The Persian Pickle Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

throat. As poor as they were, they had offered to share their charity basket with us.
    “Why, thanks just the same. We already finished ours,” I said, reaching into the basket for the sack of cookies and holding it out. “Your little boy might like one of these hermits. The nuts came from the very trees we’re standing under. You go right ahead and help yourselves.”
    The woman nodded her thanks and passed a cookie to the man, then to the little boy. “You say ‘ ‘Bliged,’ “ she told him, and he muttered something, his mouth full of cookie.
    “Where do you folks come from?” I asked.
    “Missouri,” he replied. “We been on the road two months. We took a wrong turn and ended up in Oklahoma. There sure ain’t nothing there. We’re headed for California is what we are, but we ain’t got the money for gas, so we figured we’d give Kansas a try. We’ll move on toward California when we get a little money in our pocket. We’re looking for work.”
    “Any luck?” Grover asked.
    “Plenty of luck. Luck, jes’ like a grasshopper in a chicken house’s got luck,” the woman said. “The car give out right here—two days ago. Blue says let ‘er sit. I says we ain’t got the choice. We cain’t move till he gets a part.”
    The man nodded. “Blue’s my name. Joe Blue Massie, but folks call me Blue. That’s Zepha. This here’s Sonny.” Sonny scowled at the buttermilk in his mother’s cup but took a drink, anyway. He didn’t look up when his father introduced him. “Baby, she’s in the tent.”
    “Blue says the part’s going to cost us. We’d like to move along. We don’t mean to camp out on private property. We got respect for what belongs to other folks. The fact is, we just cain’t move till we get that part. You tell them what part, Blue.”
    “Water pump.”
    “That’s a problem all right,” Grover said. “Do you have the money for it?”
    I wanted to kick Grover for being such a dope. Of course they didn’t have the money.
    Blue sized up Grover for a minute, maybe wondering if Grover was thinking of robbing him. “Bit. I’d be ‘bliged to find work. I work hard.”
    “Most people’d like to find work, but there’s none around here that I know of,” Grover said. “You can see how the crops are burning up. That creek there, it ought to be up to the bank. If this was a good year, those rocks in the stream you’re drying your clothes on would be underwater, but it’s not a good year. We haven’t had a good year in a long time. I’m not hiring, myself, and I don’t know anybody who is. If they did, they’d give the work to local boys first.”
    Blue nodded, expecting that answer.
    “I sew right smart,” Zepha said, looking at me hopefully.
    “I wish I had a need for it,” I told her. “There’s a widow lady here, a friend of mine, who does sewing: She needs all the work she can get.”
    None of us could think of anything else to say, so we all watched the boy cleaning out the cup with his tongue. “He sure does take to that buttermilk,” Zepha said.
    “You send him up to the house after milking tonight. We’ll give him some fresh milk. Your baby might like it,” I said.
    Zepha was so grateful, she couldn’t even reply, just looked down at her toes. So I glanced over at Grover and nodded. He knew what I meant and said, “You folks are welcome to stay here for a few days, until you get that part for your car. The fact is, I know a little about engines and could take a look at it for you. Maybe I’ve got something on hand that will do. I can’t see any sense in paying good money for a part if you got it on hand.”
    Blue and Zepha looked tickled, and Blue wiped his hand on his overalls and shook Grover’s hand. “By dogies, that’s real nice. We won’t be a bit of trouble, will we, Zeph? We’ll be careful with the fire, too. We won’t hurt your land none, Mr. Bean.”
    Zepha added, “No need for you’ns to trouble yourself about the car. Blue’s real