jg.paintedhouse-第33部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


　　　〃What？〃
　　　〃There's　a　big　black　snake　out　here！〃
　　　〃Oh　my　God！〃　she　gasped。　She　would've　fainted　again；　but　she　was　already　sitting　down。
　　　〃Be　quiet！〃　I　said。　〃Otherwise；　he'll　know　you're　in　there。〃
　　　〃Holy　Jesus！〃　she　said；　her　voice　breaking。　〃Do　something！〃
　　　〃I　can't。　He's　big；　and　he　bites。〃
　　　〃What　does　he　want？〃　she　begged；　as　if　she　were　on　the　verge　of　tears。
　　　〃I　don't　know。　He's　a　shitsnake；　he　hangs　around　here　all　the　time。〃
　　　〃Get　Jimmy　Dale！〃
　　　〃Okay；　but　don't　e　out。　He's　right　by　the　door。　I　think　he　knows　you're　in　there。〃
　　　〃Oh　my　God；〃　she　said　again；　and　started　crying。　I　ducked　back　between　the　chicken　coops；　then　looped　around　the　garden　on　the　east　side　of　the　house。　I　moved　slowly　and　quietly　along　the　hedges　that　were　our　property　line　until　I　came　to　a　point　in　a　thicket　where　I　could　hide　and　watch　the　front　yard。　Jimmy　Dale　was　leaning　on　his　car；　telling　a　story；　waiting　for　his　young　bride　to　finish　her　business。
　　　Time　dragged　on。　My　parents　and　Pappy　and　Gran　listened　and　chuckled　as　one　story　led　to　another。　Occasionally　one　of　them　would　glance　toward　the　backyard。
　　　My　mother　finally　became　concerned　and　left　the　group　to　check　on　Stacy。　A　minute　later　there　were　voices；　and　Jimmy　Dale　bolted　toward　the　outhouse。　I　buried　myself　deeper　in　the　thicket。
　　　
　　　It　was　almost　dark　when　I　entered　the　house。　I'd　been　watching　from　a　distance；　from　beyond　the　silo；　and　I　knew　my　mother　and　Gran　were　preparing　supper。　I　was　in　enough　trouble…being　late　for　a　meal　would　have　only　pounded　the　situation。
　　　They　were　seated；　and　Pappy　was　about　to　bless　the　food　when　I　walked　through　the　door　from　the　back　porch　and　quietly　took　my　seat。　They　looked　at　me；　but　I　chose　instead　to　stare　at　my　plate。　Pappy　said　a　quick　prayer；　and　the　food　was　passed　around。　After　a　silence　sufficiently　long　enough　to　build　tension；　my　father　said；　〃Where　you　been；　Luke？〃
　　　〃Down　by　the　creek；〃　I　said。
　　　〃Doin'　what？〃
　　　〃Nothin'。　Just　lookin'　around。〃
　　　This　sounded　suspicious　enough；　but　they　let　it　pass。　When　all　was　quiet；　Pappy；　with　perfect　timing　and　with　the　devil　in　his　voice；　said；　〃You　see　any　shitsnakes　at　the　creek？〃
　　　He　barely　got　the　words　out　before　he　cracked　up。
　　　I　looked　around　the　table。　Gran's　jaws　were　clenched　as　if　she　were　determined　not　to　smile。　My　mother　covered　her　mouth　with　her　napkin；　but　her　eyes　betrayed　her；　she　wanted　to　laugh；　too。　My　father　had　a　large　bite　of　something　in　his　mouth；　and　he　managed　to　chew　it　while　keeping　a　straight　face。
　　　But　Pappy　was　determined　to　howl。　He　roared　at　the　end　of　the　table　while　the　rest　of　them　fought　to　maintain　their　posure。　〃That　was　a　good　one；　Luke！〃　he　managed　to　say　while　catching　his　breath。　〃Served　her　right。〃
　　　I　finally　laughed；　too；　but　not　at　my　own　actions。　The　sight　of　Pappy　laughing　so　hard　while　the　other　three　so　gamely　tried　not　to　struck　me　as　funny。
　　　〃That's　enough；　Eli；〃　Gran　said；　finally　moving　her　jaws。
　　　I　took　a　large　bite　of　peas　and　stared　at　my　plate。　Things　grew　quiet　again；　and　we　ate　for　a　while　with　nothing　said。
　　　
　　　After　dinner；　my　father　took　me　for　a　walk　to　the　tool　shed。　On　its　door　he　kept　a　wooden　hickory　stick；　one　that　he'd　cut　himself　and　polished　to　a　shine。　It　was　reserved　for　me。
　　　I'd　been　taught　to　take　my　punishment　like　a　man。　Crying　was　forbidden；　at　least　openly。　In　these　awful　moments；　Ricky　always　inspired　me。　I'd　heard　horror　stories　of　the　beatings　Pappy　had　given　him；　and　never；　according　to　his　parents　and　mine；　had　he　been　brought　to　tears。　When　Ricky　was　a　kid；　a　whipping　was　a　challenge。
　　　〃That　was　a　mean　thing　you　did　to　Stacy；〃　my　father　began。　〃She　was　a　guest　on　our　farm；　and　she's　married　to　your　cousin。〃
　　　〃Yes　sir。〃
　　　〃Why'd　you　do　it？〃
　　　〃　'Cause　she　said　we　were　stupid　and　backward。〃　A　little　embellishment　here　wouldn't　hurt。
　　　〃She　did？〃
　　　〃Yes　sir。　I　didn't　like　her；　neither　did　you　or　anybody　else。〃
　　　〃That　may　be　true；　but　you　still　have　to　respect　your　elders。　How　many　licks　you　think　that's　worth？〃　The　crime　and　the　punishment　were　always　discussed　beforehand。　When　I　bent　over；　I　knew　exactly　how　many　licks　I'd　receive。
　　　〃One；〃　I　said。　That　was　my　usual　assessment。
　　　〃I　think　two；〃　he　said。　〃Now　what　about　the　bad　language？〃
　　　〃I　don't　think　it　was　that　bad；〃　I　said。
　　　〃You　used　a　word　that　was　unacceptable。〃
　　　〃Yes　sir。〃
　　　〃How　many　licks　for　that？〃
　　　〃One。〃
　　　〃Can　we　agree　on　three；　total？〃　he　asked。　He　never　whipped　me　when　he　was　angry；　so　there　was　usually　a　little　room　for　negotiation。　Three　sounded　fair；　but　I　always　pushed　a　little。　After　all；　I　was　on　the　receiving　end。　Why　not　haggle？
　　　〃Two's　more　fair；〃　I　said。
　　　〃It's　three。　Now　bend　over。〃
　　　I　swallowed　hard；　gritted　my　teeth；　turned　around；　bent　over；　and　grabbed　my　ankles。　He　smacked　my　rear　three　times　with　the　hickory　stick。　It　stung　like　hell；　but　his　heart　wasn't　in　it。　I'd　received　far　worse。
　　　〃Go　to　bed；　right　now；〃　he　said；　and　I　ran　to　the　house。
　
　
　Chapter　20
　　　
　　　Now　that　Hank　had　250　of　Samson's　money　in　his　pocket；　he　was　even　less　enthusiastic　about　picking　cotton。　〃Where's　Hank？〃　Pappy　asked　Mr。　Spruill　as　we　took　the　sacks　and　began　our　work　on　Monday　morning。　〃Sleepin'；　I　reckon〃　was　the　abrupt　response；　and　nothing　else　was　said　at　that　moment。
　　　He　arrived　in　the　fields　sometime　in　the　middle　of　the　morning。　I　didn't　know　exactly　when　because　I　was　at　the　far　end　of　a　row　of　cotton；　but　soon　I　heard　voices　and　knew　that　the　Spruills　were　once　again　at　war。
　　　An　hour　or　so　before　lunch；　the　sky　began　to　darken；　and　a　slight　breeze　came　from　the　west。　When　the　sun　disappeared；　I　stopped　picking　and　studied　the　clouds。　A　hundred　yards　away　I　saw　Pappy　do　the　same　thing…hands　on　hips；　straw　hat　cocked　to　one　side；　face　frowning　upward。　The　wind　grew　stronger　and　the　sky　darker；　and　before　long　the　heat　was　gone。　All　of　our　storms　came　from　Jonesboro；　which　was　known　as　Tornado　Alley。
　　　Hail　hit　first；　hard　tiny　specks　the　size　of　pea　gravel；　and　I　headed　for　the　tractor。　The　sky　to　the　southwest　was　dark　blue；　almost　black；　and　the　low　clouds　were　bearing　down　on　us。　The　Spruills　were　moving　quickly　down　their　rows；　all　heading　for　the　trailer。　The　Mexicans　were　running　toward　the　barn。
　　　I　began　to　run；　too。　The　hail　stung　the　back　of　my　neck　and　prompted　me　to　run　even　faster。　The　wind　was　howling　through　the　trees　along　the　river　and　pushing　the　cotton　stalks　to　their　sides。　Lightning　cracked　somewhere　behind　me；　and　I　heard　one　of　the　Spruills；　Bo；　probably；　give　a　yell。
　　　〃We　don't　need　to　get　near　the　cotton　trailer；〃　Pappy　was　saying　as　I　arrived。　〃Not　with　that　lightnin'。〃
　　　〃Better　get　to　the　house；〃　my　father　said。
　　　We　loaded　onto　the　flatbed　trailer；　all　of　us　scrambling　in　a　great　hurry；　and　just　as　Pappy　turned　the　tractor　around；　the　rain　hit　with　a　fury。　It　was　cold　and　sharp　and　falling　sideways　in　the　fierce　wind。　We　were　instantly　soaked；　I　wouldn't　have　been　wetter　if　I'd　jumped　in　the　creek。
　　　The　Spruills　huddled　together　with　Tally　in　the　center。　Just　a　few　feet　away；　my　father　clutched　me　to　his　chest；　as　if　the　wind　might　take　me　away。　My　mother　and　Gran　had　left　the　fields　not　long　before　the　storm　hit。
　　　The　rain　beat　us　in　waves。　It　was　so　thick　I　could　barely　see　the　rows　of　cotton　just　a　few　feet　in　front　of　me。　〃Hurry　up；　Pappy！〃　I　kept　saying。　The　storm　was　so　loud　I　couldn't　hear　the　familiar　knock　of　the　tractor　engine。　Lightning　cracked　again；　this　time　much　closer；　so　close　that　my　ears　hurt。　I　thought　we　were　going　to　die。
　　　It　took　forever　to　get　to　the　house；　but　when　we　did；　the　rain　suddenly　stopped。　The　sky　was　even　darker；　black　in　every　direction。　〃It's　a　funnel！〃　Mr。　Spruill　said　loudly　as　we　were　just　getting　off　the　trailer。　To　the　west；　far　beyond　the　river　and　high　above　the　tree　line；　a　slim　funnel　cloud　dipped　downward。　It　was　light　gray；　almost　white　against　the　black　sky；　and　it　grew　larger　and　louder　as　it　made　its　way　very　slowly　toward　the　ground。　It　was　several　miles　away；　and　because　of　the　distance　it　didn't　seem　too　dangerous。
　　　Tornadoes　were　mon　in　our　part　of　Arkansas；　and　I'd　heard　stories　about　them　all　of　my　life。　Decades　earlier　Gran's　father　had　supposedly　survived　a　horrible　twister；　one　that　had　run　in　circles　and　struck　the　same　small　farm　more　than　once。　It　was　a　tall　tale；　one　that　Gran　told　without　much　conviction。　Twisters　were　a　way　of　life；　but　I'd　not　seen　one　until　now。
　　　〃Kathleen！〃　my　father　yelled　toward　the　house。　He　didn't　want　my　mother　to　miss　such　a　spectacle。　I　glanced　at　the　barn；　where　the　Mexicans　were　as　still　and　as　amazed　as　we　were。　A　couple　of　them　were　pointing。
　　　We　watched　the　funnel　in　muted　fascination；　without　fear　or　terror；　because　it　was　nowhere　near　our　farm　and　going　away；　to　the　north　and　east。　It　moved　slowly；　as　if　it　were　searching　for　the　perfect　place　to　touch　down。　Its　tail　was　clearly　visible　above　the　horizon；　way　above　the　land；　and　it　skipped　along　in　midair；　dancing　at　times　while　it　decided　where　and　when　to　strike。　The　bulk　of　the　funnel　spun　tightly；　a　perfect　upside…down　cone　whirling　in　a　fierce　spiral。
　　　The　screen　door　slammed　behind　us。　My　mother　and　Gran　were　on　the　steps；　both　of　them　wiping　their　hands　with　dish　towels。
　　　〃It's　headed　for　town；〃　Pappy　said　with　great　authority；　as　if　he　could　predict　where　tornadoes　would　hit。
　　　〃I　think　so；〃　my　father　added；　suddenly　another　expert　weatherman。
　　　The　twister's　tail　sank　lower　and　stopped　skipping。　It　appeared　as　if　it　had　indeed　touched　down　somewhere　far　away；　because　we　could　no　longer　see　the　end　of　it。
　　　The　church；　the　gin；　the　movie　theater；　Pop　and　Pearl's　grocery…　I　was　tallying　the　damage　when　suddenly　the　twister　lifted　itself　up　and　seemed　to　disappear　pletely。
　　　There　was　another　roar　behind　us。　Across　the　road；　deep　into　the　Jeter　property；　another　tornado　had　arrived。　It　had　crept　up　on　us　while　we　were　watching　the　first　one。　It　was　a　mile　or　two　away　and　seemed　headed　straight　for　our　house。　We　watched　in　horror；　unable　to　move　for　a　second　or　two。
　　　〃Let's　get　in　the　barn！〃　Pappy　shouted。　Some　of　the　Spruills　were　already　running　toward　their　camp；　as　if　they'd　be　safe　inside　a　tent。
　　　〃Over　here！〃　Mr。　Spruill　shouted　and　pointed　to　the　barn。　Suddenly　everyone　was　yelling　and　pointing　and　scurrying　about。　My　father　grabbed　my　hand；　and　we　began　running。　The　ground　was　shaking　and　the　wind　was　screaming。　The　Mexicans　were　scattering　in　all　directions；　some　thought　it　best　to　hide　in　the　fields；　others　were　headed　toward　our　house　until　they　saw　us　running　to　the　barn。　Hank　flew　past　me　with　Trot　on　his　back。　Tally　outran　us；　too。
　　　Before　we　made　it　to　the　barn；　the　twister　left　the　ground　and　rose　quickly　into　the　sky。　Pappy　stopped　and　watched；　and　then　so　did　everybody　else。　The　funnel　went　slightly　to　the　east　of　our　farm；　and　instead　of　a　frontal　assault；　it　left　behind　only　a　sprinkling　of　thick　brown　rainwater　and　specks　of　mud。　We　watched　it　jump　along　in　midair；　looking　for　another　site　to　drop　down　in；　just　like　the　first　one。
　　　For　a　few　minutes　we　were　too　stunned　and　too　frightened　to　say　much。
　　　I　studied　the　clouds　in　all　directions；　determined