The Pecan Man (23 page)

Patrice is handling the details
of my confession. I didn't ask and I really don't want to know what the process
will be. My goal is to clear Eddie's name and to admit what I did to help
conceal who really killed Skipper Kornegay. As I said when I first began this
story, I reckon there will be a few who wish I had kept my mouth shut. The ones
who would truly be impacted are dead, though, and can surely rest in peace. As
for me, I've not had a moment's peace since the day my first lie was told. I'm
determined to go to my grave with a clear conscience, and I just can't do that
until I tell the truth about Grace.

Maybe now, that precious girl
can face her
real
demons and find her way in the world. I hope so. Lord
knows I pray that she does.

A Note
from the Author

I was
born and raised in Central Florida and, except for three formative years in
Thomasville, Georgia and three more in Charlotte, NC where I met my true love
and best friend, Perry Selleck, I have lived in Florida all my life.  Sometime
in the 90’s my parents retired and moved to North Florida to escape the rapid
(or maybe I should say rabid) growth that had made what I call my “hometown”
nearly unrecognizable.  In 1998 Perry and I bought a piece of land on the
Suwannee River that included a single-wide mobile home on stilts, intending to
build a weekend home of sorts. Using chain saws and help from my brothers, we
split that trailer into three parts, pushed it off its moorings and hauled it
to the salvage yard.  We spent nearly every weekend for the next three years
driving to Mayo to work on our river house. Not long after it was livable, we
decided we’d had enough of the growth ourselves and moved our family, which included
our daughter Emily and our yappy little redhead Lucy, to the river. Thus began
an adventure that almost immediately gave birth to the characters in The Pecan
Man. (Note:  the title word is pronounced Pee’-can)

One day
in 2001, while coming back from the grocery store in Live Oak, I passed an old
man riding a rumpled and rusted old bicycle down a narrow country road. Shortly
after that, I passed a man picking up pecans in the front yard of his weathered
old house. By the time I got home, I had the bones of my story and the three
main characters, Ora Lee Beckworth, Blanche Lowery and Eldred Mims formed in my
mind. Once I wrote the first chapter or two, the characters began to live and
breathe and I allowed them to write the rest of their story. I make no
apologies for my choice in writing the dialect as I hear the characters speak.
These voices are as real to me as the characters themselves. And while they are
all completely fictitious and are not intended to represent any real person,
living or dead, I must admit that they all have characteristics of many people
I have known.

The
setting is the fictional town of Mayville, but some of the landmarks will be
familiar to those in my hometown of Leesburg, Florida.  Growing up in Central
Florida during such a pivotal time in the Civil Rights era definitely
influenced my perspective on the issue of race. I hope readers will forgive Ora
her mistakes and celebrate her growth. She is a flawed character to be sure, as
are we all.