12/17/2019
Edgecombe County Country Store
Pinetops Community
Growing up I remember seeing these stores everywhere in the countryside. They were always filled with a steady flow of customers who wanted gas and snacks for their journey to point elsewhere.
I often recall old men in bib overalls hanging about taking a break. Having earn their marks for decades of farming they still donned their fieldware and wore them proudly. Usually they were yapping away about the expected harvest for that year. If it was a dry season they would talk about how desperately rain was needed. Sometimes, they be talking about their neighbors, none of course I knew. But, they would rattle on even though this nosey, fair-skinned, freckled face kid would hang on to every word they spoke.
Sometimes, when we stopped the smell would be pugent. A trailer of hogs would be hooked up to Freightliner heading to a slaughterhouse. The squeal of hogs and the smell of their deposits filled the air. I would walk over and look when the trucker went inside. I didn't know they were gonna be butchered at that time. But, I didn't understand how come they were all squeezed in. Surely, they weren't comfortable.
When the trucker came out with his lunch, I asked him if he could let the pigs out so they could have lunch too. Surely, they were hungry. The trucker then asked me if I lost my mind. I thought, for a second, pointed to my head and said, "No. It's still in here." He laughed and drove away.
As I grew older, I became fond of rural life and the memories I stored away. When I travel with other folks from the city they often find farm smells disgusting. To me, farm smells from the various livestock was its own little kind of heaven. Refreshing, even if they opened my sinuses.
Growing up in Wilmington, any way out of town was two lane roads if you weren't heading west on 74. I remember when the path to Myrtle Beach was two lanes. Little stores like these dotted the edges of the highway. The same for 421. Two lanes and took forever it seemed to reach the mountains. But, riding with my Dad often rewarded me with a glass bottle of cold Dr. Pepper, an oatmeal creme cookie, and nabs. Sometimes, I got to upgrade to a bag of barbecue potato chips. Usually, they would be the Wise brand or Lance.
It would be in one of these country stores that I would be exposed to a strange find in the outside men's room. I was puzzled why grown ups would have a balloon machine in there. But, for 25 cents you could get a balloon of different colors. Well, only one came in a pack. But, if you had enough quarters you could buy a rainbow of colors. I only had one quarter. I asked my Dad for it. But, I couldn't tell him about my strange find when he asked me what I wanted a quarter for. Surely, he would think it weird for a balloon machine to be in the men's room. The only reason I hesitated was because on the front of the machine would be a woman without a shirt. I saw b***s for the first time that day too! Now, in the mind of a 10 year old it made no sense for a nekkid woman to be on a balloon machine.
I deposited my quarter and pulled the slot handle. Out fell this tiny package. I stuck in my T-shirt pocket and got back in the station wagon. We didn't have to be in seat belts then. So, I took my package and got in the trunk of the wagon. I opened it and stuck the package and wrapper under the back seat. I was disappointed I got a blue one. I was hoping for red. But, I was amazed this balloon blew up so big without popping!
My mom always cleaned out the wagon. I am sure she was amazed too when she found the balloon package. In hindsight, I am sure Dad couldn't explain to my Mother where the little package came from...I am sure that conversation didn't go well. They never knew what I bought for a quarter at the little store in Brunswick County.
