“Now you look here, Willie.
We don’t want them fellas hurt.
They’s gonna be deputies out by the front gate.
If you blood ’em up, why—them deputies’ll git you.”
“Got that there figgered out,” said Willie. “Take ’em out the back way, into the fiel’.
Some a the boys’ll see they git on their way.”
“Well, it soun’s awright,” Huston said worriedly. “But don’t you let nothing happen, Willie.
You’re responsible.
Don’ you hurt them fellas.
Don’ you use no stick nor no knife or arn, or nothing like that.”
“No, sir,” said Willie. “We won’t mark ’em.”
Huston was suspicious.
“I wisht I knowed I could trus’ you, Willie.
If you got to sock ’em, sock ’em where they won’t bleed.”
“Yes, sir!” said Willie.
“You sure of the fellas you picked?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Awright.
An’ if she gits outa han’, I’ll be in the right-han’ corner, this way on the dance floor.”
Willie saluted in mockery and went out.
Huston said,
“I dunno.
I jes’ hope Willie’s boys don’t kill nobody.
What the hell the deputies want to hurt the camp for?
Why can’t they let us be?”
The sad boy from Unit Two said,
“I lived out at Sunlan’ Lan’ an’ Cattle Company’s place.
Honest to God, they got a cop for ever’ ten people.
Got one water faucet for ’bout two hundred people.”
The tubby man said, “Jesus, God, Jeremy. You ain’t got to tell me. I was there.
They got a block of shacks—thirty-five of ’em in a row, an’ fifteen deep.
An’ they got ten crappers for the whole shebang.
An’, Christ, you could smell ’em a mile.
One of them deputies give me the lowdown. We was settin’ aroun’, an’ he says, ‘Them goddamn gov’ment camps,’ he says.
‘Give people hot water, an’ they gonna want hot water.
Give ’em flush toilets, an’ they gonna want ’em.’
He says, ‘You give them goddamn Okies stuff like that an’ they’ll want ’em.’
An’ he says, ‘They hol’ red meetin’s in them gov’ment camps.
All figgerin’ how to git on relief,’ he says.”
Huston asked,
“Didn’ nobody sock him?”
“No.
They was a little fella, an’ he says,
‘What you mean, relief?’
“‘I mean relief—what us taxpayers puts in an’ you goddamn Okies takes out.’
“‘We pay sales tax an’ gas tax an’ tobacco tax,’ this little guy says.
An’ he says, ‘Farmers get four cents a cotton poun’ from the gov’ment—ain’t that relief?’
An’ he says, ‘Railroads an’ shippin’ companies draws subsidies—ain’t that relief?’
“‘They’re doin’ stuff got to be done,’ this deputy says.
“‘Well,’ the little guy says, ‘how’d your goddamn crops get picked if it wasn’t for us?”’ The tubby man looked around.