On the outskirts of town, there was a big old pecan tree by the cemetery fence. One evening two boys filled up a bucket with pecans and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.
“One for you, and one for me. One for you, one for me,” said one boy.

Several were dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate.

Sure enough, he heard, “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.”

He just knew what it was. “Oh my,” he shuddered, “It’s Satan and the Lord dividing the souls at the cemetery.”

He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

“Come here quick,” said the boy, “You won’t believe what I just heard. Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up souls.”

The man said. “Beat it, kid, can’t you see it’s hard for me to walk?”

When the boy insisted, the man hobbled to the cemetery. Standing by the fence they heard, “”One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.

The old man whispered, “Boy, you, you’ve been tellin’ the truth! Let’s see the devil himself.”

Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of Satan.

At last they heard, “One for you, one for me. And one last one for you. That’s all. Now let’s go get those nuts by the fence, and we’ll be done.”

They say the old guy made it back to town 5 minutes before the boy.

I’m still calling for pecan-related posts from other bloggers because here at Semicolon where November is Pecan Month. Stay with me through the month and you’ll learn how to pronounce the name of this delicious nut, where it originated, which figures from history have been fans of the pecan, how nutritious the pecan is, and much, much more than you ever wanted or needed to know about the pecan. I’m imitating Melville who had a chapter each in his epic, Moby Dick, about the head of the whale, the tail of the whale, ambergris, the skeleton of the whale, blubber, the whale’s dimensions, the whale’s spout, various substances found inside the whale, eating whale meat, and the whiteness of the whale. That’s not to mention all the chapters concerning whaling and whale ships and weapons used to kill a whale and laws related to the capture of whales.

If I have chosen a smaller, more delectable subject in the pecan, I believe I have not chosen a creation of God less worthy of study. Pecans are certainly more accessible here in Texas than whales. And they taste better in pies. And after five hundred plus pages of whaling, I’m ready for something different. So, bring on the pecans.