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Chapter 20
Thefryingpanofpotatoeswashissingandspittingoverthefire.Mamovedthethickslicesaboutwithaspoon.Pasatnearby,hugginghisknees.RoseofSharonwassittingunderthetarpaulin.
«It’sTom!»Macried.«ThankGod.»
«Wegottogetoutahere,"saidTom.
«What’sthematternow?»
«Well,Floydsaysthey’llburnthecamptonight.»
«Whatthehellfor?»Paasked.«Weain’tdonenothin’.»
«Nothin’’ceptbeatupacop,"saidTom.
«Well,weneverdoneit.»
«Fromwhatthatcopsaid,theywantapushusalong.»
RoseofSharondemanded,«YouseenConnie?»
«Yeah,"saidAl.«Waytohellan’goneuptheriver.He’sgoin’south.»
«Was—washegoin’away?»
«Idon’know.»
Maturnedonthegirl.«Rosasharn,youbeentalkin’an’actin’funny.What’dConniesaytoyou?»
RoseofSharonsaidsullenly,«Saiditwouldabeenagoodthingifhestayedhomean’studieduptractors.»
Theywereveryquiet.RoseofSharonlookedatthefireandhereyesglistenedinthefirelight.Thepotatoeshissedsharplyinthefryingpan.Thegirlsniffledandwipedhernosewiththebackofherhand.
Pasaid,«Conniewasn’nogood.Iseenthatalongtime.Didn’havenoguts,jus’toobigforhisoveralls.»
RoseofSharongotupandwentintothetent.Shelaydownonthemattressandrolledoveronherstomachandburiedherheadinhercrossedarms.
«Wouldn’donogoodtocatch’im,Iguess,"Alsaid.Pareplied,«No.Ifheain’tnogood,wedon’wanthim.»
