The Hawkins Ranch in Texas by Furse Margaret Lewis;

Author:Furse, Margaret Lewis; [Furse, Margaret Lewis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Texas A&M University Press
Published: 2014-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

SISTER AND ESKER

When Sister and Esker arrived at any family gathering, it almost always created a little laughter, a little stir of delight that everyone felt when they joined the group. Esker’s charm derived from a capable, takecharge generosity. Sister’s came from a captivating vulnerability and the ease with which she laughed at herself. If there had been some news of the day that came from her encounters with the grocer or the hairdresser or the cook, she would create some laughter out of it at her own expense.

My parents, Jim and Meta, often walked over to Janie’s on summer evenings from their house down the street, as did Rowland and Daughty, my great-uncle and aunt, who lived within the same block. Sister and Esker rarely walked. There was only one time that I can think of, and it came in later years, that Sister would have been willing to walk three or four blocks: when she was trying to take exercise in order to “reduce.” For the few weeks in their lives while she was undertaking this effort, Sister and Uncle Esker got out after supper and walked a planned route together, as if he had weight to lose too.

Esker was tall, manly, and gifted as an athlete. He was also a splendid ballroom dancer who knew how to give his partner a confident lead and to keep perfect time with good grace. He taught me the Charleston. As a boy he had played baseball and had briefly been a practice pitcher for a semiprofessional team. “I learned a lot that way,” he said. In school he played football, and early in his marriage he took up tennis. It was played at night on a lighted court made of concrete. The local editor and sports writer, Cary Smith Jr., praised him for a feat of sportsmanship when, instead of taking advantage of his opponent who had slipped down, he chose to return an easy lob to give his opponent more time. Later, when a golf course was built, he was the course champion year after year.

My father and Esker were officers in the local bank. As the cashier of the bank, Esker signed his name with model handwriting, finishing with a little flourish, just for the pleasure of the motion. He was quick to hold a chair for a lady, to open the door for guests and give them a warm greeting, and when departing guests needed help backing out of the driveway, he was out of doors in a flash, waving them on.

He was a favorite with children because he was patient and enjoyed instructing us in practical skills we found enjoyable, like teaching a dog to fetch. He knew some tricks with coins and handkerchiefs, and he had strong arms and shoulders and could lift us up with an easy swing. One evening in my childhood when I had supper with Aunt Sister and Uncle Esker, he announced for my benefit that as supper was finished,

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