A Waltons Story

Chapter 7 - The Words of Wisdom

A Waltons Story

(The Waltons Fan Fiction)

By: Kristi N. Zanker

 Disclaimer: All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Lorimar Productions and Warner Bros. Television. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of The Waltons. No copyright infringement is intended.

7.

The Words of Wisdom

The fierce January cold greeted John-Boy as he pulled open the door and started down the steps. His hand grazed the thick concrete and brick railing. A thin blanket of snow stretched down the entire stoop. As he held onto the railing, John-Boy’s hand became ice cold. When he reached the bottom, he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the wintry bitterness. He turned left and headed down the street. Cars struggled their way down the slick, icy avenue. He watched as one car spun into a 180 degree turn and managed to turn the right way and slither to who knew where.

He had to be careful, so he wouldn’t slip on any stray ice on the sidewalk. Patches of snow lay in doorways of apartment buildings, and stores as John-Boy walked by them. The windows of the stores were dark. The only place that was open at this time of night was Marvin’s Bar and Grill, the local juke-joint. As he passed the bar, he heard swing music blaring from the jukebox. A roar of laughter erupted and the clink of glasses sounded. A man came out of the bar, and stumbled into John-Boy.

“Sorry, mister,” the drunk muttered and staggered his way down the street.

“Don’t worry about it, sir. People have been in my way all day,” he said softly, knew the wino couldn’t hear him.

Lights from windows of the numerous apartment buildings dotted down the street, creating zigzag patterns in contrast to the streetlights lined at the corner curbs. John-Boy thought about the people in the glowing windows. They were in their warm, humble abode, perhaps listening to the radio or playing Monopoly and not having a disagreement.

John-Boy passed by a park. From the streetlamps, he could tell the snow had been trampled on by energetic children, for he saw several lopsided snowmen. Clumps of grass peeked out from underneath the snow, possibly trying to bring on spring early. Benches outlined the park. John-Boy entered, and found a bench that was furthest from the street. He dusted off the thin layer of snow and sat down.

He felt calmer now. He wondered what Daisy was doing at that very moment. Was she still crying? Did Melissa wake up again? Did she wonder where he went off to? He thought to himself. John-Boy didn’t have his watch on, so he figured it must’ve been around 11 p.m. He thought about the words that had been exchanged. In a way, Daisy was right, she has had a hard life and the child had come to a surprise, changing everything. She used to work in theater and things were slowly coming together, as she had been getting parts.

John-Boy remembered how happy she was when she got the lead for a play. That had been less than a year ago. Now, she had to be there for Melissa. John-Boy knew Daisy wanted to be there for her daughter, but he could not understand why she couldn’t keep up with the housework or cook a decent meal. He had great respect for his mother and grandmother, who prepared a hot meal every day for their large family. And they kept the house spotless most of the time. With seven kids that had to be difficult, John-Boy recollected.

And then his thoughts turned to his father and grandfather. They worked six or seven days a week, twelve sometimes fourteen hours a day at the saw mill. John-Boy always remembered a meal being on the table when everyone came in for lunch or dinner. There were a few times when there was no meal.