Journeyman by Erskine Caldwell Read Free Book Online

it.
    “Are you aiming to preach at the schoolhouse Sunday, preacher?” he said.
    “Nothing else but, coz,” Semon said.
    “Doggone,” Tom promised. “I’ll sure be there to hear you. I couldn’t miss that for love or money.”
    He lifted the jug to his mouth and swallowed a little more than either Clay or Semon had. After he had finished, he put the stopper back and drove it in with his fist.
    The April sun beat down upon the magnolia leaves over their heads. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the day had started out to be another hot one. By two o’clock that afternoon the sun would be scorching.
    Presently Tom took out his watch and looked at it. He studied the open face as though he were looking at something he had never seen before. He shook his head and put it back into his overalls pocket.
    “I’ve got to be going to McGuffin,” he said determinedly. “I’ll never get there and back the same day if I don’t get started.”
    “Let’s have another drink before you go, coz,” Semon suggested, reaching for the jug. He took out the stopper and drank heavily. Then he handed it over to Clay. “That’s a man’s drink all right, all right.”
    “You must have been around a little in your day, preacher,” Tom said.
    “My day is a long way from being over yet,” Semon said. “But when my day is done, it’s going to have been a long one.”
    Tom walked towards his car with the jug. He placed it under the back seat, wrapped it carefully with a burlap bag to keep it from being broken.
    He got into his automobile and started the motor. He sat with the engine running, waving to Clay and Semon. They waved back at him.
    “I’ll be seeing you folks on my way back,” Tom promised. “I’ll stop by, and we’ll all have another drink.”
    Tom once more started to leave, but he idled the engine again and leaned far over the door.
    “Look out for loaded dice, preacher,” he shouted. “Don’t let anybody roll you.”
    He was gone. The car sped down the road and rounded the bend a quarter of a mile away. But long after he had passed from sight, the dust that had been blown into the air floated over the field and drifted slowly out of sight into the woods.
    Both of them were feeling good when they went back to the porch. Their step was light, and their eyes shone. Dene had watched everything that had happened, and she remained in the house out of sight. She was afraid of men when they were drinking; she was even afraid of Clay.
    “We ought to make Tom a deacon,” Semon said. He’s a fine fellow. I like to do things for fine fellows.”
    “I didn’t know you was going to have deacons at the schoolhouse Sunday.”
    “Sure,” Semon told him. “Who’d take up the collections if we didn’t have deacons?”
    “That’s right,” Clay agreed, nodding his head. “I hadn’t thought about that at all.”
    “Have to take up the money,” Semon explained. “I couldn’t bear the expense of preaching unless I was paid for it.”
    “I can’t say as I blame you for wanting pay. That’s right and proper. But you don’t go to expense to preach, do you? It don’t cost you anything to get your bed and board, and gas for your car won’t amount to so very much.”
    “I always like to have a little money left over. When I pass through a city like Augusta or Macon or Atlanta, I like to have enough money in my pocket to pay my way, laying over for a day or two.”
    “It wouldn’t take so awful much for that.”
    “I like the best money can buy when it comes to laying over in a city.”
    “That don’t sound so bad,” Clay said. “Maybe I’d like it myself. Reckon I could be a preacher, Semon?”
    Semon jabbed him in the ribs with a piercing thrust of his stiff thumb. Clay shouted, jumping high into the air.
    “Good God Almighty!” he yelled. “Don’t never do that again! I can’t stand to be goosed like that!”
    “You don’t happen to be ticklish, do you, Horey?”
    “That ain’t no name for