Gold Dust by Reavis Z. Wortham: A review

This book was a heady mix of cattle rustlers, murderers, grave robbers, CIA turncoats, and rural crime families, and all of it is centered in the little northeast Texas community of Center Springs. We experience it all mostly through the characters of teenage cousins Top Parker and Pepper Parker.

Top lives with his grandparents. His grandfather is the local constable, Ned Parker, who is charged with keeping the community safe and keeping the kids on an even keel. He's a man who has lived a lot of years and has garnered a lot of common sense along the way. His wife doesn't get as much ink in these stories, but of course, it is she who is the glue that holds everything together.

The plot this time involves government experimentation with a biological agent that is alleged to be benign but may not be. When a crop duster sprays the stuff over the area and Top comes in contact with it, the boy, who already suffers from asthma, lands in the hospital fighting for his life. His grandfather seeks answers for what has happened to Top and ends up heading to Washington, D.C. to find those answers.

There is a subplot here involving Pepper who found a mysterious gold coin and spreads some wild story about it which generates a "gold rush" in the area as strangers rush in to try to discover the cache of gold. Pepper is a headstrong girl and though she can be pretty annoying at times, I admit I quite like her.

This tale is set in the late 1960s and I felt that Reavis Wortham pretty well nailed the ambiance of the period in that part of the world. The dialogue among his characters and his descriptions of those characters seemed spot on. I recognized several of them among people I had known in East Texas during the'70s.

This is actually the seventh book in this Red River mystery series. I used to be a stickler for reading a series in order but I've given up on that - life is just too short. I have found, however, that most writers of series do a reasonably good job in each new entry of cluing the reader in on all the necessary background and that is the case with Wortham. I had read only one other book in the series (Unraveled which I read earlier this summer) but I still felt comfortable with what I knew about the recurring characters and their relationships. I may eventually go back and read some of the earlier ones whenever I feel the need for an undemanding comfort read.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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