Part 9 (1/2)

”Thank goodness, he's outta sight. Come on in, Ned. I'd better measure up your oil. Now, where'd I set that can?”

”Here 'tis, Mister Jodie.”

I fell asleep, or something, for the next I heard was Papa yelling at some man and a big blamming racket that sounded like chairs falling over.

”You're a fool for thinking up such a notion! A plain fool! I ain't gonna let you have money to set up no whiskey still! I don't care who you threaten!”

I raised up to see who Papa was calling a fool.

It was Mister Ward!

”G.o.d d.a.m.n! It wouldn't take no heap to get me my copper cooker! Folks'd never suspicion nothin' neither, you bein' a church-goin' man-Miss Nannie's husband, to boot. Ever'-body knows she's purt nigh a walkin' saint!”

”Ward Lawson, don't call my wife's name when you're talking whiskey, cussing every breath!”

”You tryin' to tell me how to talk? You goody-goody church deacon!”

”You'd better go on home, Ward, and-”

”'Fore Chris'mas I could pay you back! Whiskey sells quick!

Good money in it! Why, I'd pay up what's done charged on your store books! Think o' that!”

”I told you no, Ward! I mean it!”

Mister Ward hauled off and hit Papa so quick it knocked him down! He straightened up and gave him back a big wallop!

”This ain't nothing to fight over, Ward!”

”I ain't gonna fight. I'm just gonna knock h.e.l.l outta you!”

Next minute they were down in the middle of the floor, fighting like all get out, rolling over and over! Both of them jumped up! Down on the floor they sprawled again-but just for a second. Mister Ward leaped behind the heater, but Papa went at him and started banging him to pieces! Mister Ward grabbed Papa's arms and threw him against the wall. His head hit the side of the phone, and he slid to the floor, blood running out of his nose!

Mister Ward jumped on Papa! More blood came streaking across his face from a gash by his ear!

I had to do something!

I thought of the time Mama dashed cold water on some fighting dogs to make them quit, so I ran for the water bucket. The thing was slam empty! Then I saw the coal oil drum. I s.n.a.t.c.hed the measuring can off its hook and dipped up all the oil it would hold!

By the time I could get to Papa and Mister Ward, Papa was just lying on the floor doing nothing! And Mister Ward was astraddle of him, beating his head with both fists!

Mister Ward hadn't seen me, so I ran up close and splashed the oil on him! I didn't mean for it to go in his eyes and ears, but that's where it all landed. He screamed and grabbed at his face!

”G.o.d A'mighty! You little devil! Tryin' to blind me?”

He jumped up. Before I could run around the heater, he yanked up a chair and threw it at me. I ducked. The chair crashed against the stovepipe and it fell tumbling from the ceiling. Two joints. .h.i.t right across Mister Ward's shoulders; the other rolled toward Papa. Soot flew everywhere. But not on me! I was already under the candy counter.

Papa was coming to. He caught hold of the piece goods counter and dragged himself to his feet. But quick as Mister Ward could kick the stovepipe out of his way, he rammed his head at Papa's stomach and tried to knock him down again.

Papa jumped to one side and whirled back around. He leaped at Mister Ward, giving him a shove that sent him skidding through the front door and out onto the porch!

”Get out, you drunken wretch!”

Mister Ward scrambled to his knees, then up to his feet, and staggered back toward us. To keep from falling he had to grab hold of the door facing.