don’t answer him.
“Honey?” he says.
Mama must be gone back to sleep, because she don’t answer him.
“Honey?” Daddy says.
“Don’t touch me,” Mama says.
“Honey,” Daddy says. Then he starts crying. “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Daddy cries a good little while, and then he stops. I don’t chew on my candy while Daddy’s crying, but when he stops, I chew on another piece.
“Go to sleep, Sonny,” he says.
“I want eat my candy,” I say.
“Hurry then. You got to go to school tomorrow.” I put another piece in my mouth and chew on it. “Honey?” I hear Daddy saying. “Honey, you go’n wake me up to go to work?”
“I do hope you stop bothering me,” Mama says. “Wake me up round four thirty, hear, honey?” Daddy says. “I can cut ’bout six tons tomorrow. Maybe seven.”
Mama don’t say nothing to Daddy, and I feel sleepy again. I finish chewing my last piece of candy and I turn on my side. I feel good because the bed is warm. But I still got my socks on.
“Daddy?” I call.
“Go to sleep,” Daddy says.
“My socks still on,” I say.
“Let them stay on tonight,” Daddy says. “Go to sleep.”
“My feet don’t feel good in socks,” I say.
“Please go to sleep, Sonny,” Daddy says. “I got to get up at four thirty, and it’s hitting close to two now.”
I don’t say nothing, but I don’t like to sleep with my socks on. But I stay quiet. Daddy and Mama don’t say nothing, either, and little bit later I hear Daddy snoring. I feel drowsy myself.
I run around the house in the mud because it done rained, and I feel the mud between my toes. The mud is soft and I like to play in it. I try to get out the mud, but I can’t get out. I’m not stuck in the mud, but I can’t get out. Lucy can’t come over and play in the mud because her mama don’t want her to catch cold.... Billy Joe Martin shows me his dime and puts it back in his pocket. Mama bought me a pretty little red coat and I show it to Lucy. But I don’t let Billy Joe Martin put his hand on it. Lucy can touch it all she wants, but I don’t let Billy Joe Martin put his hand on it.... Me and Lucy get on the horse and ride up and down the road. The horse runs fast, and me and Lucy bounce on the horse and laugh.... Mama and Daddy and Uncle Al and Gran’mon’s sitting by the fire talking. I’m outside shooting marbles, but I hear them. I don’t know what they talking about, but I hear them. I hear them. I hear them. I hear them.
I don’t want wake up, but I’m waking up. Mama and Daddy’s talking. I want go back to sleep, but they talking too loud. I feel my foot in the sock. I don’t like socks on when I’m in the bed. I want go back to sleep, but I can’t. Mama and Daddy talking too much.
“Honey, you let me oversleep,” Daddy says. “Look here, it’s going on seven o’clock.”
“You ought to been thought about that last night.” Mama says.
“Honey, please,” Daddy says. “Don’t start a fuss right off this morning.”
“Then don’t open your mouth,” Mama says.
“Honey, the car broke down,” Daddy says. “What I was suppose to do, it broke down on me. I just couldn’t walk away and not try to fix it.”
Mama’s quiet.
“Honey,” Daddy says, “don’t be mad with me. Come, give your man a good little kiss so he can get out of here.”
“Go kiss your car,” Mama says.
“Kiss my car?” Daddy says. “That cold car? Honey, you don’t mean that.”
“I mean just that,” she says.
“Honey, I been kissing you every morning since us been married,” Daddy says. “I kiss you and you kiss me—and that’s how I been making it in that world out there. How I’m go’n stop it now?”
“That’s up to you,” Mama says.
“Honey,” Daddy says. “This is Eddie your husband. The one you married. Remember?”
“You married to that car,” Mama says. “Go kiss her. I’m sure she waiting. I ain’t.”
“Honey,” Daddy says, “suppose Sonny hear you talking like that? Didn’t that preacher say we had to set a good sample for him?”
“Then how come you don’t set a good sample for him?” Mama says. “How come you don’t come home sometime and set a good sample for him? How come you can’t leave that car alone long enough to set a good sample for him? You the one need to set a good sample. You the one. I do my best.”
“Honey, I told you before the car broke down on me,” Daddy says. “I was coming home when it broke down. I even had to leave it out on the road. I made it here quick as I could.”
“You can go back quick as you can, for all I care,” Mama says.
“Honey, you don’t mean that,” Daddy says. “I know you don’t mean that. You just saying that because you mad.”
“Just don’t touch me,” Mama says.
“Honey, I got to get out and make some bread for us,” Daddy says.
“Get out if you want,” Mama says. “They got a jailhouse for them who don’t support their family.”
“Honey, please don’t talk about a jail,” Daddy says. “It’s too cold. You don’t know how cold it is in a jailhouse this time of the year.”
Mama’s quiet.
“Honey?” Daddy says.
“I hope you let me go back to sleep,” Mama says. “Please.”
“Honey, don’t go back to sleep on me,” Daddy says. “Honey—”
“I’m getting up,” Mama says. “Damn all this.”
I hear the springs mash down on the bed boards. My head’s under the cover, but I can just see Mama pushing the cover down the bed. Then I hear her walking across the floor and going back in the kitchen.
“Oh, Lord,” Daddy says. “Oh, Lord. The suffering a man got to go through in this world. Sonny?” he says.
“Don’t wake that baby up,” Mama says, from the door.
“I got to have somebody to talk to,” Daddy says. “Sonny?”
“I told you not to wake him
