CANNIN'

An acre of land with an old barn in the center separated our house from Grandma Helen’s, and the old barn belonged to Grandpa Jack. I should mention that Grandma Helen is not my grandmother, and Grandpa Jack is not my grandfather. Everyone probably thought it was an accident the frst time I called Helen “Grandma Helen” until I kept going and started calling Jack “Grandpa Jack,” more or less adopting them. Grandma Helen and Grandpa Jack owned our house, our land, the land between, the land around, and I think they owned the street, too. Teir last name was McCoy, and we lived on McCoy Road. No one told me otherwise, so I assumed they owned everything except the bamboo forest, which bordered one side of the house across the street. To this day, bamboo is the only thing I heard Grandpa Jack complain about.

My family moved in next door to the McCoys in mid-February that year. I would be nine years old in April, and my younger brother Dillon was fve until December. We moved because Dad took a new job opening a store in town, so we lef Birmingham and found ourselves in the countryside of Sand Mountain. It was quite a change, but Dad and Momma called it our fresh start. Tey were happy, I was content, and Dillon was too young to know the diference.

Dad and Momma let me “get adjusted” before putting me in school again, so I was free and out for two weeks. During that time, I took in everything and I guess I got adjusted. I liked our new house. It was much smaller than the one we had in Birmingham; so much so Momma couldn’t park her car in the garage for all the boxes lef still packed. But it had a real yard with no fences, lots of climbing trees, and a creek running through the back.

My two weeks of freedom passed quickly and somewhat uneventfully. It rained a lot because it was still winter, and Momma used to say Hell freezes over faster than Alabama in February. One afernoon, I sat on the front porch rail lamenting the rain when I saw an old yellow school bus pass our driveway and stop at the McCoys’ house. I glanced back into the house and made sure Momma was occupied before jumping from the railing and ran barefoot into the woods to get a peek.

Two stepped down from the bus and into the rain, one boy and one girl. Together they trudged through mud and arrived at Grandma Helen’s front door, kicking of their shoes before going inside.

Excitement swelled within me as I wandered back to our house. Momma was no longer occupied, so I was scolded and ordered to a warm shower. Later I told Dillon about the other boy and girl; he was so excited he danced around the room. It was a wild sort of dance that made me laugh myself into the foor.

I started school the following week, and life developed a cycle again. More rainy weeks passed before the sunny summer weeks arrived. March became April which disappeared into May, and it was June when we fnally met the boy and girl from the old yellow school bus: Cody and Jessie. Tat hot Saturday morning, Dillon and I woke early and fnished breakfast quickly. We ran across the street and into the bamboo forest Uncle Jack hated, gathering broken pieces of bamboo. Back at our house we fashioned them into spears. It was barely 9 o’clock, and already we were soaked in sweat. With homemade weapons in hand, we set out for our secret hideaway in Grandpa Jack’s old barn.

Cody and Jessie must have seen us from Grandma Helen’s as we ran from our house, to the bamboo forest, and toward the barn because they were waiting for us in the secret hideaway. I suppose the heat of the morning fnally caught me because my emotions leapt from surprise to a selfsh defense of property: “What are you doing here?”

Cody was the older of the two and the frst to respond, “I was gonna ask you the same thing. Who are you?” “Not tellin’,” tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Really, I was glad to meet them, but my temper had already won. Unafected by the unnecessary older-sibling tension Cody and I created, Dillon introduced everyone to each other – harmony was his way.

We learned that Cody and Jessie were Grandma Helen and Grandpa Jack’s real grandkids, and soon we were friends fghting of pretend villains and imagined dangers with bamboo spears. Meanwhile, sweat continued to pour from each of us, causing dirt and dust to collect anywhere it landed on our bodies.

We were defant to the summer heat, but we surrendered afer an hour or so. It was mid-morning when Dillon and I followed Cody and Jessie from the barn to Grandma Helen’s front steps, where she met us before we could even say hello. “I saw you comin’, so I went ahead and called your momma – told her you were here,” she remarked. “But none of you is steppin’ a foot in my house the way you are right now. Jack is gonna hose you of here in a minute.”

As she spoke we surveyed each other. Now in the sunlight, it appeared as though we hadn’t bathed in weeks. Dirt had caked our elbows and knees, smudged our faces, and clumped bits of our hair.

Grandpa Jack rounded the house; having been in the felds all morning, he too was covered in dirt and dust. Te sun cast a shadow beneath the bill of his John Deere cap and made it difcult to see his face from farther away, but the bill of his cap moved from us to Grandma Helen and then to her garden, where a wild array grew up from the earth. “Helen, I think it’s time we did some cannin’,” said Grandpa Jack in his low hum of a voice.

She turned toward the garden and her hands settled on her hips, “Well…I suppose you’re right. Tink we can fnd any help at the last minute?” She grinned, but Cody and Jessie sighed – they seemed to know what was coming. Dillon’s curiosity forced him to ask, “What’s cannin’?” “It’s preservin’ some of Helen’s garden, so we can eat from it all year long. You ever snapped green beans before?” replied Grandpa Jack.

Dillon shook his head slowly, while I conjured a mental image of someone snapping green beans between their fngers. Grandma Helen nodded her head toward Cody and Jessie who made their way toward the back of the house while she went inside. Ten Grandpa Jack put his hand on Dillon’s back and guided him toward the garden while I tagged along in wonder. Grandpa Jack knelt down by a leafy row of plants, lifing the foliage to reveal its green beans underneath. He then pinched one of the plant and handed it to Dillon. “Simple enough, huh?” he asked looking up at me; I nodded in agreement and Dillon concurred.

When I turned back toward the house, I noticed Grandma Helen had brought out sun hats and ball caps for each of us, as well as a huge pitcher of ice water with a few glasses. “Drink a glass or two before y’all get started,” she instructed, “Nobody needs to get sick in this heat.” Dillon and I guzzled our water, then Grandma Helen presented us with sliced apples and homemade bread to munch on.

As we snacked, Cody and Jessie returned from the back of the house with six massive buckets. Tey handed the buckets to Grandpa Jack. He rinsed the buckets of while Cody and Jessie joined us in fnishing of the water, apples, and bread. When Grandpa Jack fnished the buckets he handed one to each of us, one to Grandma Helen, and kept one for himself. Te McCoys led us out to the garden, and so the picking began.

Tere was a rhythm to the pinching and tossing. All across the yard you could hear the sof thud as we dropped green beans into the buckets. About halfway through picking Dillon struggled to move his bucket along, so he lef it behind and ran back and forth from plant to bucket – adding to the rhythm of things.

Tere were three rows of green beans, which were fnished of easily between all six of us. Afer the picking was done, we made our way to the porch where we dropped of our buckets. Cody carried Dillon’s for him, which I was grateful for as I struggled carrying mine.

We removed our shoes and took turns letting Grandpa Jack hose us of, and the cool water revived our spirits. Ten Grandpa Jack handed us each a towel to pat ourselves dry. Meanwhile, Grandma Helen moved the buckets inside. Finally, we were dry enough to come inside. Trough the screen door I saw Grandma Helen had laid out quilts across the foor of her living room. Atop each quilt were the green bean buckets and various colanders. As we entered, Cody and Jessie sprawled out on the quilts to catch a breather; Dillon and I followed their lead.

Afer a minute or two, Jessie sat up and lazily exhaled, “We better get started.”

She claimed one of the buckets, reached in, and grabbing a green bean said, “Snap them like this,” Jessie pinched of each end and tossed the green bean into the colander, then repeated the process. “Give it a go!” she encouraged, more lively now. Cody, Dillon, and I sat up and imitated Jessie’s snapping. Grandma Helen came into the living room while we worked and picked up full colanders before leaving again. “She’s rinsing of beans in the kitchen,” Cody told me when he saw my confused expression. Sure enough, she returned each time with an empty colander, ready to be flled again.

At last the buckets and colanders were empty, so the four of us wandered into the kitchen where we found Grandma Helen and Grandpa Jack flling jars. Te jars covered what seemed like every surface of the kitchen, most of which were already flled.

Cody leaned down and whispered to Dillon, “Tis is my favorite part,” before washing his hands at the sink. When he fnished, Cody grabbed a jar, added a scoop of salt, and topped it with handfuls of snapped green beans. Ten he shook the jar, making sure the green beans were tightly packed. Dillon, Jessie, and I followed his lead, when suddenly I noticed tea kettles whistling on the stove.

Grandma Helen rushed to turn of each burner and placed the kettles on pot holders. Te kettles cooled for a few minutes before Cody picked one up and poured water over one jar, then another. Dillon followed him around the kitchen as he poured, wide-eyed watching him fll each one. “See those bubbles?” Cody asked me, and I nodded. “Tap the jar on the counter, but be gentle. Make sure you get all of the bubbles to disappear.” I did as he said, and the bubbles started disappearing. I could see why this was his favorite part; popping the bubbles was a game of sorts. Grandpa Jack came behind me, wiping the rim of each jar I fnished tapping; then Jessie and Grandma Helen came behind him to seal each jar. Dillon watched us all, amused.

When we fnished, Grandpa Jack pulled a giant pot from one of the cabinets and set it on the stove. Cody handed me a sealed jar, and I followed him to the giant pot. Cody placed our jars inside it. Grandma Helen poured water over them, then sealed the giant pot itself.

“What’s she doing to them?” I asked Cody. “Tat’s how cannin’ works. We fll ‘em up, then that big pot seals ‘em tight. It preserves the green beans,” he said matter-of-factly.

Grandma Helen and Grandpa Jack dismissed us from the kitchen. Tere was nothing lef for us to do. So we returned to the living room, where through the screen door I saw the sun begin to set while frefies came out.

“Look! Lightnin’ bugs!” Dillon exclaimed.

He ran out the door, down the porch, and into the yard barefoot – passionately chasing the poor frefies. He leapt forward to catch one but tumbled into a roll, causing us all to explode with laughter. “I still caught it!” Dillon said, standing with pride - which only made us laugh more as we put on our shoes and joined him in the chase.

Soon my stomach gurgled, and I noticed how hungry I was. At the same moment, Grandma Helen announced herself from the porch with a jar in each hand: “It’s time for y’all to go home. Your momma called and told me your dinner is ready.” Dillon and I went to thank her for letting us help. But when we reached the porch, Grandma Helen extended a jar to both us and said, “Now you both have your own canned green beans.” We grinned, thanking her even more for these new treasures. “If you run, you’ll have plenty of light to make it home without a fashlight,” Grandma Helen said, winking.

So, waving goodbye to Cody and Jessie with the promise of more adventures tomorrow, we ran down the steps and dashed into the woods clutching our green beans. We raced alongside the creek, past Grandpa Jack’s old barn, and safely arrived at home with light to spare and dinner waiting.