Back in the Fold

I had the same pair of twin beds throughout my entire childhood. No matter where we lived--New Orleans, Austin, New Orleans again, and Jackson, Mihhihhippi--I used the same frames as either bunkbeds or twin beds. They were easily convertible, depending on mood, age, and room size. I knew the curve of the headboards intimately, the noise they made when I jumped into them (or on them), and can vividly recall the shade of pale yellow they were painted for most of my childhood.

After high school graduation, as I packed up to go to UT, my mother decided to move into a smaller place. Not a bad idea, as I was going to be far away and only home for the holidays. (And after the first year, I was hardly home at all). All she needed was one bedroom and a sofa-bed for my infrequent appearances and she would be fine. So, we didn't need the twin beds anymore. In those years my mother ran with a younger set (she still does, now that I think about it) and in that set was a woman who bartended at the coolest bar in Jackson, was newly married and pregnant, and could use a set of beds for children. So they were passed along to this young couple and honestly, I didn't think about them again.

Flash forward 15 or so years. Pod and his bandmates were slowly coming together again--after a few years adrift thanks to marriage, babies, careers, life in other words-- to form what would become The Dentones. Alain, the drummer (and coincidentally, someone who Pod has known since they were toddlers, as their moms are great friends) got their first gig at a party for a coworker. I missed the show for some reason, but after their small acoustic set, Pod struck up a conversation with some of Alain's coworkers. And one of them was from Jackson. Pod said, "you must know my mother-in-law because she knows everyone in Jackson." (This is true. I mean, literally, she knows everyone in Jackson.) And as it turned out, this coworker of Alain's did in fact know my mother, said immediately, "you must be married to Bookhart," and then mentioned that he and his wife had some twin beds that once belonged to me.

Small world. Tiny world.

So, over the past few years, we've seen this very nice couple at Dentones gigs, and a few weeks back, they happened to mention that their oldest daughter (now 18) would be going off to college in the fall, and would we be interested in having the twin beds back?

Um, hell yeah. Hay-yull yeah. We've been wanting bunk beds for Wonder Boy for years but somehow never got around to buying them. If the money was there, the inclination wasn't and if the inclination was there, the money wasn't.

I mentioned this with some excitement to my mother (because, as any one who has seen my house knows, the Bookhart family only buys new furniture if we can't inherit it) and she dropped a bombshell on me. Did I know that not only were these my twin beds but they had also been my father's as a child?

Um, no, I hadn't known that. So I was even more excited.

This Saturday, this couple borrowed a truck and brought over the beds. I thought we might repaint them, but Wonder Boy was over the moon about them, they were in lovely shape, so we decided to set them up right away. And as I was looking at the various pieces I noticed that one of the slats bore a very old shipping label from a company in Memphis. And in very faded copperplate handwriting was the address where they were sent. Which was "To: Mr. H.H. [my maiden name], Alexandria." H.H. being my paternal grandfather in Alexandria, Louisiana, where my dad was born and where he lived until about 1942 or so, when H.H. (Hubert Hudson, also known as "Pat") died at a very young age.

So there, a clear provenance for the beds. Also, a chance for me to think about my grandfather (who, obviously, I only know from photographs) buying his young son--my father--a brand-new bunkbed. And of the love he must have had for my father, and the pride he must have had when they arrived. (Because this was the late 30s/early 40s, not the most prosperous time in the Deep South.)

So now, they are back in the family, in Wonder Boy's room, and he loves them.

I cannot tell you how happy this confluence of events has made me.