held it between
his lips while he adjusted the hinge some more. He removed the screw from his
mouth to speak.
"They're
waiting for me to pull their feathers off so I can make myself a nice
pillow."
"They
are?"
"Yep.
You holding that nail nice and tight? Don't lose it."
Edward
opened his fist, showing Daniel the nail.
"Good
boy."
He
finished repairing the screen door, then set to work on the step. When he was
done, he turned to Edward.
"You
can gimmie the nail now, Eddy." The boy got out of the swing and dropped
the nail in Daniel's open palm. "And go tell your housekeeper she can
bring my food now."
Edward
ran into the house and through the archway beyond, and in a minute, the woman
came to the door.
"It's
too hot here on the porch. You can eat on the back steps. It's cooler under the
oak."
She
went back through the archway as Daniel retrieved his sack and banjo and went
behind the house to sit on the top step. A blooming columbine grew next to the
steps, again reminding him of home, as did a small garden off to one side.
Nearby stood a white hen house enclosed in chicken wire. A couple of hens pecked
in the dirt.
Anna
came outside from a screened-in porch and handed him a plate with a sliced
tomato, a pickle, a spoonful of potato salad, a roast beef sandwich, and a
dollop of cottage cheese.
"Thank
you," Daniel said. "Looks fit for a king."
The
woman watched him eat. "You mighty thin. When was the last time you
ate?"
He
swallowed before replying. "Can't recall. Maybe last night or two days
ago. Maybe a month ago."
"My
stars!"
Daniel
took a bite of sandwich, then picked up the fork and stabbed at a chunk of
potato dripping yellow with mustard and mayonnaise. He opened his mouth,
shoveled it in and chewed, savoring the sweet pickle flavor.
"After
a while, you forget what time and what day it is. You just follow the dusty
roads, wearing out your shoes, not thinking about food till you almost pass
out."
"They's
lot of folks out of work," Anna said. "I'm luckier than some. Mr. and
Miz Cornwallis give me a home. Got a little room over the kitchen. Miz
Cornwallis is upstairs resting right now. Feeling po'ly she is, and it wouldn't
surprise me she's in the family way."
Daniel
glanced sideways at her. "That right?"
"Mr.
Cornwallis is a banker." She paused a minute. "I shouldn't tell a
stranger, should I?"
Anna's
face and underarms were damp with sweat. Daniel thought her heavy bosom was
likely miserable with prickly heat. LaDaisy always complained about the rash,
but a sprinkle of cornstarch brought relief. He wondered if the maid knew about
the cornstarch; if she didn't, it wasn't a stranger's business to tell her. He
was a handyman, not a peddler of home remedies.
She
fanned herself with the tail of her apron and sat on the step watching him eat.
"Whew,
hot, ain't it?"
"Fixin'
to storm."
"Where
you go when it storms?"
"Find
me a barn or a shed to stand in till it passes."
"We
don't get many bums around here," Anna said. "The missus, she told me
not to coddle 'em or they'll keep coming back. But sometimes I don't listen to
her."
"Well,
I ain't no bum."
"Tramp
or hobo, then, they's all the same.
"Nope.
Not neither one." Daniel ate some tomato, then shined his plate with a
piece of bread from the sandwich. "I'm an honorable man looking for work
to care for my family."
"Excuse
me." Anna rose and went inside, returning with a tall glass of lemonade.
"Here."
She watched him drink almost half a glass before coming up for air. "You
got children? How many? You divorced?"
Daniel
handed her the empty plate and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve.
"Nope.
Got the best wife a man could want and three little ones."
Young
Edward skipped around the corner of the house and tackled an old tire swinging
from the oak.
"How
they making out with you gone?" asked the woman.
Daniel
shrugged. "I ain't there to find out, but better than I am, I hope."
"Why'd
you leave?"
Daniel
considered the question. "I reckon that's
his lips while he adjusted the hinge some more. He removed the screw from his
mouth to speak.
"They're
waiting for me to pull their feathers off so I can make myself a nice
pillow."
"They
are?"
"Yep.
You holding that nail nice and tight? Don't lose it."
Edward
opened his fist, showing Daniel the nail.
"Good
boy."
He
finished repairing the screen door, then set to work on the step. When he was
done, he turned to Edward.
"You
can gimmie the nail now, Eddy." The boy got out of the swing and dropped
the nail in Daniel's open palm. "And go tell your housekeeper she can
bring my food now."
Edward
ran into the house and through the archway beyond, and in a minute, the woman
came to the door.
"It's
too hot here on the porch. You can eat on the back steps. It's cooler under the
oak."
She
went back through the archway as Daniel retrieved his sack and banjo and went
behind the house to sit on the top step. A blooming columbine grew next to the
steps, again reminding him of home, as did a small garden off to one side.
Nearby stood a white hen house enclosed in chicken wire. A couple of hens pecked
in the dirt.
Anna
came outside from a screened-in porch and handed him a plate with a sliced
tomato, a pickle, a spoonful of potato salad, a roast beef sandwich, and a
dollop of cottage cheese.
"Thank
you," Daniel said. "Looks fit for a king."
The
woman watched him eat. "You mighty thin. When was the last time you
ate?"
He
swallowed before replying. "Can't recall. Maybe last night or two days
ago. Maybe a month ago."
"My
stars!"
Daniel
took a bite of sandwich, then picked up the fork and stabbed at a chunk of
potato dripping yellow with mustard and mayonnaise. He opened his mouth,
shoveled it in and chewed, savoring the sweet pickle flavor.
"After
a while, you forget what time and what day it is. You just follow the dusty
roads, wearing out your shoes, not thinking about food till you almost pass
out."
"They's
lot of folks out of work," Anna said. "I'm luckier than some. Mr. and
Miz Cornwallis give me a home. Got a little room over the kitchen. Miz
Cornwallis is upstairs resting right now. Feeling po'ly she is, and it wouldn't
surprise me she's in the family way."
Daniel
glanced sideways at her. "That right?"
"Mr.
Cornwallis is a banker." She paused a minute. "I shouldn't tell a
stranger, should I?"
Anna's
face and underarms were damp with sweat. Daniel thought her heavy bosom was
likely miserable with prickly heat. LaDaisy always complained about the rash,
but a sprinkle of cornstarch brought relief. He wondered if the maid knew about
the cornstarch; if she didn't, it wasn't a stranger's business to tell her. He
was a handyman, not a peddler of home remedies.
She
fanned herself with the tail of her apron and sat on the step watching him eat.
"Whew,
hot, ain't it?"
"Fixin'
to storm."
"Where
you go when it storms?"
"Find
me a barn or a shed to stand in till it passes."
"We
don't get many bums around here," Anna said. "The missus, she told me
not to coddle 'em or they'll keep coming back. But sometimes I don't listen to
her."
"Well,
I ain't no bum."
"Tramp
or hobo, then, they's all the same.
"Nope.
Not neither one." Daniel ate some tomato, then shined his plate with a
piece of bread from the sandwich. "I'm an honorable man looking for work
to care for my family."
"Excuse
me." Anna rose and went inside, returning with a tall glass of lemonade.
"Here."
She watched him drink almost half a glass before coming up for air. "You
got children? How many? You divorced?"
Daniel
handed her the empty plate and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve.
"Nope.
Got the best wife a man could want and three little ones."
Young
Edward skipped around the corner of the house and tackled an old tire swinging
from the oak.
"How
they making out with you gone?" asked the woman.
Daniel
shrugged. "I ain't there to find out, but better than I am, I hope."
"Why'd
you leave?"
Daniel
considered the question. "I reckon that's
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