The diamond bikini - By Charles Williams Page 0,41
of his overalls, and it was all sweaty when he walked up to the car and got in the front seat with Pop.
Pop started the car. “That mule all right?” he asks.
“Mule?” Uncle Sagamore asked. “Oh. Sure. Looks in pretty good shape. He was just sulkin’, I reckon.”
“That was likely it,” Pop says.
“Mules is a lot like women,” Uncle Sagamore went on. “They get to thinkin’ about some triflin’ thing that happened ten, fifteen years ago, an’ then they brood about it for a while and go into a sull an’ won’t have nothin’ to do with you for weeks. An’ the hell of it is you ain’t got no idea what they’re poutin’ about.”
“I reckon that’s right,” Pop says. He eased the car up the hill, taking it slow and easy across the bumps. Uncle Sagamore got out and opened the wire gate. We went through and he got back in. We started up the sandy road through the pines. Just before we got to the top of the hill the car stalled. It just stopped right in its tracks.
“Well,” Pop says. “Why you reckon it did that?”
“Sure is funny.” Uncle Sagamore says. “Mebbe you better try the starter.”
Pop ground on the starter, but nothing happened. He pulled out the choke and ground some more. It didn’t start.
I looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Pop,” I says. “I see the trouble. Looks like the key ain’t turned all the way on.”
“Of course it’s turned on,” Pop says.
“But, look—”
“Damn it,” Pop barks at me. “I tell you the key is all right.” He went on grinding on the starter, with the choke pulled all the way out.
“But, Pop—”
“Will you hush about that key?” he snaps at me. “Look—” He took hold of the key, and sure enough it did turn a little. It hadn’t been quite all the way on, just like I told him.
“Well, I’ll be dad-burned,” he says.
“Well sir, the fool thing,” Uncle Sagamore says. “Who would of thought that?”
Pop pushed on the starter again, “Well, we’ll go now.” The engine turned over, but nothing happened. It wouldn’t start.
“I think you got it flooded,” I says.
“Something’s sure wrong,” Pop got out. Then Uncle Sagamore opened his door and got out too. Pop raised up the hood, and they stood looking at the motor.
“Reckon there could be something wrong amongst all them wires?” Uncle Sagamore asked. “Such a passel of ‘em in there, man wouldn’t never know if they was hooked up right.”
I didn’t bother to get out. You could see what was wrong. He’d been turning the motor over all that time with the switch of the choke pulled out, and he’d flooded her. As soon as it set for a few minutes it’d be all right. Funny Pop couldn’t figure that out; he knew a right smart about motors as a rule. But it was all right with me. It was nice there, all sunshiny and warm, with the little breeze whispering through the tops of the pines. I just sat there with my feet on the bag of dirty clothes and wondered if we’d get back in time so I could go swimming with Miss Harrington. I sure hoped so.
Just then there was the sound of another car coming up the road behind us, coming real fast like whoever it was was in a big hurry. They threw on the brakes and slid to a stop in the ruts right behind us. I got out to see who it was. And doggone if it wasn’t Booger and Otis in the sheriff car.
They got out, one on each side. They had on their white hats, pushed back on their heads kind of free-and-easy like, and their gun-belts, with the bone handled guns hanging down on their right leg. They both had on a little short khaki jacket and a black tie, and they looked real spruce. There was a kind of grin on their faces, like they’d both thought of the same joke at the same time. Booger’s gold tooth just shined.
Uncle Sagamore straightened up and looked at them, and then he grinned kind of sheepish. “Well sir, by golly,” he says, “if it ain’t the shurf’s boys, Sam. You recollect Booger and Otis, don’t you?”
Pop looked at Uncle Sagamore, and Uncle Sagamore looked at Pop, both of ‘em like they was uneasy about something and trying not to let on. Then Pop swallowed like he had something stuck in his throat and said, “Why, sure I do.