have you been Wanda?

She grabbed my arm with one hand, and a tray with a pot of coffee, and a coffee cup in the other, then escorted me to a booth right across from the kitchen. Well, if you would have written me a few letters, like you promised to do, you would know that I'm doing all right. Can't complain. My health's been good, I've got more than enough work to keep me occupied, and somehow, I manage to get the bills paid every month.

As I watched her pour my coffee, I inquired. Can you fry me up some sausage and make me some biscuits and gravy? I have to say that Marine Corps chow is pretty good, but I haven't had any decent biscuits and gravy since the last time I ate here.

You bet, she answered, then she kissed me on the cheek. Good to have you back, safe and sound. I worried some about you. Then she turned and headed to the kitchen.

As I relaxed with coffee and a cigarette, I thought about how much I had missed Wanda. She had always been sort of an older sister/second mother to me. One thing I'd known for many years, was if I wanted to know what she thought about something, all I had to do, was ask. Wanda didn't pull any punches, or sugar coat anything. She told you what she thought, and what she believed to be the truth.

As people came into the cafe and recognized me, they stopped by, welcomed me home, and talked for a bit. As a result, breakfast took a lot longer than I had anticipated. When I did finish, I drank the last of my coffee, tossed a tip on the table, then headed for the cash register. Wanda saw me coming, and was at the register when I got there. When I reached for my wallet, she picked up my bill.

Before we settle this, please tell me that you didn't come here without going by and checking on your folks.

I laughed. Relax Wanda. I reckon I've picked up a few rough edges over the last four years, but not that rough. Sure. I made it a point to make a stop in Montana. Between the church and the school PTA, Mom keeps busier that she probably should. Dad divides his time between speaking at the FFA meetings, and fishing in a nearby trout stream. They both sent their love and best wishes to you.

Her face covered with a smile, Wanda ripped my bill apart and dropped it in the trash can. This one's on me John David. I reckon someone who's been away for four years and done what you've done, sure has a free breakfast coming. I suppose you'll be staying at your old place?

Sure. If it's still standing.

It is. I don't know abut the inside, but the outside, other than maybe a little paint, looks just like it did before you left. Look, we've got to find some time and sit down and catch up, but right now I've got customers to take care of. Talk to you later.

Once outside, I decided to do something I had been wanting to do for a long time. I walked the entire downtown area, side streets and all. It was a good morning for walking. The sky was, with the exception of a couple of small clouds drifting to the north, clear and blue. As I walked, I stopped and talked for a minute or two with the few people I ran across.

When I reached Murrell's Drug Store, I walked inside and said Hello to Bill Murrell, who was working behind the counter. Bill grew up with my folks, and I'd spent a fair number of days fishing with him and my dad. We talked for about ten minutes, then I bought a bottle of Dr. Pepper, and told told Bill that I'd see him later.

Leaning against one of the support posts for the overhead awning that covered the sidewalk in front of Murrell's Drug, I smiled as I thought about my concerns over the changes I might find on my return to Jubal. As I looked around town, I was reminded that in northeastern Arkansas, change still came very slowly. The buildings were the same, and the people seemed to be going about the same daily routines they had been doing as long as I could remember. There was something very reassuring about that.

With no clear notion of what direction I wanted my future to take, I had returned to my home town to get myself grounded, I had decisions to make. Of two things I was certain:

A. Farming was not an option. My tour in the Marine Corps had convinced me that there were options more to my liking than working in the cotton and bean fields of Northeast Arkansas.

B. An equally unacceptable choice was electing to labor in the factories of the cities like St. Louis and Detroit.

The Marine Corps had given me ninety days during which I could return at my rank of Sergeant. Should I not find anything in civilian life that provided an interesting future, returning to the Corps was very much a viable option. About a year before my enlistment ran out, my folks inherited a ranch in Montana from my grandmother on my mother's side. Unable to afford to take care of both places, and with no other children to consider, they sold the home place to me for what they still owed. After that, I wrote the attorney and instructed him to lease the farmland, but to hold disposition on the house until I returned home.

* * *

After lunch, I decided to go out and take a look at the old home place. As I drove north out of town, Main Street became a gravel road as The Dairy Bar, a popular summer time ice cream and hamburger stand, flashed by on my right. Five miles out of town, I made a left hand turn, then drove across the bridge that spanned the creek I'd used as a playground as a child. My home was perhaps another hundred feet on the left.

I parked in the yard, then walked down to the creek, which was mostly a dry creek bed this time of year. The memories of the times spent exploring and swimming in this creek had remained with me during my time in the Marines, especially during my time in Korea. After taking a look at the barn, I made a quick tour of the house, inside and out. Considering it had been vacant for a year, I was pleased to find it in better condition than I'd expected.

As I was inspecting the front porch to see if any work needed to be done to it, I saw Ralph Gentry coming down the road on his tractor. Ralph had leased my farm ground this year. I walked out to the edge of the road and waved as Ralph approached. He pulled to the side of the road, and killed the engine.

Hi John David, good to see you back home.

Good to see you again too Ralph.

How are your folks doing? He inquired.

I stopped by on my way home, and they are both doing pretty good. They stay busy, but getting away from farming at their age, was a good move.

He removed his faded green cap, ran his fingers through his hair one time, then slipped it back on his head. That's good to hear. Listen, I hate to start talking business right as you get home, but my lease on your ground is about up, and if you don't intent to extend it, I need to be looking around for some other land.

Ralph, if you want to lease it for another year, that's fine by me. I don't know what I'm going to do long term, but go ahead and count on another year, at least.

I appreciate that, he answered. Well, I gotta get to work. Stop by the house one evening, and have supper with us. Miranda and the kids would love to see you. That said, he started his Allis Chalmers tractor, then pulled across the road and began his days work.

Returning to the barn, I climbed up into the hay loft, and as I had hoped, I found a cane pole