More American than Apple Pie
Chad Hague
January 02, 2006
?Well I aint sure when I had my first marshmella moon pie but I think I ate five! It was sometime before papa went away-them were the happy days! Papa and me, we would go fishin? real early in the mornin?, ?cause that?s when they were mighty hungry! Well I got hungry right ?long with them fish so we brought a box of marshmella moon pies.
One day me and Bobby was goin? toad huntin? in the river. We took us a box of marshmella moon pies out of the cupboard mama had stored away! She never did find out ?bout that but I think our tummies punished us ?nuff.
Papa and me had lots a fun that year. We went down to the 4th of July picnic in Lowndes county. All the other boys were chasin? the girls and bobbin? for apples; but papa and me-we were playin? baseball. I think I ate more dirt than marshmella moon pies by stoppin? papa?s grounders, but I had a lot a wrappers to show for them pies!
Well summer seemed to fly right on by and school came in no time! In them days papa and me played catch almost every day ?or whenever papa could get free. One day I waited for hours after school but papa never came out. When I got home Papa said w?d be movin? somewhere out west.
I can?t say I liked California much. There was all kinds a? people talkin? bad ?bout the army. Papa tol? me not to worry; ?After all we?re soljers and soljers are strong!? he would say. One day Papa, mama and me got to meet the gov?nor. He had lots of pictures and stories of the ol? days. He gave me a big jar of jelly beans and I gave him a bite of my marshmella moon pie! Papa tol? me that nice man used to be some famous actor but aint so sure ?bout that now.
One afternoon I waited for papa with my ball, glove and 4 marshmella moon pies. ?I?ll be there just as soon as I can break away?, he said. Papa never came out and when I went home mama?s eyes were all swollen like she?d been cryin?. Papa said the war was esclatin? and he?d be leavin? in a couple of days. I hugged him and he said ?We?re soljers remember!? I cried out loud but he tol? me nothin? could be done. ?Orders are orders?, he said. That night we shared our last marshmella moon pie!
Papa wrote us three times a week from Vietnam. I never read them letters myself. Mama?d read ?em to just before prayer time at night. I didn?t see mama much in them days. She was always in her bedroom watchin? t.v. news ?bout the war. One time it was showin? an ol? soljer in a wheel chair comin? off the plane and there was all sorts a people carryin? signs and throwin? tomatoes and spittin? on that ol? soljer. I remember that papa tol? me to be brave. ?After all we?re soljers!? he would say. Mama would watch the t.v. for hours. She?d only call me in to ask me if I got my homework done. ?Yes maam? I?d tell her. I think she always hoped to see papa comin? home wavin? his li?l American flag while people patted him on the back sayin? they?re happy he?s safe. I wondered when he?d come home. ?Maybe by Christmas?, mama said. When mama was too tired from cryin? she?d send me to my room with a box of marshmella moon pies.
One day when it was rainin? cats and dogs outside and while I waited with my bat and ball I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and saw two men dressed kinda ?ficial like. One was dressed like a preacher with a bible in one hand and a bunch a flowers in the other. The other was dressed as a soljer with lots a colored ribbons on his shirt. He was holdin? a folded American flag. ?Hello there son is your mother here?? Well mama came out all tears and sent me to my room after I?d stuffed my pockets with marshmella moon pies.
Well I waited for hours when mama opened my door. She tol? me papa wouldn?t make it in time for Christmas. In fact he wouldn?t be comin? home! Mama sat up with me ?til I cried myself to sleep. That next mornin? you can bet what I had for breakfast!"
copyright Chad Hague 2006
One day me and Bobby was goin? toad huntin? in the river. We took us a box of marshmella moon pies out of the cupboard mama had stored away! She never did find out ?bout that but I think our tummies punished us ?nuff.
Papa and me had lots a fun that year. We went down to the 4th of July picnic in Lowndes county. All the other boys were chasin? the girls and bobbin? for apples; but papa and me-we were playin? baseball. I think I ate more dirt than marshmella moon pies by stoppin? papa?s grounders, but I had a lot a wrappers to show for them pies!
Well summer seemed to fly right on by and school came in no time! In them days papa and me played catch almost every day ?or whenever papa could get free. One day I waited for hours after school but papa never came out. When I got home Papa said w?d be movin? somewhere out west.
I can?t say I liked California much. There was all kinds a? people talkin? bad ?bout the army. Papa tol? me not to worry; ?After all we?re soljers and soljers are strong!? he would say. One day Papa, mama and me got to meet the gov?nor. He had lots of pictures and stories of the ol? days. He gave me a big jar of jelly beans and I gave him a bite of my marshmella moon pie! Papa tol? me that nice man used to be some famous actor but aint so sure ?bout that now.
One afternoon I waited for papa with my ball, glove and 4 marshmella moon pies. ?I?ll be there just as soon as I can break away?, he said. Papa never came out and when I went home mama?s eyes were all swollen like she?d been cryin?. Papa said the war was esclatin? and he?d be leavin? in a couple of days. I hugged him and he said ?We?re soljers remember!? I cried out loud but he tol? me nothin? could be done. ?Orders are orders?, he said. That night we shared our last marshmella moon pie!
Papa wrote us three times a week from Vietnam. I never read them letters myself. Mama?d read ?em to just before prayer time at night. I didn?t see mama much in them days. She was always in her bedroom watchin? t.v. news ?bout the war. One time it was showin? an ol? soljer in a wheel chair comin? off the plane and there was all sorts a people carryin? signs and throwin? tomatoes and spittin? on that ol? soljer. I remember that papa tol? me to be brave. ?After all we?re soljers!? he would say. Mama would watch the t.v. for hours. She?d only call me in to ask me if I got my homework done. ?Yes maam? I?d tell her. I think she always hoped to see papa comin? home wavin? his li?l American flag while people patted him on the back sayin? they?re happy he?s safe. I wondered when he?d come home. ?Maybe by Christmas?, mama said. When mama was too tired from cryin? she?d send me to my room with a box of marshmella moon pies.
One day when it was rainin? cats and dogs outside and while I waited with my bat and ball I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and saw two men dressed kinda ?ficial like. One was dressed like a preacher with a bible in one hand and a bunch a flowers in the other. The other was dressed as a soljer with lots a colored ribbons on his shirt. He was holdin? a folded American flag. ?Hello there son is your mother here?? Well mama came out all tears and sent me to my room after I?d stuffed my pockets with marshmella moon pies.
Well I waited for hours when mama opened my door. She tol? me papa wouldn?t make it in time for Christmas. In fact he wouldn?t be comin? home! Mama sat up with me ?til I cried myself to sleep. That next mornin? you can bet what I had for breakfast!"
copyright Chad Hague 2006
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