Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe

AUGUST 4, 1928

It had been two years since Idgie had seen Ruth, but every once in a while, Idgie went over to Valdosta on Wednesdays, because that was the day that Frank Bennett would come into town and go to the barbershop. She would usually hang around Puckett’s Drug Store, because she had a good view of the front door of the barbershop and could see Frank sitting in the barber’s chair.

She wished she could hear what he was saying, but it was enough just to see him. He was her only link to Ruth, and as long as she saw him, she knew that Ruth was still there.

This Wednesday, Mrs. Puckett, the thin little old lady in black-framed glasses, was busy as usual, moving around the store, arranging things as if life depended on everything being neat and in its place.

Idgie was sitting at the counter, looking across the street; watching.

“That Frank Bennett sure does talk a lot, doesn’t he? A real friendly fella, huh?”

Mrs. Puckett was on the first step of a ladder, arranging jars of Stillman’s Freckle Cream, her back to Idgie. “Some might say so, I guess.”

Idgie heard a strange tone in her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I just said, some may think so, that’s all.” She came down off the stepladder.

“Don’t you think so?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Don’t you think he’s friendly?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t think he was friendly, did I? I guess he’s friendly enough.”

Mrs. Puckett was now poking at the boxes of Carter’s Liver Pills on the counter. Idgie got off the stool and went over to her.

“What do you mean, friendly enough? Do you know something about him? Has he ever not been friendly?”

“No, he’s always pleasant enough,” she said, arranging the boxes in a row. “It’s just that I don’t like any man that’ll beat his wife.”

Idgie’s heart went cold.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“How do you know that?”

Mrs. Puckett was now busy restacking the tins of toothpaste. “Oh, Mr. Puckett’s had to go out there and take that poor little thing medicine—more than once, I’ll tell you. He’s blackened her eye and knocked her down the stairs, and once, he broke her arm. She teaches Sunday School and you never met a nicer person.” She moved on to torment the Sal Hepatica bottles. “That’s what liquor will do to a man, make them do crazy things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. Mr. Puckett and I are Temperance, ourselves …”

Idgie was out the door and didn’t hear the last sentence.

The barber was brushing off the back of Frank’s neck with sweet-smelling talcum powder when Idgie burst into the shop. She was in a rage. She stuck her finger in Frank’s face. “LISTEN, YOU MEALY-MOUTHED, MOLE-FACED, GLASS-EYED SON OF A BITCHING BASTARD! IF YOU EVER HIT RUTH AGAIN, I’LL KILL YOU! YOU BASTARD! I SWEAR I’LL CUT YOUR DAMN HEART OUT! YOU HEAR ME, YOU ASSHOLE BASTARD!”

And with that, she took her arm and knocked everything off the marble counter. Dozens of bottles of shampoo, hair tonics, hair oils, shaving lotions, and powders crashed to the floor. Before they knew what had hit them, Idgie was back in her car, screeching out of town.

The barber stood there with his mouth open. It had happened so fast. He looked at Frank in the mirror and said, “That boy must be crazy.”

The minute Idgie got home to the Wagon Wheel Fishing Lodge, she told Eva what had happened, and was still in a rage, vowing that she was going back over there and get him.

Eva listened carefully. “You’re gonna go over there and get yourself killed, is what you’re gonna do. Now, you cain’t go interfering with somebody’s marriage, that’s their business. Honey, there are things between a man and a woman that you don’t go fooling with.”

Poor Idgie was in agony and asked Eva, “Why does she stay with him? What’s the matter with her?”

“That’s not any of your business. Now honey, you have to forget all about it. She is a grown woman and she is doing what she wants, as much as you don’t like to hear it. You’re still a baby, sugar, and if that man is as mean as you say, you could get yourself hurt.”

“I don’t care what you say, Eva, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch someday, you wait and see.”

Eva poured Idgie another drink. “No you’re not. You’re not gonna kill anyone and you’re not going back over there. You promise?”

Idgie promised. Both of them knew she was lying.