Belle Prater's Boy Read Online Free

thought. They were bound to find out. Might as well get it over with.
    â€œThis here’s Belle Prater’s boy,” I said.
    â€œIs that a fact?” Clint said, his eyes as big as silver dollars. “Belle Prater’s boy, huh? What’s your name, boy?”
    â€œWoodrow.”
    â€œWoodrow, huh? Yeah, that’s right. I recall reading that in the Mountain Echo . Her boy, Woodrow, it said, was asleep when she disappeared. So that was you?”
    Woodrow didn’t answer and I didn’t blame him. It was a dern fool question. Nobody else said anything. They just crossed their arms and legs and leaned back and stared. Clarence Sparks aimed a big splat of tobacco juice into a tin can, then continued staring with the others.
    Finally Esau Ward said, “You heard anything from your mama, boy?”
    â€œNow, Esau!” I said, more than a little aggravated.
“You know doggone good and well if there was any news about Aunt Belle, it would be all over the county. You wouldn’t have to ask.”
    â€œThat’s the truth,” Clint said, laughing; then he went back to his haircutting.
    The atmosphere in the room lightened up some, and after a while a hushed conversation started again.
    â€œOkay, Woodrow, your turn,” Clint said as he took fifty cents from Jake.
    â€œBut they were here first,” Woodrow said politely, motioning to the others in the room.
    â€œOh, them!” Clint said, laughing again. “They don’t want no haircuts. They’re just chewing the fat.”
    Woodrow took his place in the barber chair.
    â€œFolks always come to my place to socialize,” Clint went on, like he was bragging. “Why, I remember Gypsy’s daddy, Amos Leemaster, used to drop by just to talk sometimes. And he’d bring Gypsy with him. You remember that, Gypsy?”
    I nodded.
    â€œI reckon Amos took Gypsy with him nearabout every place he went, didn’t he, Gypsy?”
    I nodded again.
    â€œYou never saw one without the other,” Clint went on, determined to wear the subject out. “I never saw a man who loved his young’un more. He was the finest and handsomest man I ever seed. It was a pity what happened to him …”

    â€œDon’t cut too much!” Woodrow interrupted Clint suddenly, for which I was grateful.
    â€œWell, I ain’t even started yet,” Clint said. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll get your money’s worth and no more. That’s what I always tell people. You’ll get your money’s worth and not a lick more.”
    Raymond Muncy came in and took a chair by Esau and Clarence.
    â€œHidy, Raymond,” Esau said; then he leaned over and whispered something.
    They both looked at Woodrow.
    â€œBelle Prater’s boy, no foolin’? Cross-eyed, ain’t he?” Raymond said.
    â€œWas Belle cross-eyed?” Clarence asked.
    â€œOh no,” Raymond said. “I went to school with Belle and she wadn’t no beauty like Love, but she wadn’t cross-eyed either.”
    I had had about enough of this.
    â€œHey, Raymond,” I said as loud and nasal as I could manage, the way I had heard some of the holler women talk. “How’s your girl Flo? I heard she fell off the running board and caught her foot under the wheel.”
    â€œYou heard right, Gypsy,” Raymond said. “But she’s mending. She’ll be back in school on Monday.”
    â€œGlad to hear it, Raymond. Flo’s as good a girl as you’ll find—right smart, too.”
    â€œâ€™Zat so?” Raymond said, and seemed to puff up.
“Well, sometimes I think she’s the smartest one of my seven, even if she is a girl.”
    I thought I was the only one in the room who detected that disguised insult to the whole female gender, but no, there was Woodrow peeping around the side of his glasses at me. He never missed a thing. And it occurred to me that Woodrow would never