“They out now?” she asked.
“Always out,” said Wainwright. “Ever’ night.”
“Hm. Well, Al’s a good boy.
Kinda figgers he’s a dung-hill rooster these days, but he’s a good steady boy.
I couldn’ want for a better boy.”
“Oh, we ain’t complainin’ about Al as a fella!
We like him.
But what scares Mis’ Wainwright an’ me—well, she’s a growed-up woman-girl.
An’ what if we go away, or you go away, an’ we find out Aggie’s in trouble? We ain’t had no shame in our family.”
Ma said softly,
“We’ll try an’ see that we don’t put no shame on you.”
He stood up quickly.
“Thank you, ma’am. Aggie’s a growed-up woman-girl.
She’s a good girl—jes’ as nice an’ good. We’ll sure thank you, ma’am, if you’ll keep shame from us.
It ain’t Aggie’s fault. She’s growed up.”
“Pa’ll talk to Al,” said Ma. “Or if Pa won’t, I will.”
Wainwright said,
“Good night, then, an’ we sure thank ya.” He went around the end of the curtain.
They could hear him talking softly in the other end of the car, explaining the result of his embassy.
Ma listened a moment, and then,
“You fellas,” she said. “Come over an’ set here.”
Pa and Uncle John got heavily up from their squats.
They sat on the mattress beside Ma.
“Where’s the little fellas?”
Pa pointed to a mattress in the corner.
“Ruthie, she jumped Winfiel’ an’ bit ’im.
Made ’em both lay down.
Guess they’re asleep.
Rosasharn, she went to set with a lady she knows.”
Ma sighed.
“I foun’ Tom,” she said softly. “I—sent ’im away.
Far off.”
Pa nodded slowly.
Uncle John dropped his chin on his chest.
“Couldn’ do nothin’ else,” Pa said. “Think he could, John?”
Uncle John looked up.
“I can’t think nothin’ out,” he said. “Don’t seem like I’m hardly awake no more.”
“Tom’s a good boy,” Ma said; and then she apologized, “I didn’ mean no harm a-sayin’ I’d talk to Al.”
“I know,” Pa said quietly. “I ain’t no good any more.
Spen’ all my time a-thinkin’ how it use’ ta be.
Spen’ all my time thinkin’ of home, an’ I ain’t never gonna see it no more.”
“This here’s purtier—better lan’,” said Ma.
“I know. I never even see it, thinkin’ how the willow’s los’ its leaves now. Sometimes figgerin’ to mend that hole in the south fence. Funny! Woman takin’ over the fambly.
Woman sayin’ we’ll do this here, an’ we’ll go there.
An’ I don’ even care.”
“Woman can change better’n a man,” Ma said soothingly. “Woman got all her life in her arms.
Man got it all in his head.
Don’ you mind.
Maybe—well, maybe nex’ year we can get a place.”
“We got nothin’, now,” Pa said. “Comin’ a long time—no work, no crops.