The Fear of Grape

To celebrate the approach of Halloween I thought I would tell you the scariest thing that ever happened to me. Not a story I have told very often, so this could get interesting.

When I was 11 years old, my friend Wesley and I spent most of the summer riding our bikes around our small hometown. Back then, parents did not worry about kids like we do today. I did not even wear a helmet when riding my bike if you can believe such a crazy thing.

One summer day we were approached by a person, I will call Ray. Now Ray was 17 and earlier in the school year, my older brother had started dating Ray's ex-girlfriend. Ray had taken exception to this and had confronted my older brother about the girl. My older brother proceeded to beat Ray up in front of a large portion of the school. I'm sure Ray was humiliated.

Ray drove up to Wesley and me in his dark blue 1974 Chrysler Newport accompanied by three of his friends. Ray called for me to come over to the car. So stupidly, Wesley and I peddled over to him. Ray asked me where my older brother was. I said I didn't know. Ray said he needed to talk to my brother and I had to tell him where my brother was. Now, this is where things really take a turn for the worse.

My friend Wesley says to Ray, "Why do you need to see him? You want to get beat up again?"

Ray and his three friends pile out of the car and descend on Wesley and me. They yank us off our bikes and proceed to beat the living tar out of both of us. They throw our bicycles down into a deep ditch, pick us both up, and throw us into the trunk of Ray's Newport.

Ray and his friends were drinking and they began to drive around with us in the trunk. We could hear them laughing and reliving the beating they had just given us. We drove for what seemed like an eternity but in actuality was probably 20 minutes or so. I remember the smell of fumes in the trunk and the stifling heat. Then I heard the sentence that would strike complete terror into every fiber of my being.

Ray said, "Let's take them over and give them to Grape."

Grape was a local bootlegger and known eccentric who lived behind the levee in a trailer on stilts. The trailer was about 12 feet off the ground to prevent it from being flooded when the Mississippi River rose. Why Grape lived behind the levee I had no idea but I guess it was a good place for a bootlegger to live.

Grape was a scary guy. He was tall, probably around 6 feet 2 inches. He always wore blue bib overalls and an STP cap. He wasn't a big person but he always had a large knife hanging from his belt. I remember the knife had a white bone handle. Some of the kids said it was made from human bone, but I seriously doubt it.

Grape had been arrested many, many times for a variety of offenses. I saw Grape get arrested at a local high school basketball game for pouring his soda on a guy sitting next to him and then slapping the guy repeatedly in the face.

Why he was called Grape, I do not know. Maybe it had something to do with his ability to sell wine, beer and spirits on Sunday when no one else could. Back in those days, liquor stores closed on Sundays.

So Ray drove Wesley and me behind the levee and stopped in front of Grape's overgrown yard. When Ray popped his trunk Wesley and I began fighting for our lives but Ray and his friends proceeded to beat us until we gave up and let them throw us in Grape's yard. As Ray and his friends sped away, Wesley and I jumped up and began running for our safety. We had gone maybe 10 feet when two of Grape's large dogs began chasing us. Then we heard Grape's loud voice telling us to stop running or the dogs would get us, so we stopped and turned to face the man that we both were terrified of. Grape motioned for us to come over to him and we began the walk over. My heart was racing and I began to cry. When we made it over to Grape, he reached down, grabbed us both by the hair, and began taking us up the long, creaky stairs to his trailer.

Once inside he threw us on the floor. I still remember the smell of dog feces and urine. It was hot inside and there were flies everywhere. Grape was a hoarder and there were boxes and stuff piled to the ceiling. I was in full-on panic mode at this point.

Grape asked us what we were doing on his property and we told him about Ray, the beating, and the trunk. We said we were sorry and asked if we could go home. Grape told us his place was not for kids and that in fact, he hated kids. He told us we made the biggest mistake of our lives by coming on his land.

Wesley and I were crying hysterically and begging Grape to let us go. Grape then yelled, "Shut up." We stopped crying immediately. I can remember the sound of Wesley and I panting in complete fear of what was going to happen next.

Grape began to walk over to us. As he was walking, I saw his hand reach down to his side and begin to remove the bone-handled knife from its sheath. Upon reaching us, Grape plunged the knife into a small end table that was positioned between Wesley and me. Grape knelt down and was just inches from my face. I could see his yellow teeth and smell his bad breath.

Grape looked me in the eye and said, "You boys get the hell out of here and never come back."

Wesley and I bolted out of the trailer and down the stairs. As we began running across his yard we heard the dogs start chasing us again. Then we heard Grape holler for the dogs to stop and thankfully, they did. We ran all the way back to where Ray grabbed us. Luckily, our bikes were still down in the deep ditch. We fished them out and I rode home at blistering speed.

Once I got home, I ran inside to find my dad sitting at the kitchen table eating some watermelon. I told my dad my tale of being beaten up and held captive by Grape.

My dad's response, "Boy you better not ever go over to that man's house again and the next time you let somebody beat you up you are going to get worse from me."

Lesson learned and a good story to tell. Although I haven't told many people about my adventure with Grape. I honestly don't think he would have hurt us but he certainly put the fear of Grape in us.

Happy Halloween.

Editorial on 10/20/2019

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