An American in Kentucky Waiting for Aaron Copland in the Moonlight

clothes with her new Sunday voile, and burned everything on the trash pile. Then she half-filled a bucket with hot water, added a healthy dose of FeIs Naptha and scrubbed the horsehair car seat. Every day for a week she tried to scrub out the nagging spot. "Mrs. Hepworth. You smell anything funny in this car?" Leola asked when she dropped off a prescription the following Saturday. "Why no, Leola, I don't. What am I suppose to smell?" O-lee shrugged. "Must be my imagination then." But she knew the odor was still there. Because of the war, they had to keep their Ford. So many men in town were drafted that Leola was one of the few drivers left and the only driver in her missionary society. Every day after work she ran errands or carried church members to town. She was anointed bus driver for Sunday services. But no matter what the weather, hot or cold, wet or dry, Leola drove with the windows down, even when her congregation complained. One steamy July afternoon Leola dropped off her last passenger. "It's just too hot to be driving around like this. I'm plumb exhausted." She glanced at Katie Belle out of the corner of her eye. "Katie, you might just as well learn to drive and help me out." "No, I don't think so." Recalling her earlier lesson, Katie Belle dismissed the suggestion. Then she folded her hands in her lap, her fingers interlaced confidently , her thumbs propped against each other like a church entrance. "Wanting to drive was just one of my tizzies. You know how the heat affects my brain." Then Katie Belle smiled. An American in Kentucky Waiting for Aaron Copland in the Moonlight Where are you Aaron Copland when I need you most lucid melody echoing through the valley George keeps playing Rapsody in Blue I'd rather hear Appalachian Spring why do I always think west Pennsylvania's east there is no more west no more landscapes Quiet City Our Town infertile ground polluted with noise confusion my tomatos wouldn't grow last year maybe their pots weren't big enough but they fit just right on my balcony in the moonlight Romeo's never down there where are the people locked within compartments asleep they can't hear George playing George locked me out here on the balcony I banged and banged glass doors nobody heard I thought about jumping over the railing I might end up a tomato and they don't grow up here I think I'll sit in the moonlight until morning and wait for Aaron Copland. —Nettie Farris 16 ...