Cool Hand Luke - Donn Pearce [91]
But the way Dragline told it was like this:
He kept right on. No matter whut ah said didn’t make no never mind to him. He keeps grinnin‘ to hisself and keeps wanderin’ around in there. Oh, man. He’s gotta git into everythin‘. He’s pickin’ up prayer books. He picks up one of these here fans layin‘ on a chair. They’re made outta cardboard. Some funeral parlor outfit hands ’em out. Some picture of a saint or a apostle or somethin‘ on one side and the name of the funeral parlor is printed on the other side. So this fan belongs to some nigger what lives around here. But he’s got his name printed on the handle in pencil. But ole Luke, he ain’t satisfied. Oh, hell no. He’s gotta read this here name. Like maybe he might know the guy.
Then he goes up and down the chairs. You know the kind they got. Yuh cain’t see ‘em from here but hell, they must have seventy or eighty. Made outta wicker and stuff. But ah’ll give them ole niggers credit for one thing though. Every damn one of them chairs has got a white cloth over the back. And ah mean they is clean. Like some mammy must wash them things ever’ week. Throw ‘em in a black iron kettle in the backyard and boil the piss out of’em.
Anyhow. Luke’s makin‘ like he’s countin’ these chairs. Then he looks at this one up front what’s got arm rests. That there’s for the preacher. And then behind that is four, five more. These here is for the singin‘ choir. That’s probably them in there right now. Singin’ and moanin‘ away like heaven jes won’t wait.
So ole Cool Hand, he goes over to this beat up ole pianer and he plays with these phony wax flowers. And there’s a glass candlestick from some dime store. But Luke finds some number ten still stamped on it nobody never washed off. Big deal. So it costs a dime? But Luke figgers that’s really somethin‘. Must have. Way he keeps lookin’ at it. Then he plays with the pianer keys. Course half the ivory is gone off’n it. And underneath is ole wood and somebody wrote numbers on it. Tryin‘ to do it by the numbers, ah reckon.
And over the front door is this picture of Lord Jesus somebody got off’n a calendar. And an electric clock on the wall that cain’t work. And the paint is peelin‘ off’n the ceilin’. Cobwebs and fly shit all around. Oh. And the fuckin‘ floor is painted blue. Yeah. Ah remember that floor. Real dark blue.
Up front they got a stand somebody nailed together. That thing holds up this big Bible. Lick-lick. Lickturn or somethin‘. Anyhow. There’s a big tablecloth over it and then this here big ole Bible.
But ah’m lookin‘ over this big stove out in the middle of the room. Ah’m layin’ down on the floor, tryin‘ to git me some rest. But ah’m rolled over and ah’m lookin’ at this thing thinkin‘ o’ how warm ah could be. Regular ole country stove. Big iron thing and there’s a pile of kindlin‘ there too and ole newspapers. But naw. Luke don’t wont to take no chances on smoke. But all of a sudden ah hears him start talkin’. At first ah figgers he’s talkin‘ to hisself but then he says—
“Hey, Mister Lord!”
Damn. Ah spins around and there he is, standin‘ up there like a preacher, bof’ arms leanin‘ out on bof’ sides of the Bible. You know how preachers always stand there. And real deep and loud, like he’s givin‘ the whole fuckin’ world a hell-fire sermon, this crazy Luke starts preachin‘. But he’s preachin’ straight to God though. He looks straight up at the ceilin‘ over his haid and he says—
“Hey up there, Mister Lord! How you doin‘ up there?”
Jes like that. How you doin‘? Like he’s the old man what lives next door maybe. Well, man, ah’m tellin’ yuh. Ah comes straight off’n that floor like a Jack-in-the-box jes a-lookin‘ at that crazy son of a bitch. Hell, ah ain’t cold no more and ah ain’t hongry neither. Ah’m jest scared that’s all. So ah says—
“Hey Luke! What are you doin‘?”
But he don’t pay me no mind. He jest looks up at the ceilin‘ and goes on prayin’ or rantin‘ or whatever it was he was doin’.
“Listen here, Lord. Hear me out a minute. I got a bone to pick with you, Old Man.” And then ah says—
“Luke! Luke! You’re takin