Read Online A Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harry Crews
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“It’s all right. I’as glad to do it.”
“Sompin bad wrong with Lottie Mae,” said Lummy.
“What ails her?” said Joe Lon, only half listening.
“She be hexed I thinks,” said Lummy.
“Hexed?” said Joe Lon, thinking: Just nigger talk. I spend half my goddam life listening to nigger talk and the other half of it totin whiskey to them. God knows what I did to deserve it . Believing as he did, though, in the total mystery, power, and majesty of God, Joe Lon assumed he had done something , and that he would never find out what it was.
“Mama say she been acting powerful strange since she come in las night,” said Lummy.
Joe Lon waved his hand as though brushing away flies. “Look,” he said. “You or George one got to stay at the store all day today. I want it kept open to midnight and I want it opened up right now. I ain’t gone have no time for the store today.”
“I know no Sherf ain’t gone hex no gul. Special no nigger gul. Sherf got sompin else to do cept go roun hexin on nigger guls.”
Joe Lon blinked. It was as though Lummy had not heard him. And he knew Lummy would go on like that until he took care of Lottie Mae’s hex.
“Okay. Right,” said Joe Lon. “I’m gone ask Buddy first chance I git. But you right. He ain’t hexed nobody, much less Lottie Mae. I’ll tell him that being the sheriff, he better see who done it. Is that okay?”
“He ain’t gone do that.”
“He will if I tell him to…”
Lummy gave Joe Lon his blue-gummed smile. “Don think twice. George and me is put our minds on it. Go on and don think twice.” He slipped back into the crowd and was gone.
Joe Lon walked around awhile, looking at the booths and speaking to a few people, assuring some of the visitors that, yes, the store would be open tonight, right on until midnight. He saw his old coach, Tump Walker, who was one of the great high-school coaches in the country, and who was Honorary Chairman of the rattlesnake roundup. He was scowling and dripping tobacco juice.
“I tell you, son, they crazier ever year, they are. It’s one tourist here that’s tainted. If he ain’t tainted, I never shit behind two heels. You know what he’s got?”
“Whatever it is wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Surprised me, by God. Sumbitch’s got five hundred snakes over there in cages in his trailer. Ever kind of snake you could think of’s what he’s got.”
“Why you reckon he’s got’m?”
“Beats the shit out of me,” Coach Tump said. “Just loves goddam snakes enough, I guess, to go around the countryside in a camper packed with’m.”
They stood watching each other, thinking about the tainted tourist. Finally, Coach Tump said: “Seen you daddy lately, son?”
“Yes sir. Coach, I seen’m lately. He’s fine. How you been?”
Coach Tump sent a long solid stream of tobacco juice into the dirt, shifted the cud in his mouth, hustled his balls and said: “I been real good. But what I thought to ask you was, how’s you daddy’s Tuff?”
“Trainin real hard, Coach Tump, trainin real hard.”
“By the good Lord, I alius said, they’d never beat one of you daddy’s dogs in the fourth quarter. Aye God, they come to fight.”
“Daddy’s lookin to retire Tuff. He knows he’s gone retire Tuff, and then ole Tuff’s gone be boss stud of all the pits.”
“We all know he will, son.”
Joe Lon, always diffident in the face of his old coach and teacher, said: “Listen, Coach, you go on by the store and tell Lummy to give you whatever it is you want. Tell’m to mark it down to me.”
Coach Tump said, “You alius was a good boy, son,” slapped Joe Lon on the back, sent another stream of juice on the air, and walked away in his rolling bowlegged stride.
Joe Lon was just about to go back to his truck when he saw Berenice all the way across the campground and instantly wanted to run, not sure whether toward her or away from her. He ended by casually strolling in an oblique angle toward the place
“Sompin bad wrong with Lottie Mae,” said Lummy.
“What ails her?” said Joe Lon, only half listening.
“She be hexed I thinks,” said Lummy.
“Hexed?” said Joe Lon, thinking: Just nigger talk. I spend half my goddam life listening to nigger talk and the other half of it totin whiskey to them. God knows what I did to deserve it . Believing as he did, though, in the total mystery, power, and majesty of God, Joe Lon assumed he had done something , and that he would never find out what it was.
“Mama say she been acting powerful strange since she come in las night,” said Lummy.
Joe Lon waved his hand as though brushing away flies. “Look,” he said. “You or George one got to stay at the store all day today. I want it kept open to midnight and I want it opened up right now. I ain’t gone have no time for the store today.”
“I know no Sherf ain’t gone hex no gul. Special no nigger gul. Sherf got sompin else to do cept go roun hexin on nigger guls.”
Joe Lon blinked. It was as though Lummy had not heard him. And he knew Lummy would go on like that until he took care of Lottie Mae’s hex.
“Okay. Right,” said Joe Lon. “I’m gone ask Buddy first chance I git. But you right. He ain’t hexed nobody, much less Lottie Mae. I’ll tell him that being the sheriff, he better see who done it. Is that okay?”
“He ain’t gone do that.”
“He will if I tell him to…”
Lummy gave Joe Lon his blue-gummed smile. “Don think twice. George and me is put our minds on it. Go on and don think twice.” He slipped back into the crowd and was gone.
Joe Lon walked around awhile, looking at the booths and speaking to a few people, assuring some of the visitors that, yes, the store would be open tonight, right on until midnight. He saw his old coach, Tump Walker, who was one of the great high-school coaches in the country, and who was Honorary Chairman of the rattlesnake roundup. He was scowling and dripping tobacco juice.
“I tell you, son, they crazier ever year, they are. It’s one tourist here that’s tainted. If he ain’t tainted, I never shit behind two heels. You know what he’s got?”
“Whatever it is wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Surprised me, by God. Sumbitch’s got five hundred snakes over there in cages in his trailer. Ever kind of snake you could think of’s what he’s got.”
“Why you reckon he’s got’m?”
“Beats the shit out of me,” Coach Tump said. “Just loves goddam snakes enough, I guess, to go around the countryside in a camper packed with’m.”
They stood watching each other, thinking about the tainted tourist. Finally, Coach Tump said: “Seen you daddy lately, son?”
“Yes sir. Coach, I seen’m lately. He’s fine. How you been?”
Coach Tump sent a long solid stream of tobacco juice into the dirt, shifted the cud in his mouth, hustled his balls and said: “I been real good. But what I thought to ask you was, how’s you daddy’s Tuff?”
“Trainin real hard, Coach Tump, trainin real hard.”
“By the good Lord, I alius said, they’d never beat one of you daddy’s dogs in the fourth quarter. Aye God, they come to fight.”
“Daddy’s lookin to retire Tuff. He knows he’s gone retire Tuff, and then ole Tuff’s gone be boss stud of all the pits.”
“We all know he will, son.”
Joe Lon, always diffident in the face of his old coach and teacher, said: “Listen, Coach, you go on by the store and tell Lummy to give you whatever it is you want. Tell’m to mark it down to me.”
Coach Tump said, “You alius was a good boy, son,” slapped Joe Lon on the back, sent another stream of juice on the air, and walked away in his rolling bowlegged stride.
Joe Lon was just about to go back to his truck when he saw Berenice all the way across the campground and instantly wanted to run, not sure whether toward her or away from her. He ended by casually strolling in an oblique angle toward the place
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