Suttree Read Online Free PDF

head and blew and took another drink and handed over the bottle with his face averted in agony. When he could speak he said: Boys, I've fought some bad whiskey but I'm a dirty nigger if that there aint almost too sorry to drink.
    J-Bone waved the bottle toward the door where Junior stood grinning. Brother, dont you want a drink?
    Junior shook his head.
    Boys, scoot over and let the old Nigger set down.
    Here Nig, set here. Scoot over some, Bearhunter.
    Lord boys if I aint plumb give out. He took off his glasses and wiped his weepy eyes.
    What you been up to, Nig?
    I been tryin to raise some money about Bobby. He turned and looked up at Suttree. Dont I know you? he said.
    We drank a few beers together.
    I thought I remembered ye. Did you not know Bobby?
    I saw him a time or two.
    Nigger shook his head reflectively, I raised four boys and damned if they aint all in the penitentiary cept Ralph. Of course we all went to Jordonia. And they did have me up here in the workhouse one time but I slipped off. Old Blackburn was guard up there knowed me but he never would say nothin. Was you in Jordonia? Clarence says they aint nothin to it now. Boys, when I was in there it was rougher'n a old cob. Course they didnt send ye there for singin in a choir. I done three year for stealin. Tried to get sent to T S I where they learn ye a trade but you had to be tardy to get in down there and they said I wasnt tardy. I was eighteen when I come out of Jordonia and that was in nineteen and sixteen. I wisht I could understand them boys of mine. They have costed me. I spent eighteen thousand dollars gettin them boys out. Their grandaddy was never in the least trouble that you could think of and he lived to be eighty-seven year old. Now he'd take a drink. Which I do myself. But he was never in no trouble with the law.
    Get ye a drink, Sut.
    Nigger intercepted the bottle. You know Jim? He's a fine boy. Dont think he aint. I wisht McAnally Flats was full of em just like him. I knowed his daddy. He was smaller than Junior yonder. Just a minute. Whew. Damn if that aint some whiskey. He wouldnt take nothin off nobody, Irish Long wouldnt. I remember he come over on what they used to call Woolen Mill Corners there one time. You know where it's at Jim. Where Workers Cafe is at. Come over there one Sunday mornin huntin a man and they was a bunch of tush hogs all standin around out there under a shed used to be there, you boys wouldnt remember it, drinkin whiskey and was friends of this old boy's, and Irish Long walked up to em and wanted to know where he's at. Well, they wouldnt say, but they wasnt a one of them tush hogs ast what he wanted with him. He would mortally whip your ass if you messed with him, Irish Long would. And they wasnt nobody in McAnally no betterhearted. He give away everthing he owned. He'd of been rich if he wanted. Had them stores. Nobody didnt have no money, people couldnt buy their groceries. You boys dont remember the depression. He'd tell em just go on and get what they needed. Flour and taters. Milk for the babies. He never turned down nobody, Irish Long never. They is people livin in this town today in big houses that would of starved plumb to death cept for him but they aint big enough to own it.
    Better get ye a drink there Sut, fore Nigger drinks it all.
    Give Bearhunter a drink, Suttree said.
    How about givin Bobbyjohn a drink, said Bobbyjohn.
    There's a man'll take a drink, said Nigger. Dont think he wont.
    Which I will myself, said J-Bone.
    Which I will my damnself, said Nigger.
    Jimmy Smith was moving through the room like an enormous trained mole collecting the empty cans. He shuffled out, his small eyes blinking. Kenneth Hazelwood stood in the doorframe watching them all with a sardonic smile.
    Come in here, Worm, called J-Bone, Get ye a drink of this good whiskey.
    Hazelwood entered smiling and took the bottle. He tilted it and sniffed and gave it back.
    The last time I drank some of that shit I like to died. I stunk from