"I told you why."

"WHY?"

"Because I want to, that's why."

"You don't love him."

"Yes I do."

"Oh no you don't. You love me . . . you know you do. You know you do!"

"Idgie, I love him and I'm going to marry him."

Then Idgie went really crazy and started crying and screaming in a rage, "YOU'RE A LIAR AND I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE! I DONT EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE! I HATE YOU!"

Ruth took her by the shoulders and shook her as hard as she could. Tears were streaming down Idgie's face as she kept yelling, "I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL!"

Ruth said, "Stop it! Do you hear me!" And before she knew what had happened, she had slapped Idgie across the face with all her might.

Idgie looked at Ruth, speechless and stunned. They just stood there, looking at each other, and in that moment Ruth wished more than anything in the world that she could just grab her and hold her as tight as she could; but if she had, she knew she would never let go.

So Ruth did the hardest thing she had ever done in her life; she just turned around and left, and closed the door behind her.

FEBRUARY 9, 1986

Evelyn had brought a box of tacos from Taco Bell, three blocks from where she lived, and Mrs. Threadgoode was fascinated.

"This is the first foreign food I've ever had except for Franco-American spaghetti, and I like it." She looked at her taco. "This is about the size of a Chrystal burger, isn't it?"

Evelyn was anxious to find out more about Ruth and tried to change the subject. "Mrs. Threadgoode, did Ruth leave Whistle Stop that summer or did she stay?"

"They were the size of a biscuit, and had little chopped-up onions on them."

"What?"

"The Chrystal burgers."

"Oh, that's right, they did have little onions on them, but what about Ruth?"

"What about her?"

"I know she must have come back, but did she go back home that summer?"

"Oh yes indeed, she did. You know, you could get five of them for a quarter. Can you still do that?"

"I don't think so. When did she leave?"

"When? Oh let's see, it was July or August. No, it was August, that's right. I remember now. Are you sure you want to hear about her? I never give you a chance to say anything. I just talk and talk."

"No, Mrs. Threadgoode, it's fine. Go ahead."

"Are you sure you want to hear about these old-timy things?"

"Yes."

"Well, when the end of August came around, Momma and Poppa pleaded with Ruth to stay and help them get Idgie through her senior year of high school. They told her they'd pay her anything she asked. But Ruth said she couldn't. Said she was engaged to be married to a man over in Valdosta, that fall. But Sipsey told Momma and I that no matter what that girl said, she didn't want to go back over there to Georgia. Sipsey said every morning her pillow would be soaking wet with tears where she'd cried all night.

"I don't know what Ruth told Idgie the night before she left, but we heard Idgie go into her room, and a few minutes later, you never heard such a racket—it sounded like a jackass in a tin stall. She had taken one of Buddy's football trophies and broke out all of her windows, and anything else she could find. It was awful.

"I wouldn't have gone near that room, not for love nor money. . . .The next morning, she didn't even come out on the porch to tell Ruth goodbye. First Buddy, then Ruth. She just couldn't take it. The next day, Idgie was gone. She never did go back to school. She lacked one year of finishing.

"Oh, she would show up at the house every once in a while . . . when Poppa had his heart attack and when Julian and the girls got married.

"Big George was the only one who knew where she was and he would never betray her. Whenever Momma needed her, she'd tell Big George and he'd say to Momma that he'd pass it on if he happened to run into her. But she always got the message and would come home.

"Of course, I have my theories as to where she was . . ."

WARRIOR RIVER, ALABAMA

J. BATES, PROPRIETOR

AUGUST 30, I924

If you drove eight miles south of Whistle Stop, turned left on the river road, and went two more miles, you'd see a board nailed to a tree, that had been all shot up with buckshot. It read WAGON WHEEL CLUB AND CAMP, with an arrow pointing down a sandy road.

Idgie had been going down there with Buddy since she was eight. As a matter of fact, she was the one who had come down there to tell Eva that Buddy had been killed, because Idgie knew that Buddy loved her.

Buddy first met Eva when he was seventeen and she was nineteen. He knew that she had slept with a lot of men since she was twelve and had enjoyed it every time, but he didn't care. Eva was as easy with her body as she was with everything else, not at all like the Baptist girls at Whistle Stop. The first time she took him to bed, she made him feel like a man.

A big, buxom girl with a shock of rust-colored hair and apple-green eyes, Eva always wore colored beads and bright red lipstick, even when she went fishing. She didn't know the meaning of the word shame, and was indeed a friend to man.

She was not the sort of girl that most men would take home to Momma, but Buddy decided he would.

One Sunday, he brought her over to Whistle Stop for dinner, and afterward he took her over and showed her his poppa's store and made her an ice cream soda. Buddy was not a snob, but Leona was, and she nearly fainted at the table when she saw Eva. Eva, who was not a fool, told Buddy later that she had enjoyed seeing where he lived, but that she liked it better down at the river.

All the boys in town, made jokes about her and said dirty things whenever her name was mentioned, but not while Buddy was around. It was true that she had slept with whomever she pleased, whenever she pleased; but no matter what anybody thought or said, when she loved you, she was strictly a one-man woman. Eva belonged to Buddy, and as much as Buddy liked to flirt around, he belonged to Eva. She knew it and he knew it, and that's all that mattered.

Eva had the extreme luxury in life of not caring about what people thought of her. She had gotten that from her daddy, Big Jack Bates, a part-time bootlegger who weighed in at about three hundred pounds and loved to have a good time. He could eat and drink every other man in the county under the table.

Idgie used to beg Buddy to take her to the river with him, and sometimes he would. The River Club and Fishing Camp was just an old wooden shack with blue lights strung all around the porch, with a couple of rusty Royal Crown Cola signs and a faded ad for Goodyear tires stuck up by the door, and, around the back, a bunch of cabins with screened-in porches—but Idgie had fun when he brought her.

There was always a big gang of people out there on the weekends, and they'd play hillbilly music and dance and drink all night. Idgie would sit with Buddy and Big Jack and watch Eva, who could dance the tail off of a monkey.

One time, Buddy pointed to Eva and said, "Look at her, Idgie. Now, that's a woman. That's what makes life worth living, that redheaded woman."

Big Jack, who was crazy about laughed and slapped him on the back and said, "You think you're man enough to handle that girl of mine, boy?"

"I'm trying, Big Jack," Buddy said. "I may die trying, but I'm sure trying."

Pretty soon Eva would come over and get Buddy and they would go over to her cabin, and Idgie would sit with Big Jack and wait and watch him eat. One night he ate seven country-fried steaks and four bowls of mashed potatoes.