jg.paintedhouse-第24部分

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　joining　us　in　the　fields。　Late　Sunday；　Mr。　Spruill　had　asked　Pappy　if　it　would　be　all　right　if　Trot　hung　around　the　front　yard　all　day。　〃The　boy　can't　take　the　heat；〃　Mr。　Spruill　said。　Pappy　didn't　care　what　happened　to　Trot。　He　wasn't　worth　a　nickel　in　the　fields。
　　　When　the　tractor　stopped；　we　took　our　sacks　and　disappeared　into　the　rows　of　cotton。　Not　a　word　from　anyone。　An　hour　later；　the　sun　was　baking　us。　I　thought　of　Trot；　wasting　the　day　under　the　shade　tree；　napping　when　he　felt　like　it；　no　doubt　happy　about　the　work　he　was　missing。　He　might　have　been　a　little　off　in　the　head；　but　right　then　he　was　the　smartest　of　all　the　Spruills。
　　　Time　stopped　when　we　were　picking　cotton。　The　days　dragged　on；　each　yielding　ever　so　slowly　to　the　next。
　　　Over　supper　on　Thursday；　Pappy　announced；　〃We　won't　be　goin'　to　town　Saturday。〃
　　　I　felt　like　crying。　It　was　harsh　enough　to　labor　in　the　fields　all　week；　but　to　do　so　without　the　reward　of　popcorn　and　a　movie　was　downright　cruel。　What　about　my　weekly　Coca…Cola？
　　　A　long　silence　followed。　My　mother　watched　me　carefully。　She　did　not　seem　surprised；　and　I　got　the　impression　that　the　adults　had　already　had　this　discussion。　Now　they　were　just　going　through　the　motions　for　my　benefit。
　　　I　thought；　What　is　there　to　lose？　So　I　gritted　my　teeth　and　said；　〃Why　not？〃
　　　〃Because　I　said　so；〃　Pappy　fired　back　at　me；　and　I　knew　I　was　in　dangerous　territory。
　　　I　looked　at　my　mother。　There　was　a　curious　grin　on　her　face。
　　　〃You're　not　scared　of　the　Siscos；　are　you？〃　I　asked；　and　I　half…expected　one　of　the　men　to　make　a　grab　for　me。
　　　There　was　a　moment　of　deathly　silence。　My　father　cleared　his　throat　and　said；　〃It's　best　if　the　Spruills　stay　out　of　town　for　a　while。　We've　discussed　it　with　Mr。　Spruill；　and　we've　agreed　that　we'll　all　stay　put　Saturday。　Even　the　Mexicans。〃
　　　〃I　ain't　afraid　of　nobody；　son；〃　Pappy　growled　down　the　table。　I　refused　to　look　at　him。　〃And　don't　sass　me；〃　he　threw　in　for　good　measure。
　　　My　mother's　grin　was　still　firmly　in　place；　and　her　eyes　were　twinkling。　She　was　proud　of　me。
　　　〃I'll　need　a　couple　of　things　from　the　store；〃　Gran　said。　〃Some　flour　and　sugar。〃
　　　〃I'll　run　in；〃　Pappy　said。　〃I'm　sure　the　Mexicans'll　need　some　things；　too。〃
　　　Later；　they　moved　to　the　front　porch　for　our　ritual　of　sitting；　but　I　was　too　wounded　to　join　them。　I　lay　on　the　floor　of　Ricky's　room；　in　the　darkness；　listening　to　the　Cardinals　through　the　open　window　and　trying　to　ignore　the　soft；　slow　talk　of　the　adults。　I　tried　to　think　of　new　ways　to　hate　the　Spruills；　but　I　was　soon　overwhelmed　by　the　sheer　volume　of　their　misdeeds。　At　some　point　in　the　early　evening；　I　grew　too　still；　and　fell　asleep　on　the　floor。
　　　
　　　Lunch　on　Saturday　was　usually　a　happy　time。　The　work　week　was　over。　We　were　going　to　town。　If　I　could　survive　the　Saturday　scrubbing　on　the　back　porch；　then　life　was　indeed　wonderful；　if　only　for　a　few　hours。
　　　But　on　this　Saturday　there　was　no　excitement。　〃We'll　work　till　four；〃　Pappy　said；　as　if　he　was　doing　us　a　real　favor。　Big　deal。　We'd　knock　off　an　hour　early。　I　wanted　to　ask　him　if　we　were　going　to　work　on　Sunday；　too；　but　I'd　said　enough　on　Thursday　night。　He　was　ignoring　me　and　I　was　ignoring　him。　This　type　of　pouting　could　go　on　for　days。
　　　So　we　went　back　to　the　fields　instead　of　going　to　Black　Oak。　Even　the　Mexicans　seemed　irritated　by　this。　When　the　trailer　stopped；　we　took　our　sacks　and　slowly　disappeared　into　the　cotton。　I　picked　a　little　and　stalled　a　lot；　and　when　things　were　safe；　I　found　a　spot　and　went　down　for　a　nap。　They　could　banish　me　from　town；　they　could　force　me　into　the　fields；　but　they　couldn't　make　me　work　hard。　I　think　there　were　a　lot　of　naps　that　Saturday　afternoon。
　　　My　mother　found　me；　and　we　walked　to　the　house；　just　the　two　of　us。　She　was　not　feeling　well；　and　she　also　knew　the　injustice　that　was　being　inflicted　upon　me。　We　gathered　some　vegetables　from　the　garden；　but　only　a　few　things。　I　suffered　through　and　survived　the　dreaded　bath。　And　when　I　was　clean；　I　ventured　into　the　front　yard；　where　Trot　was　spending　his　days　guarding　Camp　Spruill。　We　had　no　idea　what　he　did　all　day；　no　one　really　cared。　We　were　too　busy　and　too　tired　to　worry　about　Trot。　I　found　him　sitting　behind　the　wheel　of　their　truck；　pretending　he　was　driving；　making　a　strange　sound　with　his　lips。　He　glanced　at　me　and　returned　to　his　driving　and　sputtering。
　　　When　I　heard　the　tractor　ing；　I　went　into　the　house；　where　I　found　my　mother　lying　on　her　bed；　something　she　never　did　during　the　day。　There　were　voices　around；　tired　voices　in　the　front；　where　the　Spruills　were　unwinding；　and　in　the　rear；　where　the　Mexicans　were　dragging　themselves　to　the　barn。　I　hid　in　Ricky's　room　for　a　while；　a　baseball　in　one　hand；　a　glove　on　the　other；　and　I　thought　of　Dewayne　and　the　Montgomery　twins　and　the　rest　of　my　friends　all　sitting　in　the　Dixie　watching　the　Saturday　feature　and　eating　popcorn。
　　　The　door　opened　and　Pappy　appeared。　〃I'm　goin'　to　Pop　and　Pearl's　for　a　few　things。　You　wanna　go？〃
　　　I　shook　my　head　no；　without　looking　at　him。
　　　〃I'll　buy　you　a　Coca…Cola；〃　he　said。
　　　〃No　thanks；〃　I　said；　still　staring　at　the　floor。
　　　Eli　Chandler　wouldn't　beg　for　mercy　in　front　of　a　firing　squad；　and　he　wasn't　about　to　plead　with　a　seven…year…old。　The　door　closed；　and　seconds　later　the　truck　engine　started。
　　　Wary　of　the　front　yard；　I　headed　for　the　back。　Near　the　silo；　where　the　Spruills　were　supposed　to　be　camping；　there　was　a　grassy　area　where　baseball　could　be　played。　It　wasn't　as　long　and　wide　as　my　field　in　the　front；　but　it　was　open　enough　and　ran　to　the　edge　of　the　cotton。　I　tossed　pop　flies　as　high　as　I　could；　and　I　stopped　only　after　I'd　caught　ten　in　a　row。
　　　Miguel　appeared　from　nowhere。　He　watched　me　for　a　minute；　and　under　the　pressure　of　an　audience；　I　dropped　three　in　a　row。　I　tossed　him　the　ball；　gently；　because　he　had　no　glove。　He　caught　it　effortlessly　and　snapped　it　back　to　me。　I　bobbled　it；　dropped　it；　kicked　it；　then　grabbed　it　and　threw　it　back　to　him；　this　time　a　little　harder。
　　　I　had　learned　the　previous　year　that　a　lot　of　Mexicans　played　baseball；　and　it　was　obvious　that　Miguel　knew　the　game。　His　hands　were　quick　and　soft；　his　throws　sharper　than　mine。　We　tossed　the　ball　for　a　few　minutes；　then　Rico　and　Pepe　and　Luis　joined　us。
　　　〃You　have　a　bat？〃　Miguel　asked。
　　　〃Sure；〃　I　said；　and　ran　to　the　house　to　get　it。
　　　When　I　returned；　Roberto　and　Pablo　had　joined　the　others；　and　the　group　was　flinging　my　baseball　in　all　directions。　〃You　bat；〃　Miguel　said；　and　he　took　charge。　He　put　a　piece　of　an　old　plank　on　the　ground；　ten　feet　in　front　of　the　silo；　and　said；　〃Home　plate。〃　The　others　scattered　throughout　the　infield。　Pablo；　in　shallow　center；　was　at　the　edge　of　the　cotton。　Rico　squatted　behind　me；　and　I　took　my　position　on　the　right　side　of　the　plate。　Miguel　performed　a　fierce　windup；　scared　me　for　a　second；　then　tossed　a　soft　one　that　I　swung　at　mightily　but　missed。
　　　I　also　missed　the　next　three；　then　ripped　a　couple。　The　Mexicans　cheered　and　laughed　when　I　made　contact；　but　said　nothing　when　I　didn't。　After　a　few　minutes　of　batting　practice；　I　gave　the　bat　to　Miguel　and　we　swapped　places。　I　started　him　with　fastballs；　and　he　didn't　appear　to　be　intimidated。　He　hit　line　drives　and　hot　grounders；　some　of　which　were　fielded　cleanly　by　the　Mexicans；　while　others　were　simply　retrieved。　Most　of　them　had　played　before；　but　a　couple　had　never　even　thrown　a　baseball。
　　　The　other　four　at　the　barn　heard　the　motion　and　they　wandered　over。　Cowboy　was　shirtless；　and　his　pants　were　rolled　up　to　his　knees。　He　seemed　to　be　a　foot　taller　than　the　rest。
　　　Luis　hit　next。　He　wasn't　as　experienced　as　Miguel；　and　I　had　no　trouble　fooling　him　with　my　change…up。　Much　to　my　delight；　I　noticed　Tally　and　Trot　sitting　under　an　elm；　watching　the　fun。
　　　Then　my　father　strolled　over。
　　　The　longer　we　played；　the　more　animated　the　Mexicans　became。　They　hollered　and　laughed　at　one　another's　miscues。　God　only　knew　what　they　were　saying　about　my　pitching。
　　　〃Let's　play　a　game；〃　my　father　said。　Bo　and　Dale　had　arrived；　also　shirtless　and　shoeless。　Miguel　was　consulted；　and　after　a　few　minutes　of　plotting；　it　was　decided　that　the　Mexicans　w