acrost a time or two here an’ yonder. The fact it was painted all over in bright reds an’ greens an’ yellows sort of helped that last impression along.
But then the owner or somebody had added a assortment of special touches what just made a fellow pause and scratch his head.
First, the back wheels was a deal bigger’n you’d expect on a rig like that, real wide at the rims and almost tall as a man was high. It made a kind of sense I reckon, for travelin’ through these Florida swamps and the deep sand hereabouts. But it give the outfit a kind of a funny, lopsided look, like maybe the wagon body had got itself drenched in a rain so it shrunk up between them outsized wheels.
The varnished roof had this fancy trim what stuck out several inches all around, cut with ever manner of twists an’ curlicues like you’d see on some big house in the city. And hangin’ from each loop an’ cranny of that there carvin’ was the mixed-up-est assortment of fryin’ pans, coffee pots, lanterns, kettles, tin plates, cups, bottles and other gew-gaws that anybody ever seen. They rattled an’ crashed and banged together ever time them two black mules took a step, causin’ a big part of the noise I’d been hearin’ for the past half hour without guessin’ what it was.
On either side of the driver’s seat was a couple wood cabinets, and the stuff inside there seemed to be makin’ noise too, along with who knew what-all might be in the wagon proper. And then to top it off, when this rig pulled up alongside me to give the mules a blow from climbin’ that last hill, I seen some other little doors in the body, and this window what appeared to have a mechanical music box behind it. I could make out pipes, drums, chimes, and even a ole steel-stringed banjo through the dusty glass, each part shakin’ and chinkin’ and bangin’ together to beat the band.
I mean anybody would of had to smile. And though I’d turned halfway round to keep the driver from seein’ the grin comin’ acrost my face, I couldn’t help but take just one more little peek back over my shoulder to make sure I’d really seen what I seen.
And that’s when I lost it en-tire.
I was bent over at the waist, a-whoopin’ and a-guffawin’, throwin’ my arms up in the air and slappin’ my knees, till the tears run down my cheeks and my sore ribs clutched up so’s I couldn’t hardly breathe. Afterwards I just hunkered down beside the road for a bit, clutchin’ at my sides and grinnin’ between gasps, while the driver climbed down from his perch and ambled over to have a look at me.
“Something troubling you, friend?” His voice was kind of mild and gentle when he asked the question, but I could tell right off that he weren’t finding near as much amusement in the situation as I was. I sat back on my heels and pushed my hat off my forehead to study him better.
He was kind of a short, heavy-set gent, dressed in what appeared to be a right fine store-bought suit, but with the coat off now and the vest unbuttoned on account of the heat. When he lifted up his black stove-pipe hat to dab at the sweat with a calico kerchief, I could see he was bald was a hen’s egg underneath, and burnt dark by the sun from crown to neck. His eyes was a real pale blue. And the way they had of peerin’ at you from out of that brown creased face was enough to make a feller take kind of serious whatever interest they showed in him.
There weren’t no way I could guess his age. The bald head and crows-feet round the eyes seemed to be tellin’ me one thing, whilst them muscles I could see bulgin’ out from his shirt sleeves, and the way he stood sort of cat-like an’ limber but rock-solid at the same time, was sayin’ something else entire.
After a minute he put his hat back on and shoved the kerchief into his pocket. Then he moved a step closer.
“I asked,” he repeated, even quieter than before, “if there is anything troubling you at the moment.” His eyes narrowed into two thin slits. “Perhaps you find something about myself or my equipment … amusing?”
Well, it weren’t no great feat to catch his meaning. No man cares for bein’ laughed at, and I’d of never done it this time if I’d had a mite of warning. But the whole outlandish she-bang come up on me so sudden, with it just nearly the funniest picture I’d put eyes to in a month of Sundays …
Still it wasn’t nothing I felt inclined to fight over. I’d had me a long tryin’ day already, and this here didn’t seem hardly worth the effort.
Might of been different if I was a couple years younger. Back then I’d fought any man at the drop of a hat. And drop it myself whenever I couldn’t find somebody else to do it. But lately I’d been realizin’ there was plenty enough trouble to go around, without nobody havin’ to put hisself out special lookin’ for more.
So right then it appeared like the smartest thing to do was just eat a little crow, and let bygones be bygones. I give it my best shot, but maybe I hadn’t got enough practice at that eatin’ crow part yet. ’Cause it turned out my best weren’t quite good enough.
I stood up from the ground and tugged at my hat brim, tryin’ real hard to wipe the grin off my face as I did it. Then I said, serious as I could manage, “Now don’t you go gettin’ your feathers all ruffled, mister. I didn’t mean nothin’ disrespectful. It’s only that, well, I’m kind of new to these parts. And I reckon I just ain’t never had no occasion before to see somethin’ like …” I felt the grin creepin’ back, ’spite of all I could do to stop it. “… like that …”
Well, I turned around and reached out a hand to point towards his rig. And first thing you knew I’d took another good look at it and come down with the giggles so hard I couldn’t finish what I was sayin’.
That was all Mr. Top-hat needed to make him shuck his temper for fair. And I suppose maybe I wouldn’t of blamed him much if I’d seed it from his point of view. But what he done next roused up my own dander to where I plumb forgot about his feelin’s, and changed my thoughts about fightin’ too, in pretty near half a toad-frog’s hop.
’Peared like one second I was bent down chucklin’ over that bright-colored rig with its fantastical assortment of kitchen fixin’s, and the next I’d been tripped up an’ throwed sprawling so my chin was plowin’ a furrow for the second time in one day. I rolled over an’ come off the ground fast, meanin’ to tear little Baldy’s meat house down just quick as I could get my fists set to take a sizable swing at him. But he’d already turned and started off the other way, carryin’ my hat in one hand and speakin’ to his lead mule as if he’d plumb forgot I was there.
“Here’s a little something I found to keep the sun out of your eyes, Cassius. It’s not much, but the man who was wearing it looked a lot more foolish than you will in it. And he was more ill-mannered too. Now just wait until I cut a pair of holes for your ears …”
I got a hand on his shoulder whilst he was reachin’ into his wagon for scissors, meanin’ to spin him round and toss him out in the road the way he done me. Only it didn’t work out just exactly like I’d figured.
That li’l bandy-legged gent was slippery as a moccasin and twict as quick. He ducked under my arm and took holt of it with both hands, then twisted round and hiked me over his shoulder faster’n you could say Jack Robinson. I hit the ground with a yelp and a grunt what took ever whisper of air clean out of me.
I was gettin’ awful close to losin’ my temper by this time. Bein’ whupped by big Jube this mornin’, and then by a little bald-headed runt half his size an’ twict his age in the afternoon, weren’t helpin’ my normal cheerful disposition much a-tall.
But I reckon them bumps an’ falls knocked a little sense into my noggin too. ’Cause
