jg.paintedhouse-第21节

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　　　This　story　was　repeated　so　that　kids　like　myself　would　appreciate　the　dangers　of　the　river。　Ricky　loved　to　scare　me　with　it；　but　often　got　his　versions　confused。　My　mother　said　it　was　all　fiction。
　　　Even　Brother　Akers　managed　to　weave　it　through　a　sermon　to　illustrate　how　Satan　was　always　at　work　spreading　misery　and　heartache　around　the　world。　I　was　awake　and　listening　very　closely；　and　when　he　left　out　the　part　about　the　broken　neck；　I　figured　he　was　exaggerating；　too。
　　　But　I　was　determined　not　to　drown。　The　fish　were　biting；　small　bream　that　I　hooked　and　threw　back。　I　found　a　seat　on　a　stump　near　a　lagoon　and　caught　one　fish　after　another。　It　was　almost　as　much　fun　as　playing　baseball。　The　afternoon　passed　slowly　by；　and　I　was　thankful　for　the　solitude。　Our　farm　was　crowded　with　strangers。　The　fields　were　waiting　with　the　promise　of　backbreaking　labor。　I'd　seen　a　man　get　killed；　and　I　had　somehow　gotten　myself　in　the　middle　of　it。
　　　The　gentle　rushing　sound　of　the　shallow　water　was　soothing。　Why　couldn't　I　just　fish　all　day？　Sit　by　the　river　in　the　shade？　Anything　but　pick　cotton。　I　wasn't　going　to　be　a　farmer。　I　didn't　need　the　practice。
　　　〃Luke；〃　came　my　father's　voice　from　down　the　bank。　I　pulled　in　the　hook　and　worm；　and　walked　to　where　they　were　sitting。
　　　〃Yes　sir；〃　I　said。
　　　〃Sit　down；〃　he　said。　〃Let's　talk。〃
　　　I　sat　at　the　very　edge　of　the　quilt；　as　far　from　them　as　possible。　They　didn't　appear　to　be　angry；　in　fact；　my　mother's　face　was　pleasant。
　　　But　my　father's　voice　was　stern　enough　to　worry　me。　〃Why　didn't　you　tell　us　about　the　fight？〃　he　asked。
　　　The　fight　that　wouldn't　go　away。
　　　I　wasn't　really　surprised　to　hear　the　question。　〃I　was　scared；　I　guess。〃
　　　〃Scared　of　what？〃
　　　〃Scared　of　gettin'　caught　behind　the　Co…op　watchin'　a　fight。〃
　　　〃Because　I　told　you　not　to；　right？〃　asked　my　mother。
　　　〃Yes　ma'am。　And　I'm　sorry。〃
　　　Watching　a　fight　was　not　a　major　act　of　disobedience；　and　all　three　of　us　knew　it。　What　were　boys　supposed　to　do　on　Saturday　afternoon　when　the　town　was　packed　and　excitement　was　high？　She　smiled　because　I　said　I　was　sorry。　I　was　trying　to　look　as　pitiful　as　possible。
　　　〃I'm　not　too　worried　about　you　watchin'　a　fight；〃　my　father　said。
　　　〃But　secrets　can　get　you　in　trouble。　You　shoulda　told　me　what　you　saw。〃
　　　〃I　saw　a　fight。　I　didn't　know　Jerry　Sisco　was　gonna　die。〃
　　　My　logic　stopped　him　for　a　moment。　Then　he　said；　〃Did　you　tell　Stick　Powers　the　truth？〃
　　　〃Yes　sir。〃　i
　　　〃Did　one　of　the　Siscos　pick　up　the　piece　of　wood　first？　Or　was　it　Hank　Spruill？〃
　　　If　I　told　the　truth；　then　I　would　be　admitting　that　I　had　lied　in　my　earlier　version。　Tell　the　truth　or　tell　a　lie；　that　was　the　question　that　always　remained。　I　decided　to　try　to　blur　things　a　bit。　〃Well；　to　be　honest；　Dad；　things　happened　so　fast。　There　were　bodies　fallin'　and　flyin'　everywhere。　Hank　was　just　throwin'　those　boys　around　like　little　toys。　And　the　crowd　was　movin'　and　hollerin'。　Then　I　saw　a　stick；　of　wood。〃　I
　　　Surprisingly；　this　satisfied　him。　After　all；　I　was　only　seven　years　old；　。　and　had　been　caught　up　in　a　mob　of　spectators；　all　watching　a　horrible　brawl　unfold　behind　the　Co…op。　Who　could　blame　me　if　I　wasn't　sure　about　what　happened？
　　　〃Don't　talk　to　anyone　about　this；　all　right？　Not　a　soul。〃
　　　〃Yes　sir。〃
　　　〃Little　boys　who　keep　secrets　from　their　parents　get　into　big　trouble；〃　my　mother　said。　〃You　can　always　tell　us。〃
　　　〃Yes　ma'am。〃
　　　〃Now　go　fish　some　more；〃　my　father　said；　and　I　ran　back　to　my　spot。
　
　
　Chapter　11
　　　
　　　The　week　began　in　the　semidarkness　of　Monday　morning。　We　met　at　the　trailer　for　the　ride　into　the　fields；　a　ride　that　grew　shorter　each　day　as　the　picking　slowly　moved　away　from　the　river　back　toward　the　house。
　　　Not　a　word　was　spoken。　Before　us　were　five　endless　days　of　overwhelming　labor　and　heat；　followed　by　Saturday；　which　on　Monday　seemed　as　far　away　as　Christmas。
　　　I　looked　down　from　my　perch　on　the　tractor　and　prayed　for　the　day　when　the　Spruills　would　leave　our　farm。　They　were　grouped　together；　as　dazed　and　sleepy　as　I　was。　Trot　was　not　with　them；　nor　would　he　be　joining　us　in　the　fields。　Late　Sunday；　Mr。　Spruill　had　asked　Pappy　if　it　would　be　all　right　if　Trot　hung　around　the　front　yard　all　day。　〃The　boy　can't　take　the　heat；〃　Mr。　Spruill　said。　Pappy　didn't　care　what　happened　to　Trot。　He　wasn't　worth　a　nickel　in　the　fields。
　　　When　the　tractor　stopped；　we　took　our　sacks　and　disappeared　into　the　rows　of　cotton。　Not　a　word　from　anyone。　An　hour　later；　the　sun　was　baking　us。　I　thought　of　Trot；　wasting　the　day　under　the　shade　tree；　napping　when　he　felt　like　it；　no　doubt　happy　about　the　work　he　was　missing。　He　might　have　been　a　little　off　in　the　head；　but　right　then　he　was　the　smartest　of　all　the　Spruills。
　　　Time　stopped　when　we　were　picking　cotton。　The　days　dragged　on；　each　yielding　ever　so　slowly　to　the　next。
　　　Over　supper　on　Thursday；　Pappy　announced；　〃We　won't　be　goin'　to　town　Saturday。〃
　　　I　felt　like　crying。　It　was　harsh　enough　to　labor　in　the　fields　all　week；　but　to　do　so　without　the　reward　of　popcorn　and　a　movie　was　downright　cruel。　What　about　my　weekly　Coca…Cola？
　　　A　long　silence　followed。　My　mother　watched　me　carefully。　She　did　not　seem　surprised；　and　I　got　the　impression　that　the　adults　had　already　had　this　discussion。　Now　they　were　just　going　through　the　motions　for　my　benefit。
　　　I　thought；　What　is　there　to　lose？　So　I　gritted　my　teeth　and　said；　〃Why　not？〃
　　　〃Because　I　said　so；〃　Pappy　fired　back　at　me；　and　I　knew　I　was　in　dangerous　territory。
　　　I　looked　at　my　mother。　There　was　a　curious　grin　on　her　face。
　　　〃You're　not　scared　of　the　Siscos；　are　you？〃　I　asked；　and　I　half…expected　one　of　the　men　to　make　a　grab　for　me。
　　　There　was　a　moment　of　deathly　silence。　My　father　cleared　his　throat　and　said；　〃It's　best　if　the　Spruills　stay　out　of　town　for　a　while。　We've　discussed　it　with　Mr。　Spruill；　and　we've　agreed　that　we'll　all　stay　put　Saturday。　Even　the　Mexicans。〃
　　　〃I　ain't　afraid　of　nobody；　son；〃　Pappy　growled　down　the　table。　I　refused　to　look　at　him。　〃And　don't　sass　me；〃　he　threw　in　for　good　measure。
　　　My　mother's　grin　was　still　firmly　in　place；　and　her　eyes　were　twinkling。　She　was　proud　of　me。
　　　〃I'll　need　a　couple　of　things　from　the　store；〃　Gran　said。　〃Some　flour　and　sugar。〃
　　　〃I'll　run　in；〃　Pappy　said。　〃I'm　sure　the　Mexicans'll　need　some　things；　too。〃
　　　Later；　they　moved　to　the　front　porch　for　our　ritual　of　sitting；　but　I　was　too　wounded　to　join　them。　I　lay　on　the　floor　of　Ricky's　room；　in　the　darkness；　listening　to　the　Cardinals　through　the　open　window　and　trying　to　ignore　the　soft；　slow　talk　of　the　adults。　I　tried　to　think　of　new　ways　to　hate　the　Spruills；　but　I　was　soon　overwhelmed　by　the　sheer　volume　of　their　misdeeds。　At　some　point　in　the　early　evening；　I　grew　too　still；　and　fell　asleep　on　the　floor。
　　　
　　　Lunch　on　Saturday　was　usually　a　happy　time。　The　work　week　was　over。　We　were　going　to　town。　If　I　could　survive　the　Saturday　scrubbing　on　the　back　porch；　then　life　was　indeed　wonderful；　if　only　for　a　few　hours。
　　　But　on　this　Saturday　there　was　no　excitement。　〃We'll　work　till　four；〃　Pappy　said；　as　if　he　was　doing　us　a　real　favor。　Big　deal。　We'd　knock　off　an　hour　early。　I　wanted　to　ask　him　if　we　were　going　to　work　on　Sunday；　too；　but　I'd　said　enough　on　Thursday　night。　He　was　ignoring　me　and　I　was　ignoring　him。　This　type　of　pouting　could　go　on　for　days。
　　　So　we　went　back　to　the　fields　instead　of　going　to　Black　Oak。　Even　the　Mexicans　seemed　irritated　by　this。　When　the　trailer　stopped；　we　took　our　sacks　and　slowly　disappeared　into　the　cotton。　I　picked　a　little　and　stalled　a　lot；　and　when　things　were　safe；　I　found　a　spot　and　went　down　for　a　nap。　They　could　banish　me　from　town；　they　could　force　me　into　the　fields；　but　they　couldn't　make　me　work　hard。　I　think　there　were　a　lot　of　naps　that　Saturday　afternoon。
　　　My　mother　found　me；　and　we　walked　to　the　house；　just　the　two　of　us。　She　was　not　feeling　well；　and　she　also　knew　the　injustice　that　was　being　inflicted　upon　me。　We　gathered　some　vegetables　from　the　garden；　but　only　a　few　things。　I　suffered　through　and　survived　the　dreaded　bath。　And　when　I　was　clean；　I　ventured　into　the　front　yard；　where　Trot　was　spending　his　days　guarding　Camp　Spruill。　We　had　no　idea　what　he　did　all　day；　no　one　really　cared。　We　were　too　busy　and　too　tired　to　worry　about　Trot。　I　found　him　sitting　behind　the　wheel　of　their　truck；　pretending　he　was　driving；　making　a　strange　sound　with　his　lips。　He　glanced　at　me　and　returned　to　his　driving　and　sputtering。
　　　When　I　heard　the　tractor　ing；　I　went　into　the　house；　where　I　found　my　mother　lying　on　her　bed；　something　she　never　did　during　the　day。　There　were　voices　around；　tired　voices　in　the　front；　where　the　Spruills　were　unwinding；　and　in　the　rear；　where　the　Mexicans　were　dragging　themselves　to　the　barn。　I　hid　in　Ricky's　room　for　a　while；　a　baseball　in　one　hand；　a　glove　on　the　other；　and　I　thought　of　Dewayne　and　the　Montgomery　twins　and　the　rest　of　my　friends　all　sitting　in　the　Dixie　watching　the　Saturday　feature　and　eating　popcorn。
　　　The　door　opened　and　Pappy　appeared。　〃I'm　goin'　to　Pop　and　Pearl's　for　a　few　things。　You　wanna　go？〃
　　　I　shook　my　head　no；　without　looking　at　him。
　　　〃I'll　buy　you　a　Coca…Cola；〃　he　said。
　　　〃No　thanks；