Messieur BedasM. Bedas was indeed a strange neighbor, who had a quaint old store and a most interesting and good wife. He was known primarily as "Bedad," but this is a name which no one used in his presence. He owned a fair extent of land, which tenant farmers farmed, but his main possession appeared to be his store. It was a large, old, wooden building, rectangular in shape, and smelling of old wood rubbed with kerosene. He sold kerosene and virtually every item legally marketable in Avoyelles Parish. He sold gasoline from an ancient Gulf Oil pump which had the volume of fuel indicated by markers on a large glass container which sat atop the pump; the customer would have to wait to see the amount of gas pumped up into the container before it could be introduced by the force of gravity into the vehicle's tank. M. Bedas sold dry goods. His dry goods section took up over one-third of his floor space and was separated from the rest of the store (a protection against rats and other predators) by a wire porch screen. He sold farm implements and canned goods and from an ancient upright refrigerator he sold cheeses and meats. From a red Coca-Cola icebox with a sliding door he sold a variety of soft drinks, which were always very cold and wet. He sold feed and fertilizer and seeds and cutlery and paper products. In short, M. Bedas sold everything, but his store was not well kept and displayed no particular order.
M. Bedas' dwelling was also unforgettable. His house was near the store and since his business did not justify his remaining in his store at all times, it was necessary for customers to call to him to come to the store. "Messieur Bedas, Messieur Bedas, vous pouvez venir au magasin?" This had to be called out at haute voix several times before he would leave his living quarters, where, presumably, he was attempting to listen to a radio program. But the interior of his house was well known to all the neighbors, since during the months of May and October the neighbors went to the Ducotes for the recitation of the rosary. While in these mild months it was possible to avoid entering the living room by having the recitation take place on the ample front porch, there were occasions when inclement weather forced the neighbors to cross the threshhold. It was a living room of wonder, perpetually heavy with the odor of talcum powder mixed with kerosne. There were heavy draperies lying upon heavy library tables and atop these draperies sat massive roosters and dogs made of painted over clay or pottery of some kind. The expression of both roosters and dogs was grotesque and quixotic. The rooster was caught in the act of crowing and the dogs' muzzles reflected great agony.
M. Bedas had a small wife who was known to have learned to read and write French, and who walked bent over as if carrying a great load. She spoke with the small voice of a wounded bird and her conversation was largely given to describing the various pains which she was experiencing at the moment. Ca me fait mal ici, she would say, touching her rib area, or Ca me gêne la, she would say, indicating her throat. When she walked her bending was emphasized by her holding out her right hand behind her, as if she needed this to keep her balance. Besides being respected as one who could read and write (and in French!) she was known to be a most generous person who was ever prepared to share all she had with a neighbor in need and who could be counted on to keep a vigil at the bedside of any sick person, whether adult or child. Mme. Bedas had been known to walk, bent and hand extended behind her, to Clamille Ortego's store on the rare occasions when her husband left in the car without her. The subject of her purchases at the competitor's store was a topic of lively speculation.
The car which M. Bedas owned was also strange. It was a black 1937 Chevrolet, four-door, with a trunk which was attached at the very back and which opened from the top. The car resided in a collapsing garage which was attached to the store. On certain days he and Mme. Bedas would take the car to town and the car's departure was the signal to go to M. Bedas' store. In his absence the daughter, Tat, served as the clerk and she was known for giving generous portions of everything and of being vague in recording purchases in the little books used to keep track of purchases "on credit." M. Bedas' own bookkeeping was known to be so cavalier that there was never any real fear that Tat's indiscretions would be detected.
Two incidents are crucial to the story of M. Bedas: the sausage biting and the attempt at flight. The sausage incident is this: it was the storekeeper's practice, when weighing sausage and finding that the amount on the scale was slightly in excess of what the customer had requested, to bite off the excess right there on the spot. Some recount the incident and claim that it was cheese, not sausage, which had been consumed in the interest of assuring an exact weight. Regardless of whether or not it was sausage or cheese, the fact remains that M. Bedas was a strange storekeeper.
The attempt at flight was more dramatic. M. Bedas is alleged to have attached wings to his arms, wings of his own design featuring chicken feathers, and, having climbed to the roof or the upper story of one of his barns, attempted to fly. It is claimed that he did not fly at all and that he suffered serious injuries as a result of his foolish attempt at flying.