Chapter 2: 1946, Neighbors

Junior was the same age as Wayne, and he lived right next door. The two little boys played together in the yard between the two houses, and both of them tried to avoid the older neighborhood bully, Johnny Turner.

2 Johnny was two years older than them, and he never missed an opportunity to hit or shove Wayne. Junior was bigger and plumper than Wayne and didn’t present as appealing a target as his smaller playmate. There was also the fact that Wayne was terrified of Johnny and made no attempt to conceal his fear.

3 “Come here you little sissy!” Johnny demanded. Wayne froze right where he was and didn’t move a muscle. “Did you hear me?” Johnny persisted. Then he picked up a piece of brick and slammed it into Wayne’s face.

4 Wayne went home with a bloody nose and a fat lip, and he was screaming bloody murder and crying. “What happened?” Doodle asked as she scooped the little boy up into her arms. She grabbed a cloth and wetted it with cold water in the kitchen sink and began dabbing at his lip and nose. “What happened?” she repeated when he had calmed down enough to talk.

5 “Johnny hit me with a brick,” the little boy sputtered. “Well that’s about enough of that!” she declared. “You’ve let that little hellion run over you for the last time!”

6 She put Wayne down beside her, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “You’re going to give him the same thing that he’s been giving you!” she told him. “There he is,” she pointed.

7 Wayne just stood there beside her with his head down. “You’re going to hit him, or so help me God, I’m going to hit you!” She bent down and pulled a half-dead rose bush out of the ground and pointed at Junior. Wayne didn’t move.

8 She hit his legs with the rose bush. He flinched at the pain but refused to move toward Johnny. Doodle struck his legs with the bush yet again.

9 This time, however, Wayne sprang into action. He suddenly lunged forward and was on top of the bully before his mother could process what was happening. His little fists were flying into the face of the astonished Johnny who was now below him on the ground.

10 Mr. Bates had been watching the entire thing unfold from his porch across the street. “You shouldn’t be encouragin that kind a behavior,” he shouted. “You stay out of this you hooked nose son of a bitch!” Doodle screamed. Then she picked up a rock and threw it in his direction just to emphasize her point.

11 “What’s all this about?” Mrs. Turner demanded from her own porch. “It’s about you controlling that little devil!” Doodle screamed. She picked up the same fragment of brick that Johnny had used to hit Wayne and headed toward his mother. Mrs. Turner let out a little screech and retreated to the safety of her own home.

12 “You’d better never hit him again!” Doodle told Johnny. Then she grabbed Wayne by the hand and pulled him back to their own home.

13 Two Huntsville police officers arrived about twenty minutes later. One headed for Mrs. Turner’s house and the other headed for Clayton’s and Doodle’s house.

14 “What seems to be the problem here?” the officer asked Doodle. She explained the situation and told him about what she had done. “If you have any more problems, Ms. Jones, you’ll need to call us,” he told her. “You can’t go off on your own settlin things like this,” he finished.

15 Nevertheless, although the episode had provoked a whole lot of drama, Johnny Turner never bothered Wayne again. From that time forward, Wayne and Junior were able to play in their own yards without fear of being pummeled by Johnny.

16 That freedom would also shortly get them into a different kind of trouble. The boys found some blue paint that Clayton had stored under the house.

17 It was a hot Alabama summer, and both boys were running around the yard without shirts in little cotton shorts. Somehow, they managed to get the lid off of one of the cans, and Wayne dipped his brush into the blue paint within.

18 The idea came to him as he stared at his friend standing before him. He lifted the brush and began painting. He started with Junior’s torso, and then worked on his extremities.

19 However, before Wayne could complete his masterpiece, his canvas ran up onto the front porch and knocked on the door. When Doodle opened the door, there before her stood a chubby little blue Junior.

20 “Lord have mercy, Junior,” she said almost to herself. “What have you done?” she asked. “W-a-y-n-e pain-ted m-e,” he said in his slow, deep Southern drawl.

21 Doodle started laughing. She grabbed Junior by the hand and led him next door to his own house and knocked on the front door. When his mother opened the door, Doodle couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on the woman’s face.

22 “Ms. Jones, what has happened to my son?” she demanded. “Wayne painted him!” she exclaimed and began laughing again.

23 “I really don’t see what’s so funny,” the woman said with both hands on her hips. “I’m sorry – I don’t mean to laugh, but just look at him,” Doodle replied. At that, Junior’s mother took another long look at her son, and she too began to laugh.

24 “Come on, I’ll help you clean him up,” Doodle offered. They got a gallon of coal oil and put Junior in the bathtub. They ended up just about taking the hide off of the little boy, but they did eventually get most of the blue paint off of him.

25 “Thank you for your help,” Junior’s mother told Doodle. “What are neighbors for?” Doodle asked. They both broke out into laughter again. Wayne and Junior weren’t quite sure what to make of their mothers’ strange behavior, but they were both relieved that they didn’t appear to be in any trouble for what had happened.