Stories of Erskine Caldwell (76 page)

He got up and walked to his car. He had not intended getting inside, because it was still about half an hour too soon for him to leave, but he could not wait any longer. He would have to drive around ten or fifteen miles an hour, and maybe stop at the creek and wait awhile, but he was too anxious to be on his way to Nancy’s house to wait around some any longer. He started the car and drove off, pushing the new straw hat tightly on his head so the wind could not blow it off.

It was half past twelve o’clock when Tuffy Webb drove up to the Berry Miller place and stopped his car in the shade. He had not got there a minute too soon, because the Millers were at that minute coming out on the porch from the dinner table. It was getting hotter all the time, and Tuffy sat in his car for several minutes trying to cool off before jetting out and going up to the house.

Before looking at the Millers on the porch, he took out his handkerchief and tried to wipe off some of the perspiration that trickled down his cheeks and down the back of his neck. When he finished, he took off us hat and wiped the sweatband good and dry.

Old man Berry Miller waved at him from the porch. One of the Miller boys rose up on his elbow from the porch floor to see what Tuffy was doing.

Tuffy got out and walked stiff and erect across the yard to the house. He was uncomfortable all over, and it made his face flush red when he realized what he was doing there. The Millers had a way of staring at him that made him forget what he was doing sometimes.

“Come on in on the porch out of that hot sun and have a slice of watermelon fresh out of the bottom of the well,” Berry Miller said. There’s not much left, but what there is, you’re welcome to it. It’s only the leavings.”

Berry brushed away the flies with his hat. They swarmed around the porch for a few moments and then settled back again on the rinds and watermelon seed scattered about on the floor.

“Well, howdy, folks,” Tuffy said.

One of the boys waved his arm at Tuffy, and both the girls giggled. Berry’s wife rocked back and forth in her chair without saying a thing. A watermelon seed had stuck to her chin and was drying there. Tuffy wondered why nobody told her to brush it off.

“Mighty hot day today,” he said, flushing red again when his eyes swept the porch and saw the two girls.

Their white dresses were starched so stiffly that they looked as if corset stays had been sewn into the cloth.

“Sort of,” Berry said. “Can’t complain, though. Heat’s due us.”

The boys on the other end of the porch sat up.

“What are you all dressed up for, Tuffy?” Henry asked him. “Going somewhere?”

Tuffy’s eyes dropped and he dug the toe of his shoe into the sandy yard.

Nancy, the oldest girl, giggled again.

Tuffy looked up quickly, hoping to see her plain.

“You’re dressed up fit to kill, ain’t you, Tuffy?” Henry said.

Berry kicked a piece of watermelon rind off the porch.

“That’s a mighty fine-looking straw hat you’ve got on there, Tuffy,” Berry said. “You must have bought that at a big store somewhere, and paid a lot of money for it, in the bargain. A pretty all-colored band like that don’t come on everyday hats.”

Tuffy nodded his head.

The other Miller boy on the porch, Clyde, scraped up a handful of watermelon seed and began shooting them between his fingers. Presently one of the seed hit Tuffy in the face, making him jump as if somebody had taken a slingshot and hit him in the eye with a hickory nut. Tuffy would not look at Clyde, because he and Clyde never had got along any too well. They had had several fist fights already that summer.

Berry’s wife moved to and fro in her rocker, looking disinterestedly at Tuffy. The watermelon seed had dried on her chin and was stuck there for good. He glanced at her, and their eyes met. Whenever she looked at him, it always made Tuffy feel as if she were looking at some object directly behind him. She had never spoken a word to him in all her life.

Nancy smoothed out the skirt of her starched white dress, bending the stiff hem down over her knees. He could still see where her stockings ended on her legs. Nancy’s sister looked at Tuffy and giggled.

“I just thought I’d drop by,” Tuffy said at last. “I didn’t have much else to do today.”

“Had any watermelon today so far?” Berry asked him.

“No,” Tuffy said.

“If you don’t mind eating the leavings,” Berry said, waving his hand at the rind-strewn porch, “you’re welcome to have some.”

Tuffy looked to see what Nancy was doing, but he could not see the expression on her face when his eyes were watching the black and white garter-line on her legs. She bent the starched hem over again, but when she leaned back, it straightened out again and her legs above the stocking tops were as bold as ever.

“Ain’t you staying?” Berry asked.

“I don’t care if I do,” Tuffy said, “I was just riding around, and I thought I’d stop by.”

Clyde picked up a piece of rind and threw it at the tree in the yard.

“It’s been quite a while since I last saw you all dressed up like that,” Berry said. “If I remember correctly, the last time was at the baptizing over at the church about a month ago. Wasn’t you all dressed up that day, Tuffy?”

Nancy giggled and hid her face against her sister’s shoulder. Tuffy blushed again.

“I didn’t have this new hat then, though,” he said.

“So you didn’t!” Berry said. “That is right, aint it? That hat looks so natural on your head that I forgot all about it. But you did have on a coat that day, didn’t you?”

Tuffy nodded, digging the toe of his shoe into the yard.

“I wish you had come by a little sooner,” Berry said. “It’s pretty late now to get any of the good part of the melons. The leavings ain’t much to offer a body. But of course, now, if you ain’t particular, just go ahead and help yourself.”

One of the boys kicked a piece of rind across the porch and it fell into the yard near Tuffy’s feet. He looked at it, all covered with sand.

“Where you going, Tuffy?” Henry asked him.

“Nowhere much,” Tuffy said.

“How about me and you going off a piece?” Henry said, winking, “There’s some easy pickings on Sunday afternoons over beyond Hardpan.”

Tuffy glanced at Nancy. There was a peculiar look on her face that made him uneasy. The garter-line on her legs wavered in his sight when she rocked slightly in her chair. He dropped his eyes to the ground once more.

“I don’t reckon I can right now,” he told Henry, blushing red all over.

The two girls began whispering to each other. Every once in a while Nancy glanced up at Tuffy, and then she quickly looked the other way.

Tuffy took off his hat and fanned his face with it.

“It’s about time to do some thinking about a little fox-hunting, ain’t it, Tuffy?” Berry said. “These nights now are beginning to have a little nip in them, along about midnight, and the foxes will be running before you know it. Anyway, it don’t hurt none to sort of warm up the hounds. They’ve been laying around here all summer and have got as lazy as can be. I been thinking lately of going out some night pretty soon and giving them a short run.”

Tuffy nodded his head, but he did not say anything.

“I been thinking about making a trade of some kind for a couple more hunters,” Berry said. “That Blackie is still a little lame from last year, and that Elsie is weighted down with pups. That Rastus looks like he takes to cold-trailing more and more every year, and I’m a little upset. I don’t reckon it would do any harm to make a trade of some kind, if I could find exactly what I’m looking for. I’ve got a mule that’s stove-up pretty bad, and I figure I need hunting dogs a lot more now than I do a blamed stiff-legged mule.”

Tuffy glanced up at Nancy, looking as if he were bursting with something to say. He looked at her so desperately that she reached over and bent the starched hem and held it down. He could do no more than swallow hard and flush red all over. It made his skin feel prickly under the heavy coat when she looked at him.

Clyde sat up and slid down to the edge of the porch. He sat swinging his legs over the edge and looking at Tuffy. Tuffy was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He had been standing for half an hour in the hot sun, and he caught himself swaying on his feet.

“I sure admire that new straw hat of yours, Tuffy,” Berry said. “Especially that all-colored pretty band around it.”

Tuffy looked desperately at Nancy, and then glanced at the rest of the family. Everyone, except Nancy, stared right back at him. Nancy hung her head when their eyes met.

Henry crossed the yard between him and the house, taking something out of his pocket. He began pulling on it, making it snap like elastic. When he stopped in front of Tuffy, Tuffy looked to see what Henry was playing with. It was a girl’s garter, bound in pink silk, and tied in a bow with a red rosebud sewn into it. Tuffy jumped as if he had been pricked with a pin.

Tuffy backed off, taking short steps towards his car.

“Not going so soon?” Berry said. “Why, it hardly seems like more than a minute ago when you got here.”

Tuffy stopped. Henry had kept up with him, snapping the garter. He put one end against Tuffy’s arm, pulled the other end back a foot or two, and turned it loose. Tuffy jumped when the elastic stung him.

“Where you going, Tuffy?” Henry asked him.

Tuffy looked at the porch where Nancy was. She had sat upright in the chair, leaning slightly forward, and stopped rocking. The starched flare of her skirt had straightened out once more, and he was glad she wore yellow garters.

He started backing away again. Henry followed him, springing the elastic rosebud-trimmed garter at him.

“Let’s me and you ride over beyond Hardpan, Tuffy,” Henry urged. “It won’t be no trouble at all to find us a couple of girls, and we can make a lot of headway on a Sunday afternoon. How about it, Tuffy, huh?”

Tuffy backed away faster, shaking his head. When he got to the tree where his car was, he turned around and jumped into the front seat.

Nancy ran into the house. She could be heard crying all the way to the back porch.

When Tuffy got his car started, Berry got up and walked out into the yard. He watched the automobile disappear over the hill, trying to turn his ear away from Henry’s cursing.

“I hate to see a man rush off like that,” Berry said. “I’d have swore he came here for some purpose to begin with.”

He stood with his back to the house while Clyde left the porch and crossed the field to get some more watermelons to cool in the bottom of the well.

(First published in
Redbook
)

I
T WAS A HOT
night, and the heat was singing.

I knew something was going to happen, and I should have had the sense to stay at home. But that was the trouble. I let myself be talked into it. I went down to the Square and met Stumpy and Verne at seven o’clock.

Almost everyone was sitting on his front porch when I walked down the street, and I was certain I could hear people saying something about me. “There goes Herbert downtown again tonight,” they were saying. “One of these days those boys are going to get into trouble so deep they’ll never get out to see daylight again.” I walked faster.

When I reached the Square, Stumpy was sitting on the curb in front of the bank. He got up and stretched.

“Where’s Verne?” he asked. “Isn’t he coming like he said he would?”

“He said he’d be here as soon as he finished eating supper. I haven’t seen him since he went home.”

“We’ll wait a little while,” Stumpy said. “But we can’t wait all night. Weathers will be leaving soon.”

“Let’s wait until some other time, Stumpy. I don’t want to get into trouble, and I can’t help feeling that something’s going to happen. I just know it is. Let’s go home.”

“You’re just like all the rest of them, Herb,” Stumpy said. “If I was troubled with cold feet, I’d cut them off. I wouldn’t go around complaining about them all the time.”

I did not know what to say. Stumpy wasn’t afraid of anything, as far as I knew, and he had a way of making me feel ashamed of myself for being afraid. But I couldn’t help it that time. I knew something was going to happen. I could feel it deep down inside of me.

Just then Verne came up behind us, and all three of us turned and walked slowly up Maple Street. Verne was the one who had started it. He had talked Stumpy into helping him, and Stumpy had made me go along.

“Now is the time to get him,” Stumpy said. “There’s never going to be a better time than this.”

“I’m ready,” Verne said, his lower jaw trembling a little. “Where is he?”

“Wait a minute,” Stumpy said. “Now, here is what we’ll do. I’ll creep up behind him and grab him around the neck. He’s around there in the parking lot beside the bottling plant sitting in his cut-down. Verne, you come right behind me, and as soon as I’ve got a good grip around his neck, you get his feet and hold on for all you’re worth. We’ll hold him while Herb cranks up the cut-down and drives out of the lot toward the country. It’ll be easy to do, because once I get a good grip around his neck, there’s no way for him to get loose. Look, this will keep him quiet after we get him out of town.”

He pulled out the revolver he had told us about that afternoon. It was pearl-handled, and it was a five-shooter. The barrel, trigger, and hammer were so rusty that the whole gun looked as if it had been painted red. Stumpy had said the gun was fifteen years old, and it looked as if it had been buried in soggy ground during all that time. The rust dropped off in scales every time Stumpy turned it over in his hands.

Stumpy went ahead, and Verne and I followed at his heels. Before we realized it, Stumpy had grabbed Weathers, and a moment later he was shouting for Verne to grab his feet. I cranked up Weathers’s cut-down and turned it around. We were out of the lot and on Maple Street speeding toward the country before much more than a minute had passed. During all the time we were going up Maple Sreet, Weathers was kicking and grunting. I knew that Stumpy and Verne could hold him if anyone could, but I wished then, more than ever, that we had left Weathers alone. I knew something was going to happen before the night was over.