jg.paintedhouse-第69部分

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　　　〃Get　in　the　truck！〃　he　said。
　　　The　baby　cried　out；　and　my　mother　quickly　jumped　in。　I　ducked　behind　the　truck　and　ran　as　fast　as　I　could　toward　the　street。
　　　Behind　me　I　heard　another　cry；　one　not　nearly　as　loud；　then　the　truck　started　moving。
　　　I　ran　to　the　hardware　store；　back　to　the　paint　counter；　where　I　asked　the　clerk　for　three　gallons　of　white　Pittsburgh　Paint。
　　　〃Only　got　two；〃　he　said。
　　　I　was　too　surprised　to　say　anything。　How　could　a　hardware　store　run　out　of　paint？　〃I　should　have　some　in　by　next　Monday；〃　he　said。
　　　〃Gimme　two；〃　I　said。
　　　I　was　sure　two　gallons　wouldn't　finish　the　front　of　the　house；　but　I　gave　him　six　one…dollar　bills；　and　he　handed　me　the　change。　〃Let　me　get　these　for　you；〃　he　said。
　　　〃No；　I　can　do　it；〃　I　said；　reaching　for　the　two　buckets。　I　strained　to　lift　them；　then　waddled　down　the　aisle；　almost　tipping　over。　I　lugged　them　out　of　the　store　and　to　the　sidewalk。　I　looked　both　ways　for　traffic；　and　I　listened　for　the　wail　of　a　sick　baby。　Thankfully　the　town　was　quiet。
　　　Pearl　reappeared　on　the　sidewalk　in　front　of　her　store；　eyes　darting　in　all　directions。　I　hid　behind　a　parked　car。　Then　I　saw　our　truck　ing　south；　barely　moving；　looking　very　suspicious。　My　father　saw　me　and　rolled　to　a　stop　in　the　middle　of　the　street。　I　yanked　the　two　buckets　up　with　all　the　might　I　could　muster　and　ran　to　the　truck。　He　jumped　out　to　help　me。　I　leapt　into　the　back　of　the　truck；　and　he　handed　me　the　paint。　I　preferred　to　ride　back　there；　away　from　the　littlest　Latcher。　Just　when　my　father　got　behind　the　wheel　again；　the　baby　let　out　a　yelp。
　　　The　truck　lurched　forward；　and　the　baby　was　quiet。　I　yelled；　〃Howdy；　Pearl！〃　as　we　sped　past。
　　　Libby　was　sitting　on　the　front　steps　with　Gran；　waiting　for　us。　When　the　truck　stopped；　the　baby　began　bawling。　The　women　rushed　it　to　the　kitchen；　where　they　began　stuffing　it　with　ice　cream。
　　　〃Ain't　enough　gasoline　in　Craighead　County　to　keep　that　thing　quiet；〃　my　father　said。
　　　Fortunately；　the　ice　cream　soothed　it。　Little　Latcher　fell　asleep　in　his　mother's　arms。
　　　Because　vanilla　ice　cream　had　worked　when　I'd　had　colic；　this　cure　was　taken　as　further　evidence　that　the　baby　was　part　Chandler。　I　was　not　exactly　forted　by　this。
　
　
　Chapter　35
　　　
　　　Having　a　barn　full　of　Latchers　was　an　event　that　we　certainly　had　not　planned　on。　And　while　we　were　at　first　forted　by　our　own　Christian　charity　and　neighborliness；　we　were　soon　interested　in　how　long　they　might　be　with　us。　I　broached　the　subject　first　over　supper　when；　after　a　long　discussion　about　the　day's　events；　I　said；　〃Reckon　how　long　they'll　stay？〃
　　　Pappy　had　the　opinion　that　they　would　be　gone　as　soon　as　the　floodwaters　receded。　Living　in　another　farmer's　barn　was　tolerable　under　the　most　urgent　of　circumstances；　but　no　one　with　an　ounce　of　self…respect　would　stay　a　day　longer　than　necessary。
　　　〃What　are　they　gonna　eat　when　they　go　back？〃　Gran　asked。　〃There's　not　a　crumb　of　food　left　in　that　house。〃　She　went　on　to　predict　that　they'd　be　with　us　until　springtime。
　　　My　father　speculated　that　their　dilapidated　house　couldn't　withstand　the　flood；　and　that　there'd　be　no　place　for　them　to　return　to。　Plus；　they　had　no　truck；　no　means　of　transportation。　They'd　been　starving　on　their　land　for　the　last　ten　years。　Where　else　would　they　go？　Pappy　seemed　a　little　depressed　by　this　view。
　　　My　mother　mainly　listened；　but　at　one　point　she　did　say　that　the　Latchers　were　not　the　type　of　people　who'd　be　embarrassed　by　living　in　someone　else's　barn。　And　she　worried　about　the　children；　not　only　the　obvious　problems　of　health　and　nutrition；　but　also　their　education　and　spiritual　growth。
　　　Pappy's　prediction　of　a　swift　departure　was　batted　around　the　table　and　eventually　voted　down。　Three　against　one。　Four；　if　you　counted　my　vote。
　　　〃We'll　survive；〃　Gran　said。　〃We　have　enough　food　to　feed　us　and　them　all　winter。　They're　here；　they　have　no　place　else　to　go；　and　we'll　take　care　of　them。〃　No　one　was　about　to　argue　with　her。
　　　〃God　gave　us　a　bountiful　garden　for　a　reason；〃　she　added；　nodding　at　my　mother。　〃In　Luke；　Jesus　said；　'Invite　the　poor；　the　crippled；　the　lame；　the　blind；　and　you　will　be　blessed。　'〃
　　　〃We'll　kill　two　hogs　instead　of　one；〃　Pappy　said。　〃We'll　have　plenty　of　meat　for　the　winter。〃
　　　The　hog…killing　would　e　in　early　December；　when　the　air　was　cold　and　the　bacteria　dead。　Every　year　a　hog　was　shot　in　the　head；　dipped　in　boiling　water；　and　hung　from　a　tree　next　to　the　tool　shed；　then　gutted　and　butchered　into　a　thousand　pieces。　From　it　we　got　bacon；　ham；　loin；　sausage；　and　ribs。　Everything　was　used…tongue；　brains；　feet。　〃Everything　but　the　squeal〃　was　a　line　I'd　heard　all　my　life。　Mr。　Jeter　from　across　the　road　was　a　fair　butcher。　He　would　supervise　the　gutting；　then　perform　the　delicate　removals。　For　his　time　he　took　a　fourth　of　the　best　cuts。
　　　My　first　memory　of　a　hog…killing　was　that　I　ran　behind　the　house　and　puked。　With　time；　though；　I'd　e　to　look　forward　to　it。　If　you　wanted　ham　and　bacon；　you　had　to　kill　a　hog。　But　it　would　take　more　than　two　hogs　to　feed　the　Latchers　until　spring。　There　were　eleven　of　them；　including　the　baby；　who　at　the　moment　was　living　off　vanilla　ice　cream。
　　　As　we　talked　about　them；　I　began　to　dream　of　heading　North。
　　　The　trip　now　seemed　more　appealing。　I　had　sympathy　for　the　Latchers；　and　I　was　proud　that　we'd　rescued　them。　I　knew　that　as　Christians　we　were　expected　to　help　the　poor。　I　understood　all　that；　but　I　could　not　imagine　living　through　the　winter　with　all　those　little　kids　running　around　our　farm。　I'd　start　back　to　school　very　soon。　Would　the　Latchers　go　with　me？　Since　they　would　be　new　students；　would　I　be　expected　to　show　them　around？　What　would　my　friends　think？　I　saw　nothing　but　humiliation。
　　　And　now　that　they　lived　with　us；　it　was　just　a　matter　of　time　before　the　big　secret　got　out。　Ricky　would　be　fingered　as　the　father。　Pearl　would　figure　out　where　all　the　vanilla　ice　cream　was　going。　Something　would　leak　somehow；　and　we'd　be　ruined。
　　　〃Luke；　are　you　finished？〃　my　father　asked；　jolting　me　from　my　thoughts。
　　　My　plate　was　clean。　Everyone　looked　at　it。　They　had　adult　matters　to　discuss。　It　was　my　cue　to　go　find　something　to　do。
　　　〃Supper　was　good。　May　I　be　excused？〃　I　said；　reciting　my　standard　lines。
　　　Gran　nodded　and　I　went　to　the　back　porch　and　pushed　the　screen　door　so　that　it　would　slam。　Then　I　slid　back　into　the　darkness　to　a　bench　by　the　kitchen　door。　From　there　I　could　hear　everything。　They　were　worried　about　money。　The　crop　loan　would　be　〃rolled　over〃　until　next　spring；　and　they　would　deal　with　it　then。　The　other　farming　bills　could　be　delayed；　too；　though　Pappy　hated　the　thought　of　riding　his　creditors。
　　　Surviving　the　winter　was　much　more　urgent。　Food　was　not　a　concern。　We　had　to　have　money　for　such　necessities　as　electricity；　gas　and　oil　for　the　truck；　and　staples　like　coffee；　flour；　and　sugar。　What　if　someone　got　sick　and　needed　a　doctor　or　medicine？　What　if　the　truck　broke　down　and　needed　parts？
　　　〃We　haven't　given　anything　to　the　church　this　year；〃　Gran　said。
　　　Pappy　estimated　that　as　much　as　thirty　percent　of　the　crop　was　still　out　there；　standing　in　water。　If　the　weather　broke　and　things　got　dry；　we　might　be　able　to　salvage　a　small　portion　of　it。　That　would　provide　some　ine；　but　the　gin　would　keep　most　of　it。　Neither　he　nor　my　father　was　optimistic　about　picking　any　more　cotton　in　1952。
　　　The　problem　was　cash。　They　were　almost　out　of　it；　and　there　was　no　hope　of　any　ing　in。　They　barely　had　enough　to　pay　for　electricity　and　gasoline　until　Christmas。
　　　〃Jimmy　Dale's　holdin'　a　job　for　me　at　the　Buick　plant；〃　my　father　said。　〃But　he　can't　wait　long。　The　jobs　are　tight　right　now。　We　need　to　get　on　up　there。〃
　　　According　to　Jimmy　Dale；　the　current　wage　was　three　dollars　an　hour；　for　forty　hours　a　week；　but　overtime　was　available；　too。　〃He　says　I　can　earn　close　to　two　hundred　dollars　a　week；〃　my　father　said。
　　　〃We'll　send　home　as　much　as　we　can；〃　my　mother　added。
　　　Pappy　and　Gran　went　through　the　motions　of　protesting；　but　everyone　knew　the　decision　had　been　made。　I　heard　a　noise　in　the　distance；　a　vaguely　familiar　sound。　As　it　drew　closer；　I　cringed　and　wished　I'd　hidden　on　the　front　porch。
　　　The　baby　was　back；　upset　again　and　no　doubt　craving　vanilla　ice　cream。　I　sneaked　off　the　porch　and　walked　a　few　steps　toward　the　barn。　In　the　shadows　I　saw　Libby　and　Mrs。　Latcher　approaching　the　house。　I　ducked　beside　the　chicken　coop　and　listened　as　they　went　by。　The　constant　wailing　echoed　around　our　farm。
　　　Gran　and　my　mother　met　them　at　the　back　porch。　A　light　was　switched　on；　and　I　watched　as　they　huddled　around　the　little　monster　then　carried　him　inside。　Through　the　window　I　could　see　my　father　and　Pappy　scramble　for　the　front　porch。
　　　With　four　women　working　on　him；　it　took　only　a　few　minutes　to　stop　the　crying。　Once　things　were　quiet　Libby　left　the　kitchen　and　went　outside。　She　sat　on　the　edge　of　the　porch　in　the　same　place　Cowboy　had　occupied　the　day　he　had　shown　me　his　switchblade。　I　walked　to　the　house　and　said；　〃Hi；　Libby；〃　when　I　was　a　few　feet　away。
　　　She　jumped；　then　caught　herself。　Poor　girl's　nerves　were　rattled　by　her　baby's　colic。　〃Luke；〃　she　said。　〃What're　you　doin'？〃
　　　〃Nothin'。〃