It was mostly a quiet town, especially the south end. Every now and then, somebody would cut up, then things would settle down again. It gave everybody something to talk about for a week or two. And if nothing exciting happened after that, there was always Sabrina, the old-maid bartender at the local saloon. She had a wild streak as wide as the Mississippi, explosive dyed blonde hair, and she rode a souped-up motorcycle. Her antics were always a favorite topic of conversation. Especially when it came to the Sweet Potato Contest of 1957.
Every year at the county fair, a sweet potato contest was held. In 1957, things got serious between two brothers, Alfred and Wilfred. They lived right next door to each other. Alfred lived in a two-story wooden house and had been married six times. He was good-looking, tall, and had a head full of curly, auburn hair. He was now single for good (he said). The other one, Wilfred, was gray-haired, had never had a wife or a girlfriend, and was an obsessive gardener. His home was an old farmhouse with wide porches all around. And beyond that, stretched long rows of corn and sweet potatoes. He’d even been off to school to study agriculture. Now, he was attempting to cross-breed sweet potatoes so they would grow to enormous proportions, in order to win the Sweet Potato Contest. And, Alfred, who was too lazy to do any serious research, was counting on a double serving of fertilizer to produce a larger than normal sweet potato. Also, he had heard somewhere, that if a person talks to their plants, it will cause bigger and better growth. He had his eye set on that $50 prize awarded to the contest winner!
The last two years had come to a draw, and the brothers had to split the prize money. But now, rumors were going around that Wilfred’s scientific approach had, indeed, produced spectacular results. Some said the last potato he had dug up was as big as a watermelon! Alfred wouldn’t talk about it, and, of course, everyone thought he was whipped by science at last. This pushed Alfred to summon up enough energy to put in some extra effort in the garden. That’s when he took to staying up half the night -conversing with those sweet potatoes in the light of the moon.
A neighbor, Eli, would get up around 3 AM to get ready to go fishing and see Alfred, who was out in the garden, talking to his vegetables. “He’s finally gone slam crazy. He thinks them potatoes are talking back!” Eli would declare. “I was on my way to the river with my good-luck fishing pole and seen him laughing and joking around with his potatoes!” he would continue. His old mule would stop in the road and sniff the air as they passed Alfred’s place, like she knew something was up. Made Eli wonder. And when they passed Wilfred’s place, the mule would quicken her pace and Eli would smell something strange on the evening breeze. And every morning at the local diner, he’d tell what he’d seen in great detail and even greater exaggeration.
The closer it got to harvest time and the county fair, the more everyone was speculating on who would win this year. Alfred and Wilfred would surely bring their latest efforts in order to win the $50 prize (which was a good amount in those days). As the time drew near, anticipation and speculation increased by the day. The betting got serious. Eli claimed he was gambling on Alfred. Several others had put up good money on Wilfred. And there was suddenly a lot of traffic on the road by the brother’s houses. Folks would walk, ride mules, or hang out their car windows, craning their necks to see over the garden fences. But it turned out to be Sabrina who influenced the odds of who won that contest (and the bets involved).
Next full moon, Eli got up while it was still dark and gathered his fishing gear. The moon that night was unusually intense. As his mule slowed down in the deep parts of the sandy road, he saw a flash of red in Alfred’s yard. He stopped and looked closer. And recognized Sabrina in her bright red matador pants. She was sneaking up on Alfred as he crooned to his potato crop. “Git bigger and I’ll yank those stickers out from around you,” he murmured, while Sabrina drew closer. Eli just stood there and watched to see what was going to happen next.
“Lemme see that there potato you was talking to,” cooed Sabrina. Alfred scooped the soil from around his largest sweet potato.
“I can feel that fifty dollar bill in my hand right now!”exclaimed Alfred, as Sabrina’s eyes flashed wickedly. Alfred covered the potato back up, feeling confident and proud of his accomplishment.
“Well, let’s go celebrate early!” coaxed Sabrina, “I heard you had some of that good swampwater ‘shine in the pantry,” she went on. Eli watched as she grabbed Alfred by the hand and led him up the back steps. Eli got back on his mule and rode off into the early morning mist.
The next day, folks were flocking into town for the opening of the fairgrounds. Back in the shadows, some were making last minute bets on the Sweet Potato Contest. Excitement was high and it was a beautiful day. Perfect little white clouds danced across a wide blue sky, birds sang in the trees, and music wafted by on the soft breeze. When time came for the agricultural contests, Wilfred was there with the biggest, prettiest sweet potato anyone had ever seen. Folks just whistled under their breath and walked around and around it. It was the color of dark Georgia clay and had wispy root tendrils curling up like stray hairs on a bald man. It was awesome.
“Where’s Alfred?” asked somebody. Nobody knew. One thing was for sure - he wasn’t where he was supposed to be on this particular day. Folks waited. The judges waited. Half the people were smiling and half of them weren’t. Finally, when the sun began to sink behind the treeline, the judges awarded Wilfred fifty dollars and declared him the winner.“I’ll suwannee I heard Sabrina giggling over there at Alfred’s last night,” whispered someone in the crowd. And just as the fair was winding down, here came Sabrina, looking smug and carrying a purse full of money.
“Where’s Alfred?” asked Eli.
“Out cold in his rocking chair!” shrugged Sabrina.
“And where have you been?” pressed Eli, knowing full well where she had been.
“Taking care of my insurance,” she replied mysteriously.
“Insurance on what?” he continued, genuinely intrigued by her answer.
“On my BET MONEY, that’s what!”she laughed as she winked at Wilfred.
