right, and I wonder if it’s a dime or a piece of jewelry, but then I know nobody out here has any jewelry to lose, so I pick the dime up, rub the dirt off, look at it hard, hard as I’d look if it’d been a brooch, just because I’d found it, and finding anything of value is unusual, be it a dime or a man with clay-red skin or a young woman resting under a pecan tree.
And this is the first thing my husband ever said to me. He said, “This is something. You smoking a cigarette and it ninety-some-odd degrees out here.” He can burn right through to the heart of a thing. But I’d about had it withmen and their opinions of me so I told him it was my business how hot I was. Then he set the load down and said to me, “Well, if it’s your business, I reckon it’s your business.” I just smoked my cigarette and watched him. I thought he was sure to say something else just as curious.
He stood there and watched me too, and then he wanted to know who I was, what I was doing under Lonnie’s tree, how long I’d been there, if I was with the migrants, and if I was married. He got all those questions out before I could think up answers to any. I told him the truth to everything except the migrant question. I said I was travelling with them doing research. I think he knew I was lying, but he didn’t say anything, and he never has.
After I answered the question about being married, he wanted to know who to, and I told him, and that was a dead giveaway. But I didn’t back down. I just hoped he wouldn’t ask me anything else. I said, “I’m married to John Woodrow. He’s one of the workers, but see, I met him at the beginning of my research. He’s a great help with my work.” The more I talked, the deeper in I got. When I stopped he thought for a minute and said, “John Woodrow. He’s that one they found cut up last night.”
You can’t imagine what was going through my head. I told him to tell me everything he knew. He said it might upset me, but I told him to please go on and tell me. So he told me Lonnie had gotten a call late the night beforefrom the sheriff, and that he’d had to get up and go to town, to the hospital and the jailhouse. Apparently, what happened was John Woodrow left that girl and her baby somewhere and got up with some of his drinking buddies, the sorriest of the sorriest, as Jack would call them, and they all went to a pool hall in town, and one thing led to another and they all got in a drunk fight with some other sorriness and when all was said and done, one was in jail, one was missing, and John Woodrow was in the hospital. The sheriff figured they were migrants, and he knew Lonnie had just gotten a new crew in, so he called him, and sure enough, they were his. He said word wasn’t out yet, that the crew chief probably didn’t know, more than likely wouldn’t care. He said Lonnie wouldn’t have cared except that it aggravated him to have to get up and go to town in the middle of the night.
Jack also told me I should come to his house if I needed him for anything, and he pointed it out to me across the field. When he said “needed” and “anything” I knew he meant food, money, somewhere to rest awhile. And then he told me his name, his whole name the way he enjoys saying it, “stokes the fire, stokes the stove, stokes the fiery furnace of hell!”
Tiny Fran interrupted us, calling me inside to find her blessed crackers, and at first I thought she might have something nasty to say about John Woodrow being hurt,but then I realized she wouldn’t associate me with the mess at all, if her daddy’d even mentioned it in the house. I didn’t have a last name there. I was either just Ruby or “that girl.” So I decided to use that time of nobody knowing to rest in and gather up what strength I’d need when everything came at me, when all those workers would turn their petty curiosity on me. I just turned it all off. All I’d ever heard from John Woodrow was how ignorant I was, so
And this is the first thing my husband ever said to me. He said, “This is something. You smoking a cigarette and it ninety-some-odd degrees out here.” He can burn right through to the heart of a thing. But I’d about had it withmen and their opinions of me so I told him it was my business how hot I was. Then he set the load down and said to me, “Well, if it’s your business, I reckon it’s your business.” I just smoked my cigarette and watched him. I thought he was sure to say something else just as curious.
He stood there and watched me too, and then he wanted to know who I was, what I was doing under Lonnie’s tree, how long I’d been there, if I was with the migrants, and if I was married. He got all those questions out before I could think up answers to any. I told him the truth to everything except the migrant question. I said I was travelling with them doing research. I think he knew I was lying, but he didn’t say anything, and he never has.
After I answered the question about being married, he wanted to know who to, and I told him, and that was a dead giveaway. But I didn’t back down. I just hoped he wouldn’t ask me anything else. I said, “I’m married to John Woodrow. He’s one of the workers, but see, I met him at the beginning of my research. He’s a great help with my work.” The more I talked, the deeper in I got. When I stopped he thought for a minute and said, “John Woodrow. He’s that one they found cut up last night.”
You can’t imagine what was going through my head. I told him to tell me everything he knew. He said it might upset me, but I told him to please go on and tell me. So he told me Lonnie had gotten a call late the night beforefrom the sheriff, and that he’d had to get up and go to town, to the hospital and the jailhouse. Apparently, what happened was John Woodrow left that girl and her baby somewhere and got up with some of his drinking buddies, the sorriest of the sorriest, as Jack would call them, and they all went to a pool hall in town, and one thing led to another and they all got in a drunk fight with some other sorriness and when all was said and done, one was in jail, one was missing, and John Woodrow was in the hospital. The sheriff figured they were migrants, and he knew Lonnie had just gotten a new crew in, so he called him, and sure enough, they were his. He said word wasn’t out yet, that the crew chief probably didn’t know, more than likely wouldn’t care. He said Lonnie wouldn’t have cared except that it aggravated him to have to get up and go to town in the middle of the night.
Jack also told me I should come to his house if I needed him for anything, and he pointed it out to me across the field. When he said “needed” and “anything” I knew he meant food, money, somewhere to rest awhile. And then he told me his name, his whole name the way he enjoys saying it, “stokes the fire, stokes the stove, stokes the fiery furnace of hell!”
Tiny Fran interrupted us, calling me inside to find her blessed crackers, and at first I thought she might have something nasty to say about John Woodrow being hurt,but then I realized she wouldn’t associate me with the mess at all, if her daddy’d even mentioned it in the house. I didn’t have a last name there. I was either just Ruby or “that girl.” So I decided to use that time of nobody knowing to rest in and gather up what strength I’d need when everything came at me, when all those workers would turn their petty curiosity on me. I just turned it all off. All I’d ever heard from John Woodrow was how ignorant I was, so
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