Tom lighted his cigarette.
“I been thinkin’ about it a lot.
Jesus Christ, I wisht we could settle down.”
Jule took back his Durham.
“It ain’t nice,” he said. “I got a little girl.
Thought when I come out here she’d get some schoolin’.
But hell, we ain’t in one place hardly long enough.
Jes’ gits goin’ an’ we got to drag on.”
“I hope we don’t get in no more Hoovervilles,” said Tom. “I was really scairt, there.”
“Deputies push you aroun’?”
“I was scairt I’d kill somebody,” said Tom. “Was on’y there a little while, but I was a-stewin’ aroun’ the whole time.
Depity come in an’ picked up a frien’, jus’ because he talked outa turn.
I was jus’ stewin’ all the time.”
“Ever been in a strike?” Willie asked.
“No.”
“Well, I been a-thinkin’ a lot. Why don’ them depities get in here an’ raise hell like ever’ place else?
Think that little guy in the office is a-stoppin’ ’em?
No, sir.”
“Well, what is?” Jule asked.
“I’ll tell ya. It’s ’cause we’re all a-workin’ together.
Depity can’t pick on one fella in this camp. He’s pickin’ on the whole darn camp.
An’ he don’t dare.
All we got to do is give a yell an’ they’s two hunderd men out.
Fella organizin’ for the union was a-talkin’ out on the road.
He says we could do that any place.
Jus’ stick together.
They ain’t raisin’ hell with no two hunderd men.
They’re pickin’ on one man.”
“Yeah,” said Jule, “an’ suppose you got a union? You got to have leaders.
They’ll jus’ pick up your leaders, an’ where’s your union?”
“Well,” said Willie, “we got to figure her out some time. I been out here a year, an’ wages is goin’ right on down.
Fella can’t feed his fam’ly on his work now, an’ it’s gettin’ worse all the time.
It ain’t gonna do no good to set aroun’ an’ starve.
I don’ know what to do.
If a fella owns a team a horses, he don’t raise no hell if he got to feed ’em when they ain’t workin’.
But if a fella got men workin’ for him, he jus’ don’t give a damn.
Horses is a hell of a lot more worth than men.
I don’ understan’ it.”
“Gets so I don’ wanta think about it,” said Jule. “An’ I got to think about it.
I got this here little girl.
You know how purty she is.
One week they give her a prize in this camp ’cause she’s so purty.
Well, what’s gonna happen to her?
She’s gettin’ spindly.
I ain’t gonna stan’ it.
She’s so purty. I’m gonna bust out.”
“How?” Willie asked. “What you gonna do—steal some stuff an’ git in jail?
Kill somebody an’ git hung?”
“I don’ know,” said Jule. “Gits me nuts thinkin’ about it.
Gets me clear nuts.”