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“ ‘I’m sorry your wife is poorly,’ the countryman said, ‘and I thank you for the trouble you took to bring me my message, for I know that the spot where the trail from the county road leaves off at the start of the big woods is a long way to my place back in the hills where I live with my wife and small babe.’ “ ‘You we’come,’ the neighbor said and the countryman invited the neighbor to set a spell while his woman made some lemonade for the neighbor to drink after his hot and dusty trip. ‘Thank you kindly,’ his neighbor said, ‘for the truth is, I am sorely parched.’

“ ‘You we’come,’ the countryman said and told his wife to bring the lemonade. Then they both, the countryman and the neighbor, sat down on the porch swing. The neighbor could see that the countryman was a mite uneasy, though he tried to hide it by carefully matching his push on the swing with his own, the neighbor’s, push.

“ ‘Excuse me,’ the neighbor said, ‘I misremembered myself and have plumb forgot to give you the letter.’

“ ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ the countryman said, but from the relief on his, the countryman’s, face, he, the neighbor, could see that it, the letter, had in fact been on his, the countryman’s, mind.

“The neighbor excused himself and asked if he could go on back to the outhouse as he had ‘business.’

“ ‘Surely you may,’ the countryman said.

“ ‘Thank you kindly.’

“ ‘You we’come.’

“Now the neighbor had no ‘business,’ having done it, his business, in the big woods after starting out with the letter for his, the neighbor’s, neighbor, the countryman. All he wanted was to give the countryman time to read it, the letter, and when he figured that he had had enough, time, to read the letter, it, he, the neighbor, came back outside and returned to where he had left him, the countryman, sitting, on the porch, the porch.

“Now when he returned, what was his surprise to see that there were tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to ask him about it and he knew it so he told him.

“ ‘From my brother.’

“ ‘Oh?’

“ ‘He says Paw is dying. I must be off. Enjoy your lemonade.’

He kissed his wife and small babe and solemnly shook his neighbor’s hand, but the neighbor, feeling he had badly served his neighbor the countryman by delaying the twenty-four hours before he brought the letter, and fearing, too, that it might already be too late and wishing to make amends, rose and offered to go back with him and take him to the city where he knew the countryman’s father lived and was now dying or already dead.

“ ‘Take me? How you fixin’ to do that?’

“ ‘In my pickup.’

“ ‘You got a pickup?’

“ ‘I live where the trail from the start of the big woods leaves off at the start of the county road. I do.’

“ ‘Thank you.’

“ ‘You we’come.’

“And he was good as his word, that he had a pickup and that he would drive them, himself, the neighbor, and the countryman, to the city, where his, the countryman’s, Paw was dying or already dead.

“They drove all day and all night and the morning of the next day and the miles flew by and they were already close to the city where his, etc., etc., was dying or already dead, when the pickup sputtered and steamed and gave out.

“The countryman was heartbroken. ‘I am sure sorely sorry,’ he said. ‘I would not have had that to happen for anything. Why to think,’ he, the countryman, said, ‘and all you wanted was to he’p a neighbor, me, a countryman, up to his eyes in it, shit, trouble, and your pickup is all busted and won’t never to run again and lick up the miles like they ’us on’y just steps. I am sorely sorry and when this is all over I will save and save till I get enough, money, to buy you another one, a pickup. And now I must be on my way to my Paw’s sick side. Thank you.’ And he was already out his side of the pickup before he, the neighbor, could properly say, ‘You we’come.’

“ ‘Ho’d up,’ he called, ‘ho’d up.’

“The countryman looked back and, seeing it was his neighbor calling, stopped in his tracks in the road.

“ ‘What?’

“ ‘It ain’t busted,’ he said.

“ ‘It ain’t?’

“ ‘I to’d you.’

“ ‘Why don’t it to go then?’

“ ‘ ’Cause we worked her too hard. The radiator boiled over. All we need is to get us some water and pour it in the radiator and she’ll go again good as new.’

“There was a stream close by the road and the neighbor, who kept a five-gallon gas can in the back of his pickup for just such emergencies, took the can and filled it at the stream and carried it back and poured its contents into the radiator and, after waiting a few more minutes for the engine to cool, started the pickup smooth as anything and they were on their, the neighbor’s and the countryman’s, way again as if nothing, the pickup sputtering and steaming and giving out, had ever happened. But the neighbor noticed that there was an odd expression on the countryman’s face. It was a troubled expression, but not the same sort of troubled expression he had seen when he had first returned from the outhouse where he had gone to pretend to do a business he had already done in the big woods on the way to his, the countryman’s, place back in the hills, in order to give him time to read the letter he, the neighbor of the countryman, had brought him, the neighbor of the neighbor. A naturally polite man, he did not want to trouble this already troubled man with his curiosity but he must have seen this because he too was a polite man and knew that that was on his mind and he decided finally to introduce the subject as much for his satisfaction as for his.

“ ‘If,’ he said, ‘a wheel was to bust, what would to happen then?’

“ ‘If a wheel was to bust? Why, I’d just get a new wheel and stick ’er on.’

“The countryman nodded.

“ ‘What about if that thing you poured that ’ere water in from that stream was to crack and couldn’t to hold no water — what then?’

“ ‘The radiator?’

“ ‘That what you call ’er?’

“ ‘The radiator, yes, sir.’

“ ‘What would to happen?’

“ ‘Well then, I guess I’d have to have them solder the crack or have them to put in a new radiator.’

“ ‘Them?’

“ ‘The mechanics.’

“ ‘I see. Thank you.’

“ ‘You we’come.’

“ ‘Suppose the engine itself?’

“ ‘Same thing.’

“ ‘The mechanics?’

“ ‘Yep.’

“The countryman nodded.

“ ‘And the same,’ the neighbor said, ‘if it was pistons or rods or a transmission or a carburetor or if the battery was to die.’

“ ‘The mechanics.’

“ ‘Sho.’

“The countryman paused for a moment, then turned in his seat to face the neighbor. ‘Where,’ he asked, ‘do them mechanics get all that ’ere machinery?’