Reflections: In Hot Water

(Originally posted March 14, 2013)

Clay Broughton was a gentleman of habit.

He was a farmer and postmaster. Active in the community and his church, his opinion carried local weight and he was respected.

He lived an organized life, for the most part, in the home he shared with his wife, Hallie, at the north end of Main Street in New Madrid. There their nine children carried on their daily lives of excitement, exploration, and childish mischief.

Clay was above all of that, coming and going to work each day.

In the evenings, Clay would arrive at home. Hallie would draw him a hot bath and he would pour himself an evening drink before settling down in the steaming water to melt away the toil and worries of the day. It was a pleasant routine.

His three oldest children were boys, and each had his own interests, pursuits and view of how their father should be approached and respected.

One quiet hot summer day, son Tommy and friends went fishing in a local bayou. It was a fun day but the fishing wasn't very good, however they did manage to catch a couple of small eels. "They were about 18 inches long," recalled Tommy.

He brought them home in a bucket.

Missouri eels are rather nasty looking. Their dark slippery skin makes them resemble a snake, and they are powerful swimmers. Considered rather uncommon today, they were much more plentiful 50 years ago.

So there was Tommy at home with his two eels. What to do?

Well, he decided it would be fun if he put them in his father's bathwater.

He hid in the closet. His father disrobed and left the bathroom. Tommy slipped out of the closet, dumped the eels in the tub, then hid.

Clay came back in with his drink and, like every weekday evening, settled into the steaming water.

What happened next begs description.

"I heard this blood curdling scream," recalled Tommy. Although he didn't know it at the time, one of the eels had shot up straight Clay's belly to his chin.

"He rose up out the tub screaming. Then everyone else in the house, including mother, began screaming, except me. I started laughing."

That was the dead give-away.

Tommy made it downstairs just ahead of his father who was hard on his heels, buck naked. Out the back door they went; Clay gave up when Tommy jumped the back fence.

"Oh, once he cooled down he thought it was funny. But he didn't cool down for a while, and certainly not by the time I had to come in that evening."