way to cut the cords off my bundles on Saturday if Ara T didn’t have my knife ready.
That meant I would have to ask another carrier to borrow his. And that meant saying Knife.
Chapter Four
A rainy Saturday morning in the summer was usually a good time to stay in bed and think about playing baseball but I was up and dressed early just like it was a school day.
Even though there was a light rain coming down I could hear a gasoline lawn mower in the front yard. A man always came on Saturday in the summer to cut our grass and trim our bushes. But not just any man.
Big Sack was the tallest and widest human being in Memphis. He would pull up to the curb in front of our house in his old truck and lift the mower out of the back like it was a feather. After he finished mowing he would come to the front door and ring the bell. Mam would give him his pay and he would be on his way without saying much.
I had asked Mam why he was called Big Sack.
His family name be Thomas but I don’t rightly know his given name. The story always be told that when he came out of his mammy somebody yelled to get a clean flour sack from the kitchen and to make it a Big Sack.
Mam was sweeping the kitchen floor when I came downstairs. My father always played golf early on Saturday mornings with his business friends and I didn’t know where my mother was but I could see her car was gone.
Can you eat flapjacks with your lip?
You s-s-s-s-bet I s-s-s-s-can.
Mam put down the broom and started getting the makings out of the pantry. About that time the front doorbell rang. She reached into her apron.
Go give Big Sack his three dollars.
When I went in the entrance hall Big Sack was standing at the front door that was mostly glass. His body blocked out the light coming in. I opened the door and handed him the three dollars. I was about to close the door when he took his hat off.
Reckon I could speak to Miss Nellie?
Sure. I’ll s-s-s-s-get her.
Mam was finishing up the pancakes in the kitchen.
s-s-s-s-Big Sack s-s-s-s-needs you.
Start buttering your cakes. I be right back.
I was pouring syrup on my pancakes when Mam came into the kitchen. She sat down at the table across from me and gave me one of her straight looks that meant she had some business with me.
You been talkin’ to Ara T?
I s-s-s-s-loaned him some s-s-s-s-quarters to s-s-s-s-buy—
Mam usually let me finish my sentences no matter how long it took me but she was ready to get on to me but good.
You know you’re not supposed to be hanging ’round that man.
s-s-s-s-I ran in-s-s-s-s- to him in s-s-s-s-alley and—
Don’t you be running into him. You hear me? You best be running the other way.
s-s-s-s-What’s so s-s-s-s-bad about Ara T?
We’re not talking ’bout that man no more. You stay away from him. Far away.
Mam hardly ever talked down about anyone but she never had anything good to say about Ara T. I asked her once if she had known him before she came to Memphis and all she said was As Little As I Could.
The first thing Mam would do if anything went missing in the neighborhood was to say she was going to check out Ara T and his junk cart. The reason I have my new Schwinn Black Phantom is because my old one with the big shiny headlight on the handlebars was stolen one night when I forgot to roll it in the garage. A while later Ara T showed up with a pushcart with new wheels on it. Mam said she checked the cart out but the wheels and tires didn’t look like the ones from my stolen bike. Mam said that didn’t mean Ara T couldn’t have swapped wheels with another junkman from another part of town. Mam said she trusted Ara T about as far as she could heave him.
I pitched two innings that morning until the umpire called off the game because of the wet field. No one had gotten a hit off me yet so stopping the game usually would have bothered me but I had the paper route on my mind.
The newspaper truck came at one o’clock on Saturdays. Two hours earlier than the
That meant I would have to ask another carrier to borrow his. And that meant saying Knife.
Chapter Four
A rainy Saturday morning in the summer was usually a good time to stay in bed and think about playing baseball but I was up and dressed early just like it was a school day.
Even though there was a light rain coming down I could hear a gasoline lawn mower in the front yard. A man always came on Saturday in the summer to cut our grass and trim our bushes. But not just any man.
Big Sack was the tallest and widest human being in Memphis. He would pull up to the curb in front of our house in his old truck and lift the mower out of the back like it was a feather. After he finished mowing he would come to the front door and ring the bell. Mam would give him his pay and he would be on his way without saying much.
I had asked Mam why he was called Big Sack.
His family name be Thomas but I don’t rightly know his given name. The story always be told that when he came out of his mammy somebody yelled to get a clean flour sack from the kitchen and to make it a Big Sack.
Mam was sweeping the kitchen floor when I came downstairs. My father always played golf early on Saturday mornings with his business friends and I didn’t know where my mother was but I could see her car was gone.
Can you eat flapjacks with your lip?
You s-s-s-s-bet I s-s-s-s-can.
Mam put down the broom and started getting the makings out of the pantry. About that time the front doorbell rang. She reached into her apron.
Go give Big Sack his three dollars.
When I went in the entrance hall Big Sack was standing at the front door that was mostly glass. His body blocked out the light coming in. I opened the door and handed him the three dollars. I was about to close the door when he took his hat off.
Reckon I could speak to Miss Nellie?
Sure. I’ll s-s-s-s-get her.
Mam was finishing up the pancakes in the kitchen.
s-s-s-s-Big Sack s-s-s-s-needs you.
Start buttering your cakes. I be right back.
I was pouring syrup on my pancakes when Mam came into the kitchen. She sat down at the table across from me and gave me one of her straight looks that meant she had some business with me.
You been talkin’ to Ara T?
I s-s-s-s-loaned him some s-s-s-s-quarters to s-s-s-s-buy—
Mam usually let me finish my sentences no matter how long it took me but she was ready to get on to me but good.
You know you’re not supposed to be hanging ’round that man.
s-s-s-s-I ran in-s-s-s-s- to him in s-s-s-s-alley and—
Don’t you be running into him. You hear me? You best be running the other way.
s-s-s-s-What’s so s-s-s-s-bad about Ara T?
We’re not talking ’bout that man no more. You stay away from him. Far away.
Mam hardly ever talked down about anyone but she never had anything good to say about Ara T. I asked her once if she had known him before she came to Memphis and all she said was As Little As I Could.
The first thing Mam would do if anything went missing in the neighborhood was to say she was going to check out Ara T and his junk cart. The reason I have my new Schwinn Black Phantom is because my old one with the big shiny headlight on the handlebars was stolen one night when I forgot to roll it in the garage. A while later Ara T showed up with a pushcart with new wheels on it. Mam said she checked the cart out but the wheels and tires didn’t look like the ones from my stolen bike. Mam said that didn’t mean Ara T couldn’t have swapped wheels with another junkman from another part of town. Mam said she trusted Ara T about as far as she could heave him.
I pitched two innings that morning until the umpire called off the game because of the wet field. No one had gotten a hit off me yet so stopping the game usually would have bothered me but I had the paper route on my mind.
The newspaper truck came at one o’clock on Saturdays. Two hours earlier than the
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