— No imagination, son. It’s like the country, now. We can’t come up with something new to do with all these niggers multiplying like rabbits, we better hurry up and send them all back to Africa, like they should’ve done after the Civil War.
— I don’t think, Earl said, it was or is possible to load millions of niggers onto a hundred thousand boats and ship them all to Africa, contrary to popular belief.
— Well, we could’ve tried, Junius said. -Hitler wouldn’t have ever gone to war with us, would’ve needed our advice on how to get rid of the Jews.
— Well you warm my heart, Papa, Earl said. -And after you naming one of your sons after a Jew businessman.
— You know I don’t mean it, Junius said. -Old Levi was a good man, wasn’t like some Jews, whereas the only good nigger I ever knew was that electric one you had out in your shed. Kept his mouth shut, didn’t complain, worked when you plugged him in, stayed out of sight.
They were out in the backyard drinking lemonade.
— I tell you what, Earl said, things are going to have to change at some point. You had colored boys fighting in the war, fought for their country, came home and still just niggers, here. How you think that sat with them? I don’t see the harm in treating colored people like human beings. I’m not saying treat them like they’re white. But you treat people right and they’ll treat you right, colored or white. Trash is trash, colored or white. You deal with good people, you get good results.
— I tell you what, they shouldn’t have taken them in the army. Teaching niggers how to fight a war? That’s crazy. Hell, they’ll kill us all.
— Well I’m not sure I’d blame them. I was colored, I’d hang every white man I could get my hands on.
— See what I mean, Junius said.
— It’ll all settle in, one of these days, Earl said. -It’ll take a hell of a long time, but one day they will have their piece of the world, and my grandchildren or their children will be going to school with their grandchildren or great-grandchildren. And whites will be marrying colored. And everybody becoming some kind of light shade of brown. That’s what it’ll be one day.
— I think you have lost your mind.
— It’s the law of nature. Things change slow but they always change. We got some shading going on already, have for a long time, and thanks if I may say so to many fine upstanding white people, present company not excluded.
— I don’t have any nigger children running around.
— I’m sure you put on a rubber every time you visited the woodpile.
— Ease up, son, Junius said. -My woodpile days is over, I expect. I’ll leave it to them boys delivering mail and newspapers to the quarters, such as that, getting their payment in the bedroom.
He drained his glass and rattled the ice in the bottom.
— How about getting up and getting your old papa another glass of lemonade.
— How about you call for one of them murderous niggers works for me to get it for you?
Junius said nothing, just held the glass toward Earl with an impassive, sweaty look on his face. Earl sighed, got up, and took the glass into the kitchen.
Creasie was standing at the stove stirring a pan of fried corn.
— Where’s that lemonade, Creasie?
— Yes, sir, I put it back in the icebox. You want me to bring y’all some more?
— No, I’ll get it.
He opened the refrigerator and got out the jug of lemonade and poured the glasses full. Dropped a couple of cubes of ice in, started back out.
— Mr. Earl, you want any more just holler, I’ll bring it out to you.
— All right.
When he got back out to the lawn chairs, Junius wasn’t there. He saw him lying in the shade of the oak tree over by the creek and walked over. Junius’s hat was over his face, his breathing heavy. He sat down beside him and drank down his glass, sipped at Junius’s. He saw Frank come out of the cabin then and go to the shed, get the fishing gear, and go to the car. Big buck grabbed the boat trailer handle with his bare hands and hauled it over to the car, hitched it, turned and waved at Earl sitting there. Bags already loaded into the car. Earl patted Junius on the arm and said, — All right, Papa, we’re heading out. Get Birdie to drive you home if you don’t want to take the train, now. Junius grunted, went on breathing heavy.
Frank was already sitting in the boat. Earl told everyone he made Frank sit back there, but truth was it was Frank’s idea and he wouldn’t budge from it. He liked it. Said come on up here, sit in the backseat. Thank you, sir, I like riding in the boat. All right then, Earl said, you hang on. I’m not taking it easy just because you’re crazy enough to want to ride in an open boat on a trailer going seventy miles an hour. Yes, sir, I like a little danger, Frank said. Suit yourself, then, Earl said. Pissed him off, first time they drove down like that, and flicking his butt out the window was done in anger. He saw Frank dodge it and try to catch it at the same time. That made him grin. So he kept doing it. Third time, Frank caught it and smoked it the rest of the way down. After that, he rarely missed. Crazy son of a bitch had his own cigarettes, now, too.
Ann’s car was already parked outside the cottage when they drove up to Maurier’s camp, the little Mercury coupe he’d given her, driven up from the Tallahassee store, which he’d had her in about six months. He drove over to the landing, backed the boat in. Frank unhooked the cable and pulled the boat over to the dock while Earl parked under the trees across from the cottages and went on in, waving to Frank. Routine was Frank’d be there next morning at five o’clock to go out on the boat. Ann would sleep in most of the morning, work on her books for the Tallahassee store in the afternoon, when he’d come in from fishing. Then he’d leave the catch with Frank to clean and ice down and they’d go out to dinner. Last day, Maurier would set up his propane kettle and Frank’d deep-fry the weekend’s catch and they’d all eat, Frank right there at the table with them. Even give him a beer. Ann liked her beer, and Earl wasn’t one of those teetotalers cared if anybody else drank, as long as they weren’t a drunk.
She was on the bed taking a nap in her clothes, pale yellow dress riding up over her knees and the toes of her stockings twisted from her shoes. Ceiling fan going full bore and blowing at a wisp of blond hair on her forehead, mouth just parted in sleep. Her eyes opened and without looking over at him, looking up into the fan blades, she said, — Hey.
— Hey, there.
He held back a second, watching her. Sensing her mood as if through air molecules in the room between them. She’d become tired of things being this way. Of only seeing him two or three times a month. He’d said, from the beginning, That’s all you want to see of me, if you take my advice. That’s about what I’m good for, when it comes to being pleasant company. Well then, she used to say, maybe you’re not the company I need to keep. May be, he would say. But you know I can’t leave Birdie, she can’t take care of herself. Then she would pout awhile. For such a good-looking woman, she had a bad pout. Changed her whole appearance. Scared him a little bit. Her brooding light blue-green eyes had stopped him in his tracks when she’d come in the store the first time. Can I help you? he’d managed to say. You can give me a job, she said right back, just the hint of a smile. All right, he’d said, without hesitation. When can you start? Right this minute, if you like, she said. He’d thought about it, said, Why don’t you start in the morning. But you can tell me your name now, if you want to. Ann Christensen, she said. All right, Ann, he said. I’m Earl. I know, she said. This is my store, he said. I know, she said. Stood there staring at each other a minute. Then she turned and walked out. Other girls hated her immediately, of course. Wasn’t six months he got the chance to open the store in Tallahassee and made her manager, that solved that. Except that he found himself driving to the coast every weekend so he could spend them with her at Maurier’s. By that time in love with her in a way he had not considered he was susceptible to. He’d never felt that way about a woman, before. Birdie had been cute, popular, and he realized he’d wanted to possess her, like a car or money. But just the presence of Ann had sucked something right out of him, left him spent and entirely open to something else. It made him feel vulnerable. Made him feel more alive. If he hadn’t already pretty much set himself up by then he might not have given enough of a damn to do it, after that.