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Authors: Erskine Caldwell
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anything,” Jim said. “You know Uncle Marvin.”
Just then Graham raised his head from the line and saw Uncle Marvin standing not ten feet away. Graham jumped up and said something to Uncle Marvin. It was funny to watch them, because Uncle Marvin was not looking at Graham at all. His head was turned in the other direction all the time, and he was looking where the girls lay stretched out in the hammocks. He could not take his eyes off them long enough to glance at Graham. Graham kept on saying something, but Uncle Marvin acted as though he was on the other side of the river beyond earshot.
Jean and Marge pulled the sides of the hammocks over them, but they could not make Uncle Marvin stop looking at them. He started to grin, but he turned red in the face instead.
Graham picked up a bottle and offered it to Uncle Marvin. He took it without even looking at it once, and held it out in front of him as if he did not know he had it in his hand. When Graham saw that he was not making any effort to open it, he took it and put the cap between his teeth and popped it off as easily as he could have done it with a bottle opener.
The beer began to foam then, and Uncle Marvin shoved the neck of the bottle into his mouth and turned it upside down. The foam that had run out on his hand before he could get the bottle into his mouth was dripping down his shirt front and making a dark streak on the blue cloth.
Jean leaned out of her hammock and reached to the ground for another bottle. She popped off the cap with a bottle opener and lay down again.
“Did you see that, Milt?” Jim whispered, squeezing my arm. He whistled a little between his teeth.
“I saw a lot!” I said.
“I didn’t know girls ever did like that where everybody could see them,” he said.
“They’re from up the river,” I told him. “Graham said they were from Evansville.”
“That don’t make any difference,” Jim said, shaking his head. “They’re girls, aren’t they? Well, whoever saw girls lie in hammocks naked like that? I know I never did before!”
“I sure never saw any like those before, either,” I told him.
Uncle Marvin had gone to the tree at the foot of one of the hammocks, and he was standing there, leaning against it a little, with the empty bottle in his hand, and looking straight at them.
Graham was trying to talk to him, but Uncle Marvin would not pay attention to what Graham was trying to say. Jean had turned loose the sides of the hammock, and Marge, too, and they were laughing and trying to make Uncle Marvin say something. Uncle Marvin’s mouth was hanging open, but his face was not red any more.
“Why doesn’t he tell them he’s a preacher?” I asked Jim, nudging him with my elbow.
“Maybe he will after a while,” Jim said, standing on his toes and trying to see better through the undergrowth.
“It looks to me like he’s not going to tell them,” I said. “It wouldn’t make any difference, anyway, because Uncle Marvin isn’t a real preacher. He only preaches when he feels like doing it.”
“That doesn’t make any difference,” Jim said.
“Why doesn’t it?”
“It just doesn’t, that’s why.”
“But he calls himself a preacher, just the same.”
“He doesn’t have to be a preacher now if he doesn’t want to be one. If he told them he was a preacher, they’d all jump up and run and hide from him.”
Uncle Marvin was still standing against the tree looking at the dark girl, and Graham was a little to one side of him, looking as if he didn’t know what to do next.
Presently Uncle Marvin jerked himself erect and turned his head in all directions listening for sounds. He looked towards us, but he could not see us. Jim got down on his hands and knees to be out of sight, and I got behind him.
The three others were laughing and talking, but not Uncle Marvin. He looked at them a while longer, and then he reached down to the top case against the cypress and lifted out another bottle. Graham
Just then Graham raised his head from the line and saw Uncle Marvin standing not ten feet away. Graham jumped up and said something to Uncle Marvin. It was funny to watch them, because Uncle Marvin was not looking at Graham at all. His head was turned in the other direction all the time, and he was looking where the girls lay stretched out in the hammocks. He could not take his eyes off them long enough to glance at Graham. Graham kept on saying something, but Uncle Marvin acted as though he was on the other side of the river beyond earshot.
Jean and Marge pulled the sides of the hammocks over them, but they could not make Uncle Marvin stop looking at them. He started to grin, but he turned red in the face instead.
Graham picked up a bottle and offered it to Uncle Marvin. He took it without even looking at it once, and held it out in front of him as if he did not know he had it in his hand. When Graham saw that he was not making any effort to open it, he took it and put the cap between his teeth and popped it off as easily as he could have done it with a bottle opener.
The beer began to foam then, and Uncle Marvin shoved the neck of the bottle into his mouth and turned it upside down. The foam that had run out on his hand before he could get the bottle into his mouth was dripping down his shirt front and making a dark streak on the blue cloth.
Jean leaned out of her hammock and reached to the ground for another bottle. She popped off the cap with a bottle opener and lay down again.
“Did you see that, Milt?” Jim whispered, squeezing my arm. He whistled a little between his teeth.
“I saw a lot!” I said.
“I didn’t know girls ever did like that where everybody could see them,” he said.
“They’re from up the river,” I told him. “Graham said they were from Evansville.”
“That don’t make any difference,” Jim said, shaking his head. “They’re girls, aren’t they? Well, whoever saw girls lie in hammocks naked like that? I know I never did before!”
“I sure never saw any like those before, either,” I told him.
Uncle Marvin had gone to the tree at the foot of one of the hammocks, and he was standing there, leaning against it a little, with the empty bottle in his hand, and looking straight at them.
Graham was trying to talk to him, but Uncle Marvin would not pay attention to what Graham was trying to say. Jean had turned loose the sides of the hammock, and Marge, too, and they were laughing and trying to make Uncle Marvin say something. Uncle Marvin’s mouth was hanging open, but his face was not red any more.
“Why doesn’t he tell them he’s a preacher?” I asked Jim, nudging him with my elbow.
“Maybe he will after a while,” Jim said, standing on his toes and trying to see better through the undergrowth.
“It looks to me like he’s not going to tell them,” I said. “It wouldn’t make any difference, anyway, because Uncle Marvin isn’t a real preacher. He only preaches when he feels like doing it.”
“That doesn’t make any difference,” Jim said.
“Why doesn’t it?”
“It just doesn’t, that’s why.”
“But he calls himself a preacher, just the same.”
“He doesn’t have to be a preacher now if he doesn’t want to be one. If he told them he was a preacher, they’d all jump up and run and hide from him.”
Uncle Marvin was still standing against the tree looking at the dark girl, and Graham was a little to one side of him, looking as if he didn’t know what to do next.
Presently Uncle Marvin jerked himself erect and turned his head in all directions listening for sounds. He looked towards us, but he could not see us. Jim got down on his hands and knees to be out of sight, and I got behind him.
The three others were laughing and talking, but not Uncle Marvin. He looked at them a while longer, and then he reached down to the top case against the cypress and lifted out another bottle. Graham
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