I drove over to Charlie’s Truck Stop this past week to pick up a few things I needed around the house and to visit with Jake. When I arrived, Jake was out front leaning against one of those new pumps that replaced the old pumps that had served the store so well for all those many years. Of course, nothing lasts forever. Those old pumps had broken down for the last time and there were no longer parts to be had that would cause them to pump gas again. Reluctantly, Jake had purchased the new pumps that now stood in place of the old ones. They pumped gas just fine, but they still did not look right standing there in front of the store. I parked over to the side of the store and climbed out of the car. Jake looked over toward me and asked if I needed any gas, though I thought my intentions were made pretty plain by the location at which I had chosen to park. I told him I still had almost half a tank from last week. I had been home most of the week working at my computer. I had only made a couple calls on clients.
My friend Bob Havershold was sitting on one of the two wood benches that frame the front door of Charlie’s. The Reverend Johnson was holding the other bench down. Bob’s daughter, Cheriee, had her interest arrested by a frog making its way through the weeds over near the American Elm Jake had planted in early spring. At sight of me, she jumped up and chirped, “Daddy found another ‘possum last week!”
It was almost two years past Bob’s wife, Gracie, went out back of the house after a heavy rain and found a baby ‘possum that had become lost from its mother. Gracie brought the “possum inside and sent Bob off to the store to buy goat’s milk which she warmed just like for a baby and fed the ‘possum from a small bottle. Cheriee was fascinated by the baby ‘possum and the Haversholds suddenly had a house guest. Cheriee named the baby ‘possum Cleavie. Cleavie was a sensation around Soagie. Gracie even took Cleavie to Wal-Mart once and he nestled in her purse and slept while Gracie shopped. Cleavie soon tired of the goat’s milk and developed a taste for dog food and vegetables. He loved fresh cooked hamburger and hot dogs, but he had no interest in food once it became stale. When Jake heard of Cleavie’s preference for fresh food, he thought it odd. Most of Cleavie’s kind are happy enough to get day old road kill. That was when Cheriee suggested ‘possum kind eat what they can get. If they had access to refrigerators, they would likely prefer fresh meet rather than what they can find road side.
The Haversholds prepared a nest in an outbuilding in the fall so that Cleavie could grow a winter coat. They left an opening to allow him to go as he pleased. He stayed in his nest for several weeks until he came up missing one morning. The Haversholds decided Cleavie had departed for good, though they left an opening for his return. He was back in several days and showed no signs of leaving again. Then one day Bob found a dead ‘possum road side and recognized Cleavie by a scar on his nose. He had apparently ventured out the night before and was hit by a car as he made his way back home. Bob buried their friend out behind Gracie’s flower bed. Cheriee has taken a special interest in ‘possum creatures ever since.
What had excited Cheriee this day and the news she could hardly wait to tell me, Bob had awakened about two in the morning and decided on a sandwich. Then, because it was a nice night with a full moon out, Bob decided to walk while he munched his sandwich. He was walking up the road with his sandwich about half gone when he heard a sniffing sound. When Cleavie was a guest, the Haversholds could never convince him to come to the sound of his name. But, if they were very quiet, they could hear him sniffing about and locate him by his sniffing sound. The sound Bob was hearing was the same sniffing. Bob looked about and saw a ‘possum coming his way across the shadowed road. Carefully, Bob bent down as the ‘possum came up to his leg. The ‘possum sniffed at Bob’s leg and Bob remembered how well Cleavie had liked turkey meat. Bob took the turkey from his sandwich and held it before the ‘possum. The wild ‘possum sniffed the meat and took a bite of it. As the ‘possum began to make a meal, Bob reached carefully to scratch the ‘possum behind his ears. Soon as Bob’s fingers touched the ‘possum, he jumped back. Bob moved his hand away and extended the turkey meat. The ‘possum came back to the meat and ate the rest from Bob’s hand. After he had finished, he sniffed Bob’s fingers. Bob was a little concerned the ‘possum might mistake the fingers for more food, but the ‘possum apparently decided the food was all gone. His interest in Bob was terminated. Still sniffing his way, the ‘possum made a path toward the edge of the road and was soon lost in the dark shadows.
Bob stood for a while watching before he continued his walk. He would never have believed a wild ‘possum, unaccustomed to human presence, would come up to him and take food from his hand. He was amazed at the thought. Bob walked a while longer, then returned home and to bed. Gracie mumbled something as he scooted under the light covers. Bob tried to tell her what had happened, but she had no interest. Next morning it was a different matter. Both Gracie and Cheriee wanted to know about the hungry ‘possum. They went out to the road where the ‘possum had come up to Bob. There were no ‘possum sighs to be found. That night, Cheriee passed hours out by the road in search of a ‘possum and listening for sniffing sounds. She has been there a few times since and left turkey scraps which have been taken by something by next morning, but Cheriee has found no signs of any ‘possum. Still, Cheriee is not giving up. She thinks that some day soon, if she does not abandon hope, a ‘possum will come out of the shadows to sniff her leg and she will feed it fresh turkey meat from her own small hand.
END
