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Chapter 20
Iseenallthatstuff.»
Achildcriedinthetentbesidethecar.Theyoungmanwentintothetentandhisvoicecamesoftlythroughthecanvas.Tompickedupthebrace,fitteditintheslotofthevalve,andgroundaway,hishandwhippingbackandforth.Thechild’scryingstopped.TheyoungmancameoutandwatchedTom.«Youcandoher,"hesaid.«Damngoodthing.You’llneedto.»
«How’boutwhatIsaid?»Tomresumed.«Iseenallthestuffgrowin’.»
Theyoungmansquattedonhisheels.«I’lltellya,"hesaidquietly.«They’sabigson-of-a-bitchofapeachorchardIworkedin.Takesninemenalltheyearroun’.»Hepausedimpressively.«Takesthreethousan’menfortwoweekswhenthempeachesisripe.Gottohave’emorthempeaches’llrot.Sowhatdotheydo?Theysendouthan’billsalloverhell.Theyneedthreethousan’,an’theygetsixthousan’.Theygetthemmenforwhattheywantapay.Ifyadon’twantatakewhattheypay,goddamnit,they’sathousan’menwaitin’foryourjob.Soyapick,an’yapick,an’thenshe’sdone.Wholepartathecountry’speaches.Allripetogether.Whenyaget’empicked,ever’goddamnoneispicked.Thereain’tanotherdamnthinginthatpartathecountrytodo.An’themownersdon’wantyoutherenomore.Threethousan’ofyou.Thework’sdone.Youmightsteal,youmightgetdrunk,youmightjus’raisehell.An’besides,youdon’looknice,livin’inol’tents;an’it’saprettycountry,butyoustinkitup.Theydon’wantyouaroun’.
