58
PARTISAN REVIEW
quiet. Quiet be damned. She's breeding trouble. The best of
them: poker face and play one jack against the other."
The boss went into the house. Then he got into his car and
drove to the mill.
Steve and Murf squatted at the foot of the ash tree, Murf
tickling his pet toad and feeding it flies. He said, "The boss is
a sly guy. He'll take on a man cook now because with summer
he don't care how the place goes to hang so long as he gets a
fellow who can sling hash for the whole harvest gang. The best
trying woman can't stand the gaff. Now that she's cleaned up
the place, she can go to hell. Makes believe to the world Muley
wants it."
The kitchen door banged. Out tore the girl wild as wind.
"Where's Mule?"
The old man dropped his toad.
She stumbled thru the yard towards
the
machine shop.
When the two men crashed in after her, she was flagging
Mule with both hands. "Feeding you till it runs out of your
ears, washing your shity shirttails. Scared of my own shadow.
What did I ever do you? You
I"
Mule's big ears burned.
"Worked in a tobacco factory. Searched our drawers
afraid we was hiding cartons up us. Linking sausages the
strawboss sawing away at us, speed up. Waiting, waiting–
look!" She flashed up her dress. Her right leg swollen thick
with blue veins. "What you got against me? Here's my Blue
Eagle stamp."
She started screaming, "What do you want? Setting the
boss against me. We-we should be together. Got a place to
sleep, to eat. What do you want, you?" She threw her dress
high above her big white kness. She rushed back to the kitchen,
her wild face torn thru her hair.
Mule stood spiked to the ground, his scar filled with blood.
Steve stared at his brother. He scraped the sweat off his
forehead.
"Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ," said the old man slowly,
reverently.
Mule said at last thickly, "Hell with her." He stuck his
head after the the monkey wrench into the tractor.
The two walked back. From the room above the kitchen:
"My God, oh my God."
The old man turned pale. He stomped up and knocked at