jg.paintedhouse-第31部分

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　　　In　the　center　of　the　ring；　Samson　began　groaning　and　trying　to　get　to　his　feet。　He　made　it　to　his　hands　and　knees；　and　rocked　back　and　forth　a　few　times　before　he　managed　to　pull　a　foot　forward。　With　one　great　lurch　he　tried　to　stand；　but　his　feet　weren't　with　him。　He　lunged　toward　the　ropes　and　managed　to　catch　them　to　break　his　fall。　He　was　looking　directly　at　us；　but　the　poor　guy　saw　nothing。　His　eyes　were　red　and　wild；　and　he　seemed　to　have　no　idea　where　he　was。　He　hung　on　the　ropes；　tottering；　trying　to　regain　his　senses；　still　searching　for　his　feet。
　　　Mr。　Horsefly　Walker　ran　up　to　the　ring　and　yelled　to　Hank；　〃Kill　the　sonofabitch！　Go　ahead；　finish　him　off！〃
　　　But　Hank　didn't　move。　Instead；　he　just　yelled；　〃Time！〃　but　Delilah　had　forgotten　about　the　clock。
　　　There　were　a　few　cheers　and　jeers　from　the　crowd；　but　for　the　most　part；　it　was　subdued。　The　spectators　were　shocked　at　the　sight　of　Samson　floundering；　his　senses　knocked　out　of　him。
　　　Samson　turned　and　tried　to　focus　his　eyes　on　Hank。　Clutching　the　ropes　for　support；　he　stumbled　a　couple　of　steps；　then　made　one　last；　desperate　lunge。　Hank　simply　ducked　out　of　the　way；　and　Samson　landed　hard　on　the　corner　pole。　The　ropes　strained　with　his　weight　and　the　other　three　poles　seemed　ready　to　break。　Samson　was　groaning　and　thrashing　about　like　a　bear　who'd　been　shot。　He　pulled　his　feet　under　him　and　steadied　himself　enough　to　turn　around。　He　should've　stayed　on　the　mat。　Hank　darted　in　and　threw　an　overhand　right；　a　punch　that　began　in　the　center　of　the　ring　and　landed　exactly　where　the　first　one　did。　Since　his　target　was　defenseless；　he　reloaded　and　landed　a　third　and　final　blow。　Samson　went　down　in　a　heap。　Delilah　screamed　and　scrambled　into　the　ring。　Hank　relaxed　in　his　corner；　arms　on　the　top　ropes；　grinning；　no　concern　whatsoever　for　his　opponent。
　　　I　wasn't　sure　what　to　do；　and　most　of　the　other　spectators　were　quiet；　too。　On　the　one　hand；　it　was　good　to　see　an　Arkansas　boy　so　thoroughly　crush　this　Egyptian　giant。　But　on　the　other　hand；　it　was　Hank　Spruill；　and　he'd　used　his　fists。　His　victory　was　tainted；　not　that　it　mattered　to　him。　All　of　us　would've　felt　better　if　a　local　boy　had　battled　Samson　evenly。
　　　When　Hank　was　certain　that　time　had　expired；　he　stepped　through　the　ropes　and　jumped　to　the　ground。　Bo　and　Dale　had　the　money；　and　the　three　of　them　disappeared。
　　　〃He　done　killed　Samson；〃　someone　behind　me　said。　The　World's　Greatest　Wrestler　was　flat　on　his　back；　arms　and　legs　spread　wide；　his　woman　crouched　over　him；　trying　to　wake　him。　I　felt　sorry　for　them。　They　were　wonderfully　colorful；　an　act　we　wouldn't　see　again　for　a　long　time；　if　ever。　In　fact；　I　doubted　if　Samson　and　Delilah　would　ever　return　to　Black　Oak；　Arkansas。
　　　When　he　sat　up；　we　relaxed。　A　handful　of　good　folks　clapped　softly　for　him；　then　the　crowd　began　to　break　up。
　　　Why　couldn't　Hank　join　the　carnival？　He　could　get　paid　for　beating　up　people；　and　it　would　get　him　off　our　farm。　I　decided　to　mention　it　to　Tally。
　　　Poor　Samson　had　worked　hard　all　day　in　the　heat；　and　in　a　split　second　had　lost　the　day's　wages。　What　a　way　to　make　a　living。　I'd　finally　seen　a　worse　job　than　picking　cotton。
　
　
　Chapter　19
　　　
　　　In　the　spring　and　winter；　Sunday　afternoons　were　often　used　as　a　time　for　visiting。　We'd　finish　lunch　and　take　our　naps；　then　load　into　the　pickup　and　drive　to　Lake　City　or　Paragould　and　drop　in　pletely　unannounced　on　some　relatives　or　old　friends；　who'd　always　be　delighted　to　see　us。　Or　perhaps　they'd　drop　in　on　us。　〃Y'all　e　see　us〃　was　the　mon　phrase；　and　folks　took　it　literally。　No　arrangements　or　forewarnings　were　necessary；　or　even　possible。　We　didn't　have　a　telephone　and　neither　did　our　relatives　or　friends。
　　　But　visiting　was　not　a　priority　in　the　late　summer　and　fall　because　the　work　was　heavier　and　the　afternoons　were　so　hot。　We　forgot　about　aunts　and　uncles　for　a　time；　but　we　knew　we'd　catch　up　later。
　　　I　was　sitting　on　the　front　porch；　listening　to　the　Cardinals　and　watching　my　mother　and　Gran　shell　peas　and　butter　beans；　when　I　saw　a　cloud　of　dust　ing　from　the　bridge。　〃Car's　in'；〃　I　said；　and　they　looked　in　that　direction。
　　　Traffic　on　our　road　was　rare。　It　was　almost　always　one　of　the　Jeters　from　across　the　way　or　one　of　the　Tollivers　east　of　us。　Occasionally　a　strange　car　or　truck　would　pass；　and　we'd　watch　it　without　a　word　until　the　dust　had　settled；　then　we'd　talk　about　it　over　dinner　and　speculate　as　to　who　it　was　and　what　they　were　doing　in　our　part　of　Craighead　County。　Pappy　and　my　father　would　mention　it　at　the　Co…op；　and　my　mother　and　Gran　would　tell　all　the　ladies　before　Sunday　school；　and　sooner　or　later　they'd　find　someone　else　who'd　seen　the　strange　vehicle。　Usually　the　mystery　was　solved；　but　occasionally　one　passed　through　and　we　never　found　out　where　it　came　from。
　　　This　car　moved　slowly。　I　saw　a　hint　of　red　that　grew　bigger　and　brighter；　and　before　too　long　a　shiny　two…door　sedan　was　turning　into　our　driveway。　The　three　of　us　were　now　standing　on　the　porch；　too　surprised　to　move。　The　driver　parked　behind　our　pickup。　From　the　front　yard　the　Spruills　were　gawking；　too。
　　　The　driver　opened　his　door　and　got　out。　Gran　said；　〃Well；　it's　Jimmy　Dale。〃
　　　〃It　certainly　is；〃　my　mother　said；　losing　some　of　her　anticipation。
　　　〃Luke；　run　and　get　Pappy　and　your　father；〃　Gran　said。　I　sprinted　through　the　house　yelling　for　the　men；　but　they'd　heard　the　door　slam　and　were　ing　from　the　backyard。
　　　We　all　met　in　front　of　the　car；　which　was　new　and　clean　and　undoubtedly　the　most　beautiful　vehicle　I'd　ever　seen。　Everybody　hugged　and　shook　hands　and　exchanged　greetings；　then　Jimmy　Dale　introduced　his　new　wife；　a　thin　little　thing　who　looked　younger　than　Tally。　Her　name　was　Stacy。　She　was　from　Michigan；　and　when　she　spoke　her　words　came　through　her　nose。　She　clipped　them　quickly　and　efficiently；　and　within　seconds　she　made　my　skin　crawl。
　　　〃Why　does　she　talk　like　that？〃　I　whispered　to　my　mother　as　the　group　moved　to　the　porch。
　　　〃She's　a　Yankee〃　was　the　simple　explanation。
　　　Jimmy　Dale's　father　was　Ernest　Chandler；　Pappy's　older　brother。　Ernest　had　farmed　in　Leachville　until　a　heart　attack　killed　him　a　few　years　earlier。　I　did　not　personally　remember　Ernest；　or　Jimmy　Dale；　though　I'd　heard　plenty　of　stories　about　them。　I　knew　that　Jimmy　Dale　had　fled　the　farm　and　migrated　to　Michigan；　where　he　found　a　job　in　a　Buick　factory　making　three　dollars　an　hour；　an　unbelievable　wage　by　Black　Oak　standards。　He'd　helped　other　local　boys　get　good　jobs　up　there。　Two　years　earlier；　after　another　bad　crop；　my　father　had　spent　a　miserable　winter　in　Flint；　putting　windshields　into　new　Buicks。　He'd　brought　home　a　thousand　dollars　and　had　spent　it　all　on　outstanding　farm　debts。
　　　〃That's　some　car；〃　my　father　said　as　they　sat　on　the　front　steps。　Gran　was　in　the　kitchen　making　iced　tea。　My　mother　had　the　unpleasant　task　of　chatting　up　Stacy；　a　misfit　from　the　moment　she　stepped　out　of　the　car。
　　　〃Brand　new；〃　Jimmy　Dale　said　proudly。　〃Got　it　last　week；　just　in　time　to　drive　home。　Me　and　Stacy　here　got　married　a　month　ago；　and　that's　our　wedding　present。〃
　　　〃Stacy　and　I　got　married；　not　me　and　Stacy；〃　said　the　new　wife；　cutting　in　from　across　the　porch。　There　was　a　slight　pause　in　the　conversation　as　the　rest　of　us　absorbed　the　fact　that　Stacy　had　just　corrected　her　husband's　grammar　in　the　presence　of　others。　I'd　never　heard　this　before　in　my　life。
　　　〃Is　it　a　fifty…two？〃　Pappy　asked。
　　　〃No；　it's　a　fifty…three；　newest　thing　on　the　road。　Built　it　myself。〃
　　　〃You　don't　say。〃
　　　〃Yep。　Buick　lets　us　custom　order　our　own　cars；　then　we　get　to　watch　when　they　e　down　the　line。　I　put　the　dashboard　in　that　one。〃
　　　〃How　much　did　it　cost？〃　I　asked；　and　I　thought　my　mother　would　e　for　my　throat。
　　　〃Luke！〃　she　shouted。　My　father　and　Pappy　cast　hard　looks　at　me；　and　I　was　about　to　say　something　when　Jimmy　Dale　blurted　out；　〃Twenty…seven　hundred　dollars。　It's　no　secret。　Every　dealer　in　the　country　knows　how　much　they　cost。〃
　　　By　now　the　Spruills　had　drifted　over　and　were　inspecting　the　carevery　Spruill　but　Tally；　who　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。　It　was　Sunday　afternoon　and　time；　in　my　way　of　thinking；　for　a　cool　bath　at　Siler's　Creek。　I　had　been　hanging　around　the　porch　waiting　for　her　to　appear。
　　　Trot　waddled　around　the　car　while　Bo　and　Dale　circled　it；　too。　Hank　was　peering　inside；　probably　looking　for　the　keys。　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Spruill　were　admiring　it　from　a　distance。
　　　Jimmy　Dale　watched　them　carefully。　〃Hill　people？〃
　　　〃Yeah；　they're　from　Eureka　Springs。〃
　　　〃Nice　folks？〃
　　　〃For　the　most　part；〃　Pappy　said。
　　　〃What's　that　big　one　doin'？〃
　　　〃You　never　know。〃
　　　We'd　heard　at　church　that　morning　that　Samson　had　eventually　gotten　to　his　feet　and　walked　from　the　ring；　so　Hank　had　not　added　another　casualty　to　his　list。　Brother　Akers　had　preached　for　an　hour　on　the　sinfulness　of　the　carnival…wagering；　fighting；　lewdness；　vulgar　costumes；　mingling　with　gypsies；　all　sorts　of　filth。　Dewayne　and　I　listened　to　every　word；　but　our　names　were　never　mentioned。
　　　〃Why　do　they　live　like　that？〃　Stacy　asked；　looking　at　Camp　Spruill。　Her　crisp　words　knifed　through　the　air。
　　　〃How　else　could　they　live？〃　Pappy　asked。　He；　too；　had　already　made　the　decision　that　he　did　not　like　the　new　Mrs。　Jimmy　Dale　Chandler。　She　sat　perched　like　a　little　bird　on　the　edge　of　a　rocker；　looking　down　on　everything　around　her。
　　　〃Can't　you　provide　housing　for　them？〃　she　asked。
　　　I　could　tell　that　Pappy　was　starting　to　burn。
　　　〃Anyway；　Buick'll　let　us　finance　the　cars　for　twenty…four　months；〃　Jimmy　Dale　said。
　　　〃Is　that　so？〃　said　my　father；　still　staring　at　it。　〃I　think　that's　'bout　the　finest　car　I've　ever　seen。〃
　　　Gran　brought　a　tray　to　the　porch　and　served　tall　glasses　of　iced　tea　with　sugar。　Stacy　declined。　〃Tea　with　ice；〃　she　said。　〃Not　for　me。　Do　you　have　any　hot　tea？〃
　　　Hot　tea？　Who'd　ever　heard　of　such　foolishness？
　　　〃No；　we　don't　drink　hot　tea　around　here；〃　Pappy　said　from　his　swing　as　he　glared　at　Stacy。
　　　〃Well；　up　in　Michigan　we　don't　drink　it　with　ice；〃　she　said。
　　　〃This　ain't　Michigan；〃　Pappy　shot　back。
　　　〃Would　you　like　to　see　my　garden？〃　my　mother　said　abruptly。
　　　〃Yeah；　that's　a　great　idea；〃　Jimmy　Dale　said。　〃Go　on；　sweetheart；　Kathleen　has　the　prettiest　garden　in　Arkansas。〃
　　　〃I'll　go　with　you；〃　Gran　said　in　an　effort　to　shove　the　girl　off　the　porch　and　away　from　controversy。　The　three　women　disappeared；　and　Pappy　waited　just　long　enough　to　say；　〃Where　in　God's　name　did　you　find　her；　Jimmy　Dale？〃
　　　〃She's　a　sweet　girl；　Uncle　Eli；〃　he　answered　without　much　conviction。
　　　〃She's　a　damned　Yankee。〃
　　　〃Yankees　ain't　so　bad。　They　were　smart　enough　to　avoid　cotton。　They　live　in　nice　houses　with　indoor　plumbing　and　telephones　and　televisions。　They　make　good　money　and　they　build　good　schools。　Stacy's　had　two　years　of　college。　Her　family's　had　a　television　for　three　years。　Just　last　week　I　watched　the　Indians　and　Tigers　on　it。　Can　you　believe　that；　Luke？　Watching　baseball　on　television。〃
　　　〃No　sir。〃
　　　〃Well；　I　did。　Bob　Lemon　pitched　for　the　Indians。　Tigers　ain't　much；　they're　in　last　place　again。〃
　　　〃I　don't　much　care　for　the　American　League；〃　I　said；　repeating　words　I'd　heard　my　father　and　grandfather　say　since　the　day　I　started　remembering。
　　　〃Wh