BLANCHARD
Grannie was washing dishes at the sink looking out the window. She leaned forward and said, “Delbert......here comes Blanchard." My ears perked up, who was that? Mom came rushing into the kitchen,
“Blanchard? Really? He still comes by?”
“Well he hasn’t been by lately, but I would swear this looks like it could be his truck.”
It was many years before Papa heard from his cousin. My grandparents, Maggie and Delbert had gotten married, moved from Arkansas to Oklahoma and had four children before they saw Blanchard again.
Blanchard had moved on with his life. He had a line of tools, odds and ends that he sold off his truck from town to town. He had a flat bed truck, where on the bed he had built a cabin, where he lived. Behind the cabin was his collection of goods to sell.
Everyone had been concerned about what had happened to him. One dusty day, he drove up to the old victorian house where Maggie, Delbert, their kids and a host of relatives lived. He was quiet and didn’t comment about the wedding, or what had happened but rather proceded to show Delbert some of the things he was selling that might be useful in the dairy. In the midst of the Depression, with no money for extra things, Papa bartered with him, giving Blanchard some things he no longer used for the new tools.
Blanchard stayed a couple of days visiting with everyone and enjoying being close to family again. During the Depression Delbert and Maggie always had several extra families staying with them who had fallen on hard times in the House on the Hill. My mom and her cousins especially enjoyed all the attention Blanchard gave them, he had no job to go to, no cows to milk so they got his undivided attention. When he got ready to leave he called the kids over, pulled out a roll of bills bigger than his fist and gave each one a dollar. Then he climbed in his strange truck and took off to peddle his goods. No one ever knew when he would come rolling into town again. Sometimes months, sometimes years, Blanchard would always show up in a peculiar truck, to visit with family.
Thirty some years later, with Delbert and Maggie, living in a different house, on a different farm and their family now grown, Blanchard had found them again. A funny old flat bed truck with a cabin on the back, rumbled over the cattle guard, and headed up to the house.
Blanchard...yes, only he would have truck like that, “Delbert it’s your cousin Blanchard.”
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