fifty dollars. Finally he came to one between two deserted warehouses.
A sign over the entrance said: S LADE’S FOR THE L ATEST.
There was a gravel road going down the middle of the lot and over to one side near
the front, a tin shack with the word, O FFICE , painted on the door. The rest of the lot was full of old cars and broken machinery.
A white boy was sitting on a gasoline can in front of the office. He had the look
of being there to keep people out. He wore a black raincoat and his face was partly
hidden under a leather cap. There was a cigarette hanging out of one corner of his
mouth and the ash on it was about an inch long.
Haze started off toward the back of the lot where he saw a particular car. “Hey!”
the boy yelled. “You don’t just walk in here like that. I’ll show you what I got to
show,” but Haze didn’t pay any attention to him. He went on to ward the back of the
lot where he saw the car. The boy came huffing behind him, cursing. The car he saw
was on the last row of cars. It was a high rat-colored machine with large thin wheels
and bulging headlights. When he got up to it, he saw that one door was tied on with
a rope and that it had an oval window in the back. This was the car he was going to
buy.
“Lemme see Slade,” he said.
“What you want to see him for?” the boy asked in a testy voice. He had a wide mouth
and when he talked he used one side only of it.
“I want to see him about this car,” Haze said.
“I’m him,” the boy said. His face under the cap was like a thin picked eagle’s. He
sat down on the running board of a car across the gravel road and kept on cursing.
Haze walked around the car. Then he looked through the window at the inside of it.
Inside it was a dull greenish dust-color. The back seat was missing but it had a two-by-four
stretched across the seat frame to sit on. There were dark green fringed window shades
on the two side-back windows. He looked through the two front windows and he saw the
boy sitting on the running board of the car across the gravel road. He had one trouser
leg hitched up and he was scratching his ankle that stuck up out of a pulp of yellow
sock. He cursed far down in his throat as if he were trying to get up phlegm. The
two window glasses made him a yellow color and distorted his shape. Haze moved quickly
from the far side of the car and came around in front. “How much is it?” he asked.
“Jesus on the cross,” the boy said, “Christ nailed.”
“How much is it?” Haze growled, paling a little.
“How much do you think it’s worth?” the boy said. “Give us a estimit.”
“It ain’t worth what it would take to cart it off. I wouldn’t have it.”
The boy gave all his attention to his ankle where there was a scab. Haze looked up
and saw a man coming from between two cars over on the boy’s side. As he came closer,
he saw that the man looked exactly like the boy except that he was two heads taller
and he had on a sweat-stained brown felt hat. He was coming up behind the boy, between
a row of cars. When he got just behind him, he stopped and waited a second. Then he
said in a sort of controlled roar, “Get your butt off that running board!”
The boy snarled and disappeared, scrambling between two cars.
The man stood looking at Haze. “What you want?” he asked.
“This car here,” Haze said.
“Seventy-fi’ dollars,” the man said.
On either side of the lot there were two old buildings, reddish with black empty windows,
and behind there was another without any windows. “I’m obliged,” Haze said, and he
started back toward the office.
When he got to the entrance, he glanced back and saw the man about four feet behind
him. “We might argue it some,” he said.
Haze followed him back to where the car was.
“You won’t find a car like that ever’ day,” the man said. He sat down on the running
board that the boy had been sitting on.
A sign over the entrance said: S LADE’S FOR THE L ATEST.
There was a gravel road going down the middle of the lot and over to one side near
the front, a tin shack with the word, O FFICE , painted on the door. The rest of the lot was full of old cars and broken machinery.
A white boy was sitting on a gasoline can in front of the office. He had the look
of being there to keep people out. He wore a black raincoat and his face was partly
hidden under a leather cap. There was a cigarette hanging out of one corner of his
mouth and the ash on it was about an inch long.
Haze started off toward the back of the lot where he saw a particular car. “Hey!”
the boy yelled. “You don’t just walk in here like that. I’ll show you what I got to
show,” but Haze didn’t pay any attention to him. He went on to ward the back of the
lot where he saw the car. The boy came huffing behind him, cursing. The car he saw
was on the last row of cars. It was a high rat-colored machine with large thin wheels
and bulging headlights. When he got up to it, he saw that one door was tied on with
a rope and that it had an oval window in the back. This was the car he was going to
buy.
“Lemme see Slade,” he said.
“What you want to see him for?” the boy asked in a testy voice. He had a wide mouth
and when he talked he used one side only of it.
“I want to see him about this car,” Haze said.
“I’m him,” the boy said. His face under the cap was like a thin picked eagle’s. He
sat down on the running board of a car across the gravel road and kept on cursing.
Haze walked around the car. Then he looked through the window at the inside of it.
Inside it was a dull greenish dust-color. The back seat was missing but it had a two-by-four
stretched across the seat frame to sit on. There were dark green fringed window shades
on the two side-back windows. He looked through the two front windows and he saw the
boy sitting on the running board of the car across the gravel road. He had one trouser
leg hitched up and he was scratching his ankle that stuck up out of a pulp of yellow
sock. He cursed far down in his throat as if he were trying to get up phlegm. The
two window glasses made him a yellow color and distorted his shape. Haze moved quickly
from the far side of the car and came around in front. “How much is it?” he asked.
“Jesus on the cross,” the boy said, “Christ nailed.”
“How much is it?” Haze growled, paling a little.
“How much do you think it’s worth?” the boy said. “Give us a estimit.”
“It ain’t worth what it would take to cart it off. I wouldn’t have it.”
The boy gave all his attention to his ankle where there was a scab. Haze looked up
and saw a man coming from between two cars over on the boy’s side. As he came closer,
he saw that the man looked exactly like the boy except that he was two heads taller
and he had on a sweat-stained brown felt hat. He was coming up behind the boy, between
a row of cars. When he got just behind him, he stopped and waited a second. Then he
said in a sort of controlled roar, “Get your butt off that running board!”
The boy snarled and disappeared, scrambling between two cars.
The man stood looking at Haze. “What you want?” he asked.
“This car here,” Haze said.
“Seventy-fi’ dollars,” the man said.
On either side of the lot there were two old buildings, reddish with black empty windows,
and behind there was another without any windows. “I’m obliged,” Haze said, and he
started back toward the office.
When he got to the entrance, he glanced back and saw the man about four feet behind
him. “We might argue it some,” he said.
Haze followed him back to where the car was.
“You won’t find a car like that ever’ day,” the man said. He sat down on the running
board that the boy had been sitting on.
Similar Books
