A Flicker of Doubt - Tim Myers [8]
“It sounds kind of plain,” I said.
Markum said, “Keep your voice down, Grover might hear you. Take a bite, then tell me what you think.”
I took a bite, then another and another. Before I realized it, my entire sandwich was gone. Markum was grinning at me between bites. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Come on, it’s better than good. How does he do it?”
“He swears it’s because he recites Emily Dickenson to the pork as it is cooking. Who’s to say he’s wrong?”
I started to stand. “I’ve got to have another one. I’m buying this time.”
Markum said, “Sit back down, Harrison. It’s one per customer, no exceptions. Grover wants to make sure there’s enough for everybody.”
I found myself wishing I’d taken a .little more time with my first sandwich, then I looked around and saw that several of the people eating were lingering over their food like they were participating in some kind of ritual. “When can I come back?”
“You can’t, at least not without me.” Markum finished his sandwich, then said, “Maybe there’s something I can do about that, though. Wait right here.”
I saw him approach a wizened old man the color of wet ashes. The two of them talked a few minutes, then Markum nodded toward me and waved. I joined them and noticed that somehow we’d managed to attract the attention of most folks there.
Markum said formally, “Harrison, this is Grover. Grover; this is my friend Harrison Black.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” I said. “If I had a pen and paper, I’d ask you for your autograph.”
Grover snorted at that “Why would you want that for?”
“What I just had wasn’t a sandwich, it was a work of art”
I thought for a moment I’d blown it, and so did Markum, if the tenseness in his expression was any indication. Grover stewed it over it for a full minute, then his scowl turned into a grin.-”Nothing wrong with enjoying it, but I don’t put on airs around here, Harrison. That’s something you need to keep in mind next time.”
“Yes, sir, I will”
Grover said, “And another thing. There aren’t any sirs or ma’ams around here. I’m Grover, just that”
“Grover,” I said, extending my hand, “it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
He took it, and I felt the coarseness of his hand, brought on by manual labor, and years of it “And you, Harrison.” We all saw a woman approach, and Grover said, “Scuse me a second, fellas.”
A distinguished older woman I knew to be a judge over in Canawba County approached. “Oh, dear, I hope . I’m not too late.”
“Sadie, you know I’ll always save one for you.”
“Grover, you are a true Southern gentleman.”
She put her money under a rock on the table in front of him, and Grover retrieved a Coke from the cooler beside him. After he handed the drink to her, he opened a homemade grill the size and shape of a fifty-five gallon ] drum. The full aroma of the cooked meat hit me. In a heartbeat, he slapped melted butter on a bun, toasted for a few seconds, then retrieved it and loaded it with barbeque.
She took it reverently, and Grover turned back to us. “Sadie’s something. Now Harrison, I hope to see you next week.”
“Do I have to wait a week?” I asked, unable ft hide my disappointment
“A week’s not too awful long to wait,” Grover said, then he slapped my shoulder. “Thanks for bringing him by, Markum; he brings a smile to my face.”
“Happy to do it Grover. See you next week.”
After we were back in the truck, I said, “How long has this been going on?”
“For twenty years, the way I understand it.”
I drove toward Cyrus’s house and asked, “So how did you get invited for the first time?”
Markum smiled. “The same way you did. Somebody brought me. It’s special invitation only, and you’d better be sure about who you’re bringing, because if Grover doesn’t like your guest you’re not welcome yourself anymore.”
“Thanks for taking a chance on me. You said something that makes me curious. I know the man’s a magician with barbeque, but why did you call him the wisest man you’ve ever known?”
Markum said, “Grover was one of the richest men in this part of North Carolina, but the stress of keeping his fortune growing was killing