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Memories of Golde Dicks Markham (1996) Golde Markham Dicks 78/125

very much though because Eric sort of grew on me little by little. I didn’t just fall head-over­

heels in love with him at first sight.
That fall there was another singing convention at Evergreen Church, northeast of Lake
City. I don’t remember its denomination. Eric had made a date to go to this “sing” at 9 a.m.
on a Sunday. The sings always started at 10 a. m. I was up that Sunday helping Ma because
Pa was off preaching.

We had been up for only a few minutes when I saw a car drive up in front of our
house. I saw my best friend Mabie coming in. I met her at the front door. I knew something
must be wrong because it was only 7 a.m. She smiled and said1 that her mama had sent her to

tell me that there had been a peanut boiling at Alma Bedenbaugh’s the night before and that
Eric had been there talking to Alma the entire evening. Alma had been Eric’s steady girl­
friend before he and I started dating. By this time, I had ‘grown a little fonder of Eric.
I told Ma why Mabie was at our house so early. I was pretty mad, but I got dressed to

go on the date.
When Eric picked me up, I was a little mad—no, I was enraged! He arrived at 9 a.m.,
all smiley and smirky. We drove off; I sat so close to the car door that it looked like three

other people could have sat between us. I had nothing to say, but Eric was talking up a
storm. The only time I’d say anything was if he asked me a question. Then I’d answer just as
clipped and brief as possible. I never could hide my anger.
On the way to the church, we passed in front of Alma’s house. Just before we got

there, I told him to slow down—he thought he was driving too fast. I told him that consider­
ing the fact that he was about to make a turn—rhe was driving too fast.
Just at that time we approached the driveway to Alma’s house. I asked him if we were

picking her up. I told him that I ihad! left room for her to sit next to him'. Eric didn’t turn red;
he went white, realizing at that moment that I knew something. I told him I knew he had
attended the peanut boiling. He couldn’t imagine how I could have possibly found out so

early in the morning. He always said1 that I knew everything that he did before he ever did it.
I never did tell him how I found out.
I paid Eric back for that episode several times over: I’d make a date with him, and

when he’d arrive at my house, I would be gone with another boy. A couple of times I was
sitting on the porch with another boy when he came for our date. He slowed down, saw the
other boy, and drove on by. There weren’t any telephones out in the country then, but in
about three days, I’d get a moaning letter from him.

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