Georgia Boy by Erskine Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page A

porch and we threw them on the pile.
    While we were sitting down resting, my old man came staggering through the alley gate carrying a big load of iron. He had the handle from a pump, a couple of sad irons, an ax blade, an iron washpot, and a lot of other things. All the pieces looked a lot newer than the things we had found around our house, and the washpot was still warm from having had a fire under it. He threw the load on the pile and went right back through the alley gate again.
    When he came back the next time, he was carrying more than ever. He was weighted down so much that his knees sagged when he walked, and it was all he could do to reach the fence and drop the load on the pile. In the second load he had brought a set of shiny monkey wrenches, a pair of fireplace tongs, and a poker, a heavy iron skillet, and a lot or small things.
    “I don’t see how you can find all them things, Mr. Morris,” Handsome said. “I done my best, but I couldn’t find nothing like it.”
    Pa didn’t say anything, but he wiped his face with his shirtsleeve.
    “What are we going to do now, Pa?” I asked.
    “Drive Ida and the cart around here, son,” he said “We’ll load up and then I’ll drive down and collect the money from the man. I figure we ought to have a thousand pounds or more. That’ll bring in a lot of money I hadn’t figured on before.”
    Handsome and I led Ida around to the pile of scrap iron, and all of us pitched in and loaded it into the cart. When we had finished, Pa got a drink from the water bucket and climbed in and picked up the reins.
    “Is we still going fishing today, Mr. Morris?” Handsome said.
    “I’ll be back in no time,” Pa said, slapping Ida on the back with the reins. “I’ll be back as soon as I get the money from the man.”
    Handsome and I sat down on the steps and watched Pa drive off. We sat there a long time, and the sun climbed higher and higher. After a while Handsome went inside to look at the clock. The sun was directly overhead by then.
    We waited another hour, and then I saw Ida’s big ears bobbing up and down over the garden fence. We jumped up and ran out to meet my old man. He slapped Ida with the reins and turned into the yard.
    “Is we ready to go fishing now, Mr. Morris?” Handsome said. “If we don’t hurry and get to the creek, all the fish will stop biting for the rest of the day.”
    Pa climbed out, holding a brand-new pair of knee-length rubber boots. He put them on the ground while we looked at them.
    “When I collected the four dollars for the scrap iron from the man,” Pa said, standing back and looking at the rubber boots, “the first thing I thought of was this pair of boots in Frank Dunn’s store. I’ve sure been needing them for a long time. I don’t see how I managed to get along without them up to now.”
    “What is you going to do with them, Mr. Morris?” Handsome asked.
    “Wear them like they was meant to be,” Pa said.
    “I ain’t never seen it get muddy enough around here in this sandy country to need knee-high rubber boots,” Handsome said.
    “That’s because you never took the trouble to notice how damp it gets sometimes when it rains,” Pa said.
    “Maybe so,” Handsome said, “but it always manages to dry up half an hour afterward, and it would take that much time to find them boots and put them on. Looks like to me we could have spent all the wasted time fishing. Mis’ Martha’s going to be coming back here tonight, and I won’t have another chance to go fishing until next year. We sure could have caught a lot of fish while you was wasting the time fooling around with them boots.”
    “You’d better mind how you talk,” Pa said. “Now, I’ve got half a mind to go off to the creek and leave you behind.”
    “Please don’t do that, Mr. Morris,” Handsome said. “I didn’t mean that about the boots. They’re the handsomest rubber boots I ever saw before in all my life. They’re the finest kind of things to have