I have been thinking back to see if I could remember the first time I knew we had a broken system. I must have been about four years old. We lived in Pattison, Mississippi. According to Wikipedia, the community is located on the former Yazoo and Mississippi Valley Railroad and once had a drug store, grist mill, cotton gin, saloon, hotel, and multiple general stores. I just remember a small village with a primary school, a store, and a couple of churches with Daddy as pastor of the Baptist church. There may have been more to the hamlet, but this is all I remember – all that mattered at four.
When Mama needed to accompany Daddy for some reason, one of the kind ladies at the church volunteered to “keep” us – the McGee Girls, three at this time. Beth was two and Gwyn not yet a year old. I’ll call the lady who had offered on this particular day Mrs. Peal since I don’t remember her name. She made us welcome and introduced us to her cook as we passed through the kitchen on her way outside with Beth and me in tow. Gwyn would have remained inside, being too young to join our backyard adventure.
Outside, Mrs. Peal called Jimmy, her cook’s son who was about ten years old. She asked him to watch us and make sure we had a good time. Beth and I liked Jimmy who seemed to take his task to heart and entertained us well. He was enough older to know things to do and how to do them, but still kid enough to have a good time. All was well until Beth and I decided we had been outside long enough and suggested that we go inside for a while.
“Nuh-uh,” Jimmy said. “I can’t go inside.” The reason he gave made no sense to me and twisted through my brain in a puzzle. I may or may not have asked one of the adults later. I don’t remember. We stayed with Mrs. Peal occasionally, and I remembered each time that we had to play outside if we wanted to play with Jimmy, but the dilemma continued to track through my brain. No satisfying answer was ever given to me since I am still puzzling to this day.