Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe

MAY 11, 1986

Evelyn Couch opened the plastic Baggie full of carrot sticks and celery she had brought for herself and offered them to her friend. Mrs. Threadgoode declined, but went on eating her orange-marshmallow peanuts. “No thank you, honey, raw food just doesn’t sit well with me. Why’re you eating raw food, anyway?”

“It’s Weight Watchers, well, kind of. I can eat anything I want as long as it doesn’t have fat or sugar in it.”

“Are you trying to slim down again?”

“Yes. I’m going to try. But it’s hard. I’ve gotten so fat.”

“Well, you do what you want to, but I still say you look fine to me.”

“Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, you’re sweet to say so, but I’ve gotten up to a size sixteen.”

“You don’t look heavy to me. Essie Rue … now, she was heavyset. But then, she was always inclined in that direction, ever since she was a little girl. But I guess at one time she got up to well over two hundred pounds.”

“She did?”

“Oh yes, but she never let it bother her, and she always dressed up in the best-looking outfits and always had a little flower in her hair to match. Everybody used to say that Essie Rue looked like she had just stepped out of a bandbox, and she had the cutest little hands and feet. Everybody in Birmingham used to talk about what cute little feet she had when she got her job playing the mighty Wurlitzer …”

“The what?”

“The mighty Wurlitzer organ. They had it down at the Alabama Theater for years. They said it was the largest organ in the south, and I believe they were right. We’d all get on the streetcar and go over and see the picture show. I’d always go when Ginger Rogers was playing. She was my favorite player. That girl is the most talented one they got out there in Hollywood. I don’t even care to see a picture if she’s not in it … she can do it all: dance, sing, act … what have you …

“But anyhow, between shows, the lights would go down and you’d hear this man’s voice saying, ‘And now, the Alabama Theater is proud to present …’ he’d always say that, ‘proud to present’ Miss Essie Rue Limeway, performing on the mighty Wurlitzer. And from far away you’d hear this music … and then, all of a sudden, here would come this huge organ, rising up from the floor, and there would be Essie Rue, playing her theme song, ‘I’m in Love with the Man in the Moon.’ And all the spotlights would hit her and the sound of that organ would fill the theater and shake the rafters. Then she’d turn around and smile and never miss a note; and move into another song. Before you knew it, she’d be playing ‘Stars Fell on Alabama’ or ‘Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries,’ And her tiny little feet would just fly over those pedals like butterflies! She wore ankle straps that she ordered especially from Loveman’s department store.

“You’d think she’d put weight on everywhere, but she never did, just her body.

“Everybody has their good points, and she knew hers and played them up. That’s why I hate to see you so down on yourself. I was telling Mrs. Otis the other day, I said, ‘Evelyn Couch has got the prettiest skin I ever saw,’ I said. ‘She looks like her mother has just kept her wrapped up in cotton all her life.’ ”

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Threadgoode.”

“Well, it’s true. You don’t have a wrinkle on you. I also told Mrs. Otis that I thought you ought to think about selling some of that Mary Kay cosmetics. With your skin and personality, why I bet you could get yourself a pink Cadillac in no time. My neighbor Mrs. Hartman has a niece who sells it and she made a bundle, and Mary Kay gave her a pink Cadillac as a bonus. And she’s not half as pretty as you are.”

Evelyn said, “Oh Mrs. Threadgoode, thank you for saying that, but I’m too old to start anything like that. They want young women.”

“Evelyn Couch, how can you say that, you are still a young woman. Forty-eight years old is just a baby! You’ve got half your life left to live yet! Mary Kay doesn’t care how old you are. She’s no spring chicken herself. Now, if it was me and I had that skin and was your age, I’d make a try at that Cadillac. Of course, I’d have to get me a driver’s license, but I’d try for it anyway.

“Just think, Evelyn, if you live to be as old as I am, you’ve got thirty-seven more years to go …”

Evelyn laughed. “What does it feel like to be eighty-six, Mrs. Threadgoode?”

“Well, I don’t feel any different. Like I say, it just creeps up on you. One day you’re young and the next day your bosoms and your chin drops and you’re wearing a rubber girdle. But you don’t know you’re old. Course, I can tell when I look in the mirror … sometimes it nearly scares me to death. My neck looks just like old crepe paper, and I’ve got so many wrinkles and there’s nothing you can do about it. Oh, I used to have something from Avon for wrinkles, but it didn’t last but about an hour and they all came back, so I finally stopped fooling with it. I don’t even put on a face anymore, just a little lotion and eyebrow pencil, so you can tell I’ve got eyebrows … they’re white now, honey … and I’m full of liver spots.” She looked at her hands. “You wonder where all those little fellows come from.” Then she laughed. “I’m even to old to make a good picture. Francis wanted to snap a picture of me and Mrs. Otis, but I hid my head. Said I might break the camera.”

Evelyn asked if she ever got lonesome out there.

“Well, yes, sometimes I do. Of course, all my people are gone … but once in a while, some of the ones from the church come to see me, but it’s just hello and goodbye. That’s just the way it is, hello and goodbye.

“Sometimes I look at my picture of Cleo and little Albert and wonder what they’re up to … and dream about the old days.”

She smiled at Evelyn. “That’s what I’m living on now, honey, dreams, dreams of what I used to do.”