The sunburned skin on Winfield’s nose was scrubbed off.
“There,” Pa said. “Got dirt an’ two layers a skin.
Had to almost lick ’em to make ’em stan’ still.”
Ma appraised them.
“They look nice,” she said. “He’p yaself to pone an’ gravy.
We got to get stuff outa the way an’ the tent in order.”
Pa served plates for the children and for himself.
“Wonder where Tom got work?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, if he can, we can.”
Al came excitedly to the tent.
“What a place!” he said. He helped himself and poured coffee. “Know what a fella’s doin’?
He’s buildin’ a house trailer.
Right over there, back a them tents.
Got beds an’ a stove—ever’thing. Jus’ live in her.
By God, that’s the way to live!
Right where you stop—tha’s where you live.”
Ma said,
“I ruther have a little house.
Soon’s we can, I want a little house.”
Pa said,
“Al—after we’ve et, you an’ me an’ Uncle John’ll take the truck an’ go out lookin’ for work.”
“Sure,” said Al. “I like to get a job in a garage if they’s any jobs.
Tha’s what I really like.
An’ get me a little ol’ cut-down Ford.
Paint her yella an’ go a-kyoodlin’ aroun’.
Seen a purty girl down the road.
Give her a big wink, too.
Purty as hell, too.”
Pa said sternly,
“You better get you some work ’fore you go a-tom-cattin’.”
Uncle John came out of the toilet and moved slowly near.
Ma frowned at him.
“You ain’t washed—” she began, and then she saw how sick and weak and sad he looked. “You go on in the tent an’ lay down,” she said. “You ain’t well.”
He shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I sinned, an’ I got to take my punishment.” He squatted down disconsolately and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Ma took the last pones from the pan.
She said casually,
“The manager of the camp come an’ set an’ had a cup a coffee.”
Pa looked over slowly.
“Yeah? What’s he want awready?”
“Jus’ come to pass the time,” Ma said daintily. “Jus’ set down an’ had coffee.
Said he didn’ get good coffee so often, an’ smelt our’n.”
“What’d he want?” Pa demanded again.
“Didn’ want nothin’.
Come to see how we was gettin’ on.”
“I don’ believe it,” Pa said. “He’s probably a-snootin’ an’ a-smellin’ aroun’.”
“He was not!” Ma cried angrily. “I can tell a fella that’s snootin’ aroun’ quick as the nex’ person.”
Pa tossed his coffee grounds out of his cup.
“You got to quit that,” Ma said. “This here’s a clean place.”