Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe

JULY 18, 1924

Ruth had been in Whistle Stop for about two months, and this Saturday morning, someone knocked at her bedroom window at 6 A.M. Ruth opened her eyes and saw Idgie sitting in the chinaberry tree and motioning for her to open the window.

Ruth got up, half asleep. “What are you up so early for?”

“You promised we could go on a picnic today.”

“I know, but does it have to be this early? It’s Saturday.”

“Please. You promised you would. If you don’t come right now, I’ll jump off the roof and kill myself. Then what would you do?”

Ruth laughed. “Well, what about Patsy Ruth and Mildred and Essie Rue, aren’t they going to come with us?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think we should ask them?”

“No. Please, I want you to myself. Please. I want to show you something.”

“Idgie, I don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

“Oh, you won’t hurt their feelings. They don’t want to come anyhow. I asked them already, and they want to stay home in case their old stupid boyfriends come by.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure,” she lied.

“What about Ninny and Julian?”

“They said they’ve got things to do today. Come on, Ruth, Sipsey’s already made us a lunch, just for the two of us. If you don’t come, I’ll jump and then you’ll have my death on your hands. I’ll be dead in my grave and you’ll wish you’d have come to just one little picnic.”

“Well, all right. Let me get dressed, at least.”

“Hurry up! Don’t get all dressed up, just come on out—I’ll meet you in the car.”

“Are we going in the car?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Okay.”

Idgie had failed to mention that she had sneaked into Julian’s room at 5 A.M. and had stolen the keys to his Model T out of his pants pockets, and it was extremely important to get going before he woke up.

They drove way out to this place that Idgie had found years ago, by Double Springs Lake, where there was a waterfall that flowed into this crystal clear stream that was filled with beautiful brown and gray stones, as round and smooth as eggs.

Idgie spread the blanket out and got the basket out of the car. She was being very mysterious.

Finally, she said, “Ruth, if I show you something, do you swear that you will never tell another living soul?”

“Show me what? What is it?”

“Do you swear? You won’t tell?”

“I swear. What is it?”

“I’ll show you.”

Idgie reached into the picnic basket and got out an empty glass jar, said, “Let’s go,” and they walked about a mile back up into the woods.

Idgie pointed to a tree and said, “There it is!”

“There is what?”

“That big oak tree over there.”

“Oh.”

She took Ruth by the hand and walked her over to the left, about one hundred feet away, behind a tree, and said, “Now, Ruth, you stay right here, and no matter what happens, don’t move.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Never mind, you just watch me, all right? And be quiet. Don’t make any noise, whatever you do.”

Idgie, who was barefoot, started walking over to the big oak tree and about halfway there, turned to see if Ruth was watching. When she got about ten feet from the tree, she made sure again that Ruth was still watching. Then she did the most amazing thing. She very slowly tiptoed up to it, humming very softly, and stuck her hand with the jar in it, right in the hole in the middle of the oak.

All of a sudden, Ruth heard a sound like a buzz saw, and the sky went black as hordes of angry bees swarmed out of the hole.

In seconds, Idgie was covered from head to foot with thousands of bees. Idgie just stood there, and in a minute, carefully pulled her hand out of the tree and started walking slowly back toward Ruth, still humming. By the time she had gotten back, almost all the bees had flown away and what had been a completely black figure was now Idgie, standing there, grinning from ear to ear, with a jar of wild honey.

She held it up, offering the jar to Ruth. “Here you are, madame, this is for you.”

Ruth, who had been scared out of her wits, slid down the tree onto the ground, and burst into tears. “I thought you were dead! Why did you do that? You could have been killed!”

Idgie said, “Oh, don’t cry. I’m sorry. Here, don’t you want the honey? I got it just for you … please don’t cry. It’s all right, I do it all the time. I never get stung. Honest. Here, let me help you up, you’re getting yourself all dirty.”

She handed Ruth the old blue bandanna she had in her overalls pocket. Ruth was still shaky, but she got up and blew her nose and wiped off her dress.

Idgie tried to cheer her up. “Just think, Ruth, I never did it for anybody else before. Now nobody in the whole world knows I can do that but you. I just wanted for us to have a secret together, that’s all.”

Ruth didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, Ruth, please don’t be mad at me.”

“Mad?” Ruth put her arms around Idgie and said, “Oh Idgie, I’m not mad at you. It’s just that I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. I really don’t.”

Idgie’s heart started pounding so hard it almost knocked her over.

After they had eaten the chicken and potato salad and all the biscuits and most of the honey, Ruth leaned back against the tree and Idgie put her head in her lap. “You know, Ruth, I’d kill for you. Anybody that would ever hurt you, I’d kill them in a minute and never think twice about it.”

“Oh Idgie, that’s a terrible thing to say.”

“No it isn’t. I’d rather kill for love than kill for hate. Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I don’t think we should ever kill for any reason.”

“All right, then, I’d die for you. How about that? Don’t you think somebody could die for love?”

“No.”

“The Bible says Jesus Christ did.”

“That’s different.”

“No it isn’t. I could die right now, and I wouldn’t mind. I’d be the only corpse with a smile on my face.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I could have been killed today, couldn’t I have?”

Ruth took her hand and smiled down at her. “My Idgie’s a bee charmer.”

“Is that what I am?”

“That’s what you are. I’ve heard there were people who could do it, but I’d never seen one before today.”

“Is it bad?”

“Nooo. It’s wonderful. Don’t you know that?”

“Naw, I thought it was crazy or something.”

“No—it’s a wonderful thing to be.”

Ruth leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re an old bee charmer, Idgie Threadgoode, that’s what you are …”

Idgie smiled back at her and looked up into the clear blue sky that reflected in her eyes, and she was as happy as anybody who is in love in the summertime can be.