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第62章

jg.paintedhouse-第62章

小说: jg.paintedhouse 字数: 每页4000字

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seat and began reaching for food。 〃And there's lightnin' to the west。〃
   My father frowned but kept chewing。 When it came to the weather; he was always pessimistic。 If the weather was fine; then it was just a matter of time before it turned bad。 If it was bad; then that's what he'd expected all along。 Gran took the news with no expression at all。 Her younger son was fighting in Korea; and that was far more important than the next rain。 She had never left the soil; and she knew that some years were good; some bad; but life didn't stop。 God gave us life and health and plenty of food; and that was more than most folks could say。 Plus; Gran had little patience for all the fretting over the weather。 〃Can't do anything about it;〃 she said over and over。
   My mother didn't smile or frown; but she had a curious look of contentment。 She was determined not to spend her life scratching a meager existence from the land。 And she was even more determined that I would not farm。 Her days on the farm were numbered; and another lost crop could only hasten our departure。
   By the time we finished eating; we heard thunder。 Gran and my mother cleared the dishes; then made another pot of coffee。 We sat at the table; talking and listening; waiting to see how rough the storm would be。 I thought my prayer was about to be answered; and I felt guilty for such a devious wish。
   But the thunder and lightning moved to the north。 No rain fell。 By 7 A。 M。 we were in the fields; picking hard and longing for noon。
   
   When we left for town; only Miguel hopped in the back of the truck。 The rest of the Mexicans were working; he explained; and he needed to buy a few things for them。 I was relieved beyond words。 I wouldn't be forced to ride in with Cowboy crouched just a few feet away from me。
   We hit rain at the edge of Black Oak; a cool drizzle instead of a fierce storm。 The sidewalks were busy with folks moving slowly under the store canopies and balconies; trying; but failing; to stay dry。
   The weather kept many farm families away from town。 This was evident when the four o'clock matinee began at the Dixie theater。 Half the seats were empty; a sure sign that it was not a normal Saturday。 Halfway through the first show the aisle lights flickered; then the screen went blank。 We sat in the darkness; ready to panic and bolt; and listened to the thunder。
   〃Power's out;〃 said an official voice in the rear。 〃Please leave slowly。〃
   We huddled into the cramped lobby and watched the rain fall in sheets along Main Street。 The sky was dark gray; and the few cars that passed by used their headlights。
   Even as kids we knew that there was too much rain; too many storms; too many rumors of rising waters。 Floods happened in the spring; rarely during the harvest。 In a world where everyone either farmed or traded with farmers; a wet season in mid…October was quite depressing。
   When it slacked off a little; we ran down the sidewalk to find our parents。 Heavy rains meant muddy roads; and the town would soon be empty as the farm families left for home before dark。 My father had mentioned buying a saw blade; so I ducked into the hardware store in hopes of finding him。 It was crowded with people waiting and watching the weather outside。 In little pockets of conversation; old men were telling stories of ancient floods。 Women were talking about how much rain there'd been in other towns…Paragould; Lepanto; and Manila。 The aisles were filled with people who were just talking; not buying or looking for merchandise。
   I worked my way through the crowd; looking for my father。 The hardware store was ancient; and toward the rear it became darker and cavern…like。 The wooden floors were wet from the traffic and sagged from years of use。 At the end of an aisle; I turned and came face…to…face with Tally and Trot。 She was holding a gallon of white paint。 Trot was holding a quart。 They were loitering like everybody else; waiting for the storm to pass。 Trot saw me and tried to hide behind Tally。 〃Hello; Luke;〃 she said with a smile。
   〃Howdy;〃 I said; looking at the paint bucket。 She set it on the floor beside her。 〃What's the paint for?〃
   〃Oh; it's nothin';〃 she said; smiling again。 Once again I was reminded that Tally was the prettiest girl I'd ever met; and when she smiled at me my mind went blank。 Once you've seen a pretty girl naked; you feel a certain attachment to her。
   Trot wedged himself tightly behind her; like a toddler hiding behind his mother。 She and I talked about the storm; and I relayed the exciting news about the power going out in the middle of the matinee。 She listened with interest; and the more I talked the more I wanted to talk。 I told her about the rumors of rising waters and about the gauge Pappy and I had set at the river。 She asked about Ricky; and we talked about him for a long time。
   Of course I forgot about the paint。
   The lights flickered; and the power returned。 It was still raining; though; and no one left the store。
   〃How's that Latcher girl?〃 she asked; her eyes darting around as if someone might hear her。 It was one of our great secrets。
   I was about to say something; when it suddenly hit me that Tally's brother was dead; and she knew nothing about it。 The Spruills probably thought Hank was home by now; back in Eureka Springs; back in their nice little painted house。 They'd see him in a few weeks; sooner if it kept raining。 I looked at her and tried to speak; but all I could think about was how shocked she'd be if I said what I was thinking。
   I adored Tally; in spite of her moods and her secrets; in spite of her funny business with Cowboy。 I couldn't help but adore her; and I certainly didn't want to hurt her。 The very thought of blurting out that Hank was dead made me weak in the knees。
   I stuttered and stammered and looked at the floor。 I was suddenly cold and scared。 〃See you later;〃 I managed to say; then turned and backtracked to the front。
   During a break in the rain; the stores emptied and folks scurried along the sidewalks; heading for the cars and trucks。 The clouds were still dark; and we wanted to get home before the showers hit again。
 
 
 Chapter 28
   
   Sunday was gray and overcast; and my father didn't care for the notion of getting wet while riding in the back of the truck on the way to church。 Plus; our truck was not exactly waterproof; and the women usually got dripped on while riding in the cab during a good shower。 We rarely missed a Sunday worship; but the threat of rain occasionally kept us at home。 We hadn't missed a service in months; and so when Gran suggested we eat a late breakfast and listen to the radio we quickly agreed。 Bellevue Baptist was the largest church in Memphis; and its services were broadcast on station WHBQ。 Pappy didn't like the preacher; said he was too liberal; but we enjoyed hearing him nonetheless。 And the choir had a hundred voices; which was about eighty more than the one at the Black Oak Baptist Church。
   Long after breakfast; we sat at the kitchen table; sipping coffee (myself included); listening to a sermon being delivered to a congregation of three thousand members; and worrying about the drastic change in the weather。 The adults were worrying; I was only pretending。
   Bellevue Baptist had an orchestra; of all things; and when it played the benediction; Memphis seemed a million miles away。 An orchestra in a church。 Gran's older daughter; my aunt Betty; lived in Memphis; and though she didn't worship at Bellevue she knew someone who did。 All the men wore suits。 All the families drove nice cars。 It was indeed a different world。
   Pappy and I drove to the river to check our gauge。 The rains were taking a toll on Otis's recent grade work。 The shallow ditches beside the road were full; gullies were forming from the runoff; and mud holes were holding water。 We stopped in the middle of the bridge and studied the river on both sides。 Even I could tell the water was up。 The sandbars and gravel bars were covered。 The water was thicker and a lighter shade of brown; evidence of drainage from the creeks that ran through the fields。 The current swirled and was moving faster。 Debris…driftwood and logs and even a green branch or twofloated atop the water。
 

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