Ma's Tale,By Mike Riley

Many of the old timers in town might remember my mother, Mrs. Horace Whitewash. She has been gone for some time now, but her stories about life on the canal still can be heard at gatherings around town. Her favorite story is of how she read the signs of the devil and saved the family and our boat. I would like to finally set the record straight and tell the whole story of how Ma saved us from certain disaster.

It all began a long time ago, when the family owned a leaky old canal boat named the ‘Fore Hire’.  Dad and Ma had sold the farm and went to work on the canal. My brother and I were born in the small cabin of the boat and raised on board.  Ma’s tale started the year I turned 10, as we were working our way west from Rome.  Mom was cooking down below in the cabin, and I was driving the mules.

The first thing I heard was Dad yelling and shaking his fist to the sky.  I ran to Dad as fast as I could, and Ma ran up the cabin stairs.  Dad was mad, but in a funny sort of way.

“By Dad gum, if that don’t beat all,” Dad was yelling as he wiped a rather large spot of bird poop off his head. “Did you see that blasted Black Bird? It just came out of no where and pooped on my head. Why intarnation, if I had my scatter gun, I’d let him have it.”

“It’s a sign of the Devil”, Ma said as she crossed herself.  “It’s a bad omen, for sure. You should drop to your knees and pray.”

“Taint no sign of the Devil, it’s that blasted bird. Junior, get my gun.”

“He won’t do no such thing”, Ma said. “Imagine, shooting the Devil himself. You’ll burn in hell for sure Pa. We should just tie up here and wait for what ever bad will happen to us.”

“Tie up! And waste a whole day? Junior, get out there and drive those blasted mules before I whip you”, and with that, Pa put an end to the matter.

Two years passed, and as far as I recollect, nothing really bad happened to any of us. But one day, while driving east and large Black Bird came out of no where and pooped on my head. Ma, who happened to be on deck hanging out the wash, saw everything. “STOP THE BOAT!” she cried. Pa was so started that he put the rudder over and grounded the boat into the bank of the canal, while I tried to run back while wiping the poop out of my eyes.

“What’s the matter Ma?” we both yelled at the same time.

“The Devil, he’s gone and done it again! He has pooped on your head.”

“Ma, it’s just a bird…” I tried to say.

“IT’S THE DEVIL. I told you that bad things would happen. First your Pa, and now you.”

“For Dad gum”, my father said. “That bird pooped on my head two seasons ago. How does that have anything to do with this?”

 

My mother, whose recollections did not seem to be bothered by length of time, was not to be quieted. “I tell you, something bad is going to happen.” And with that, she grabbed my younger brother, who was 8 years old.  Although he was old enough to safely walk around the boat on his own, she still insisted on tying a rope to him, so he would not fall off the boat and drown. She tied a second rope to him, in effect lashing him to the roof of the cabin.

“Ma”, he protested, “I can’t move.”

“Quiet there young-un, better you can’t move then let the Devil toss you off the boat. If your Pa won’t stop this boat, I’m going to protect you.”

As anyone who has been lashed to the roof of a canal boat cabin knows, after six hours of sitting in the sun, Paul got quite sunburned

“It’s a sign of the Devil, I told you this would happen”, Ma said triumphfily.

“But Ma, you tied him out in the sun”, Pa said.

“He’s been out in the sun before, and never got burned like this. It’s the Devil. I told you something bad would happen.” And with that she chased us out of the cabin so she could pray over Paul.

Two years later, we were working west early in the fall. We were passing through a small swamp when a black bird came down and pooped on the off mules head. He was so startled that he stopped short. The boat slowly drifted up to where I was wiping the poop off the mule’s face.

“What happen?” Dad demanded.

“A blackbird pooped on the mules head and…”

“IT’S A SIGN OF THE DEVIL”, Ma screamed as she crossed herself. “These things always happen in threes. Young-uns, you get out there and lash us to the trees, right now.”

“Ma, we ain’t a stopping because some bird has a good aim.” Pa said.

“We are so, I ain’t traveling another inch. Something bad is going to happen. The Raven has pooped on us three times.”
I tried to calm her down. “Ma, it wasn’t even a real Black Bird. It was one of those birds with the red spots on the wings.”

“A Black Bird is a Black Bird. It don’t matter what color the Devil has painted his wings.”  (To Ma, telling birds apart was easy. You had your black birds, blue birds, red birds, grey birds, and white birds. If you were to ask her what bird was singing, she would knowingly point out it was a red bird. Birds of two colors, like a robin, were no problem to Ma. If she saw it from the front, it was a red bird, from the back, it was a grey bird.)

“We are sitting right here until we get a sign to pass on”, Ma said, and we did. All day long, as other boaters passed by, they would ask what was wrong.

“Dad blame if I know”, Dad would say, and he would shrug up his shoulders and roll his eyes to the heavens.

Well, as it would happen, that very same day, 200 miles to the west, a rain soaked banks of the canal gave way causing much damage and the loss of two boats. This was all the proof Ma needed.

“I told you something would happen”, she said proudly. “It was all in the signs.”
“That break was 200 miles away”, Pa would say, but Ma would not be deterred. She had saved the family and the boat. She had read the signs.

 

Now you know the truth behind Ma Whitewash’s tale. It might not be as exciting as the way Ma would tell it, but it is all the truth.