Spring 2015
ARCHIE FINDS SOLACE IN THE
GOOD OLD DAYS
by Bill Frank Robinson
Saturday morning and Archie is sitting at the kitchen table eating biscuits and gravy that Cab has
just cooked. Cab, standing in front of the stove, turns around and shakes his spatula at Archie. “Damn
it, Archie, when you wash the dishes turn ‘em upside down when ya stack ‘em in the cupboard. When
I took those plates down this morning, I found rat turds in ‘em.”
Archie looks down at the brown specks in the gravy and gags.
Cab continues to shake his spatula. “Your ma’s coming home tomorrow and I wantcha here to
help her with the laundry. So don’t go runnin’ off like ya always do. And somethin’ else I heard, ya
been running away from fights. I never run away from a fight in my life. If I catcha running from
anybody I’ll whale the tar outta ya. Do you hear me?” Cab drops his spatula and charges Archie,
grabbing him by the throat, jerking him to his feet, and smashing him into the wall. “Look at me
when I talk to ya and answer my questions. It’s time ya showed me a little respect.” Archie cringes
against the wall and starts crying. “Go ahead and cry. Ya big bawl baby.” Cab grabs Archie, throws
him to the floor, and points his finger down at him. “Stay there till I tell ya, ya can get up.”
Archie hugs the floor and cries bitterly. Things weren’t always like this; back in Colorado he went
ever’ where with Big Cab and he, Archie, was called his right-hand man. And Sandy? What ever
happened to Sandy? Some said he went away to die. Others said he went away to get hisself well.
Where is Sandy? Archie’s mind drifts back to the early days.
***
Archie remembers walking towards the roadside cafe with Mom and Dad following. He’s wearing
bran B