Tobacco Road - Erskine Caldwell [57]
At a little after six o’clock the wood was still piled on the back seat of the car, and no buyer was in sight. Jeeter began stopping people on the streets in a final and desperate effort to dispose of the wood at fifty cents; but the men and women he approached took one look at the blackjack piled on the car and walked off, evidently thinking it was a joke of some kind. Nobody was foolish enough to buy blackjack when pine wood burned better and was less trouble to use.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Jeeter told Bessie. “It’s getting almost too late to go back home, and nobody wants to buy wood no more. I used to sell it with no effort any time I brought a load up here.”
Dude said he was hungry, and that he wanted to go somewhere and eat. Sister Bessie had half a dollar; Jeeter had nothing. Dude, of course, had nothing.
Jeeter had planned to sell the wood for a dollar, and then to buy some meat and meal to take home to eat; but he did not know what to do now. He turned to Bessie questioningly.
“Maybe we better start back toward Fuller,” she said. “I can buy two gallons of gasoline, and that ought to be enough.”
“Ain’t we going to eat nothing?” Dude said. “My poor belly is as dry as the drought.”
“Maybe we could sell something else,” Jeeter said, looking at the automobile. “I don’t know what we has got to sell, though.”
“We ain’t going to sell my new automobile,” Bessie said quickly. “It was brand new only yesterday. That’s one thing nobody ain’t going to sell.”
Jeeter looked the car over from front to back.
“No, I wouldn’t think of doing nothing like that. But you know, Bessie, maybe we could sell a wee biddy piece of it, sort of.”
He walked around the car and grasped the spare tire and wheel in his hands. He shook it violently.
“It’s near about loose, anyhow,” he said. “It wouldn’t hurt the new car none, Bessie.”
“Well, I reckon we got to,” she said slowly. “That tire and wheel ain’t doing us no good, noway. We can’t ride on but four of them at a time, and five is a big waste.”
They drove around the block until they found a garage. Jeeter went in and made inquiry. Presently a man came out, took the tire and wheel off, and rolled it through the garage door.
Jeeter came walking briskly across the street, holding out several green notes. He counted them one by one before Bessie and Dude.
“Ain’t we lucky folks, though?” he said.
“How much money did it bring?” she asked.
“He said three dollars was more than enough, but that much sounded like a heap of money to me. And here it is! Ain’t they pretty and new, though? Out there at Fuller all the money I ever saw was just about ready to fall apart, it was that worn out. Up here in Augusta the people has got good money.”
The next stop was a small grocery store. Jeeter got out and bought a large sack of soda crackers and two pounds of yellow cheese. He came back to the car and offered the food to Dude and Bessie. They all broke off chunks of cheese and stuffed their mouths full of crackers.
“Just help yourself, Bessie,” he said. “Take all you want. Run your hand in the poke and eat until you is full. Dude, there, might hog it all if you don’t take care of your own wants.”
Jeeter was feeling fine. It was the first time since he could remember that he had been to Augusta and could get something to eat when he wanted it. He smiled at Bessie and Dude, and waved to people passing along the street. When a woman passed, he took off his hat and bowed.
“Augusta is a fine place,” he said. “All these people here is just like us. They is rich, but that don’t make no difference to me. I like everybody now.”
“Where is we going now?” Bessie said.
“There’s a place to sleep right up above the store,” Jeeter said. “Supposing we sleep in there to-night, and then tomorrow morning sell the wood—ain’t that what we ought to do?”
Dude liked the suggestion, but Bessie hesitated. It looked