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  • Writer's pictureJane Cooper Hong

Remember the Red River Valley

By Jane Cooper Hong


We wore mud moccasins that day

Stuck on the gumbo road

Doughy and viscous from the rain

The same rain that blackened the night

Adding to your beer-fed blindness

The same rain that helped you slur onto a farm road

Instead of into a wayside rest

Taking us into the waiting, wet gumbo

Doughy and viscous from the rain

Clinging to the tires

Pulling them deeper with every attempt to roll forward

Reverse our only direction

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

Beer bottles empty, Ford bench seats the only beds

We awakened to Red River Valley sunshine

Raising steam from the slick, black dirt

We pushed, we pulled

Reverse our only direction

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

As the mud caked thicker and thicker on our shoes

I welcomed bare feet

But you and mom resisted

Till the sheer weight and viscosity of the gumbo

Sucked the shoes from your feet and Mom’s

Leaving you in your socks

Which grew longer and heavier by the minute

Till they, too, succumbed to the pull

And you and Mom joined me

Barefoot

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

We wore mud moccasins that day

Velvet soft, oily black mud, clinging to our feet

As we pushed and pulled

Inching the car backward

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

Tires spinning, mud pinwheeling

Spattering the pushers, spraying the pullers

Leaving us laughing

At our appearance

At our predicament

At our mud moccasins

As we remained

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

Covered in mud, warmed by sunshine

Weaned of beer by the suction of mud and unplanned exertion

You laughed and sang

And reminded me of Dad Gone By

Reversing direction

Stuck on the gumbo road

That stretched past row after row after row of sugar beets

Like a drawing exercise in perspective

Reaching to a vanishing point

Where a tractor appeared

Growing in proportion to the rows in the fields

As it chugged closer

Finally reaching us there

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

The farmer, terse with words but quick with a hitch

Achieved in minutes what we’d labored at for hours

Wearing our mud moccasins

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

While we missed the wedding we’d been driving to

The farmer’s wife served cool water and blood sausage sandwiches

Tasty food to us, her mud-covered guests

Because we’d eaten nothing for a night and a day

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

Beautiful people, dressed in wedding day finest

Greeted us as we reached your brother’s home

Black mud caked on every inch of your powder blue car

Coating our skin, hair and clothing

From the night and day we’d spent

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

Water removed the mud

Making us fit for the company of the fancy guests

Until the beer was served

Like dark rain

Leaving reverse our only direction

Stuck on the gumbo road

 

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