In Our Time by Ernest Hemingway Read Free Book Online

cloth-wrapped blackjack on the grass. The little man lay there, his face in the grass. The negro picked him up, his head hanging, and carried him to the fire. His face looked bad, the eyes open. Bugs laid him down gently.
    â€œWill you bring me the water in the bucket, Mister Adams,” he said. “I’m afraid I hit him just a little hard.”
    The negro splashed water with his hand on the man’s face and pulled his ears gently. The eyes closed.
    Bugs stood up.
    â€œHe’s all right,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m sorry, Mister Adams.”
    â€œIt’s all right.” Nick was looking down at the little man. He saw the blackjack on the grass and picked it up. It had a flexible handle and was limber in his hand. It was made of worn black leather with a handkerchief wrapped around the heavy end.
    â€œThat’s a whalebone handle,” the negro smiled. “They don’t make them any more. I didn’t know how well you could take care of yourself and, anyway, I didn’t want you to hurt him or mark him up no more than he is.”
    The negro smiled again.
    â€œYou hurt him yourself.”
    â€œI know how to do it. He won’t remember nothing of it. I have to do it to change him when he gets that way.”
    Nick was still looking down at the little man, lying, his eyes closed in the firelight. Bugs put some wood on the fire.
    â€œDon’t you worry about him none, Mister Adams. I seen him like this plenty of times before.”
    â€œWhat made him crazy?” Nick asked.
    â€œOh, a lot of things,” the negro answered from the fire. “Would you like a cup of this coffee, Mister Adams?”
    He handed Nick the cup and smoothed the coat he had placed under the unconscious man’s head.
    â€œHe took too many beatings, for one thing,” the negro sipped the coffee. “But that just made him sort of simple. Then his sister was his manager and they was always being written up in the papers all about brothers and sisters and how she loved her brother and how he loved his sister, and then they got married in New York and that made a lot of unpleasantness.”
    â€œI remember about it.”
    â€œSure. Of course they wasn’t brother and sister no more than a rabbit, but there was a lot of people didn’t like it either way and they commenced to have disagreements, and one day she just went off and never come back.”
    He drank the coffee and wiped his lips with the pink palm of his hand.
    â€œHe just went crazy. Will you have some more coffee, Mister Adams?”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œI seen her a couple of times,” the negro went on. “She was an awful good-looking woman. Looked enough like him to be twins. He wouldn’t be bad-looking without his face all busted.”
    He stopped. The story seemed to be over.
    â€œWhere did you meet him?” asked Nick.
    â€œI met him in jail,” the negro said. “He was busting people all the time after she went away and they put him in jail. I was in for cuttin’ a man.”
    He smiled, and went on soft-voiced:
    â€œRight away I liked him and when I got out I looked him up. He likes to think I’m crazy and I don’t mind. I like to be with him and I like seeing the country and I don’t have to commit no larceny to do it. I like living like a gentleman.”
    â€œWhat do you all do?” Nick asked.
    â€œOh, nothing. Just move around. He’s got money.”
    â€œHe must have made a lot of money.”
    â€œSure. He spent all his money, though. Or they took it away from him. She sends him money.”
    He poked up the fire.
    â€œShe’s a mighty fine woman,” he said. “She looks enough like him to be his own twin.”
    The negro looked over at the little man, lying breathing heavily. His blond hair was down over his forehead. His mutilated face looked childish in repose.
    â€œI can wake him up