114. When Zachary Beaver Came To Town

When Zachary Beaver Came to Town. Kimberly Willis Holt. 1999/2003. 256 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: Nothing ever happens in Antler, Texas. Nothing much at all. Until this afternoon, when an old blue Thunderbird pulls a trailer decorated with Christmas lights into the Dairy Maid parking lot. The red words painted on the trailer cause quite a buzz around town, and before an hour is up, half of Antler is standing in line with two dollars clutched in hand to see the fattest boy in the world.Since it’s too late in the summer for firecrackers and too early for the Ladybug Waltz, Cal and I join Miss Myrtie Mae and the First Baptist Quilting Bee at the back of the line. Miss Myrtie Mae wears a wide-brimmed straw hat. She claims that she’s never exposed her skin to sun. Even so, wrinkles fold into her face like an unironed shirt. She takes her job as town historian and librarian seriously, and as usual, her camera hangs around her neck.

Premise/plot: In the summer of 1971, Zachary Beaver came to town; he came to Antler, Texas, a super small town. For better or worse, he came as a sideshow act--an act labeling him the fattest BOY in the world. Toby Wilson, Cal McKnight, and Tara Stalling are just a few among the many that have gathered together and payed a few bucks to see this 'fattest boy in the world' with their very own eyes. Days later it appears that Zachary has been abandoned there in town in his trailer...and thus begins an unforgettable summer.

My thoughts: I really loved When Zachary Beaver Came to Town. The characterization was amazing. We get to know what feels like the whole town. The characters have depth and substance. I cared about them all. It's not unusual to care about the main characters--but to care about all the characters, to feel that they are all "real" "breathing" "living" human beings...that is much rarer. The book is sad without drowning in sadness. I guess what I'm trying to say (and probably failing) is that the weight of the sadness is balanced with light, hope, and even humor. It is a book that celebrates FRIENDSHIP. And specifically how friends forgive each other and support each other. 

I also loved the writing.

Quotes:

Scarlett Stalling walks toward the line, holding her bratty sister Tara’s hand. Scarlett looks cool wearing a bikini top underneath an open white blouse and hip huggers that hit right below her belly button. With her golden tan and long, silky blond hair, she could do a commercial for Coppertone.

Scarlett doesn’t go to the back of the line. She walks over to me. To me. Smiling, flashing that Ultra Brite sex appeal smile and the tiny gap between her two front teeth. Cal grins, giving her the tooth, but I lower my eyelids half-mast and jerk my head back a little as if to say, “Hey.”

Then she speaks. “Hey, Toby, would ya’ll do me a favor?”

Sheriff Levi Fetterman drives by, making his afternoon rounds. He slows down and looks our way. His riding dog, Duke, sits in the passenger seat. Duke is Sheriff Levi’s favorite adoptee. Anytime someone in Antler finds a stray cat or dog, they call the sheriff to pick up the animal and take it to the pound. Sheriff Levi can’t bear to dump a dog, and because of that he has a couple dozen living on his one-acre place a mile out of town. However, cats are a different story. They go straight to the pound.

 

It seems weird, standing here, staring at someone because they look different. Wylie Womack is the strangest-looking person in Antler, but I’m so used to seeing his crooked body riding around town in his beat-up golf cart that I don’t think about him looking weird.

 

Dad might as well be from Pluto as from Dallas. People in Antler see it as the same thing. The funny thing is, now it seems like Dad belongs here more than Mom. I don’t think she ever counted on him settling in Antler when he passed through years ago, looking for a place to raise worms.

 

Mom is known as the singing waitress. She makes up songs for the customers, and if they’re a pain, she makes up songs about them. Her voice is high and strong with just the right twang. She may sing songs about honky-tonk angels while serving Bowl-a-Rama specials, but in her mind she’s probably on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry.

In the cafe, next to the picture of the Lord’s Supper, Ferris hung a huge banner above the soda fountain counter—Good Luck, Opalina!

Ferris comes out from behind the counter, limping to the door and turning the Open sign around to face the front. The talk around town is his limp was a self-inflicted wound so he didn’t have to serve in the Korean War. Ferris claims it was a pure coincidence that he was cleaning his gun the day before he was to report for active duty.

Before that happened, Ferris wanted to be a preacher. He even went a semester to a Bible college in Oklahoma. Now he never goes to church, but Mom says he knows the Bible from Genesis to Revelation.

 

Ferris’s chalkboard hangs near the kitchen window behind the counter. Today’s Special: Honey Fried Chicken, Corn Fritters, and Mustard Greens. Beneath the menu is the daily Bible verse. “It is an honor for a man to cease from strife: but every fool will be meddling.” Proverbs 20:3. Mom says some people wear their religion on their sleeves. Ferris posts his on the chalkboard.

Southern gospel music plays from the jukebox, but the sound of bowling balls hitting pins in the next room can still be heard. From the kitchen window, Ima Jean stares at us through her steamed-up cat-eyed glasses. With the back of her hand, she wipes them in a circular motion.

Ferris does a double take when he sees Dad. “How ya doing, Otto? Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

Dad nods toward Ferris. “Doing fine. Yourself?”

Ferris strokes his beard stubble. “Couldn’t be better. Sure do miss your woman, though.”

Dad glances at the Good Luck, Opalina! sign hanging over the counter.  

While we wait, Malcolm’s little brother, Mason, and four other chubby third graders show up with sticks in their hands. Unlike Malcolm, Mason is tough and the leader of his bully pack. Each kid takes a side of the trailer and starts hitting it with sticks. Over their pounding, Mason yells, “Hey, fat boy! Show your face!”

Something boils inside me. I remember when kids like them beat up on me just because they could. I wouldn’t snitch, and since Dad was against it, I wouldn’t fight back either. But today is different. Today we’re soldiers, fighting for Zachary.

 

 

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