GodPretty in the Tobacco Field Read Online Free Page A

know the Newtons ain’t gonna work the field beside me . . . not many folks in eastern Kentucky would, I imagine. Hell, Jenks showed up last week and hightailed it back out of the rows when he saw me.”
    He was right. Not many would, and most said they’d load muck in the coal mines before working alongside a field nigger.
    â€œWhat about Mr. Thomas and his son?” Rainey asked.
    â€œThey might pitch in.” I studied. “They told me last month they’re not taking a draw and said they’d come by as soon as it’s housing time.”
    When I first came to live with Gunnar, he’d kept me inside and busy with housework—and only taking care of the big house, refusing to let me work in the fields, unless I was being punished. But after President Johnson came to Kentucky and declared his War on Poverty, Gunnar couldn’t get men to work the rows. He swore he’d lost money when he had to reduce his crop. And when my punishments started adding up, he gave me a full-time hoe to go along with my dust cloth, sassy mouth, and sins.
    Him being a former government man and all and having experience as a hardworking state executioner employee, I reckoned that was his way of working the devils out of me and getting free help at the same time.
    Rainey said, “Hope so. Seems everyone around Nameless is thinking up easy ways of doing jobs other than work . Even Statler’s saying his cow has to be babysat seven hours a day or else she won’t milk.”
    â€œStatler clan is always claiming something, mostly pickpocketing good folks’ hearts for whatever they can get.”
    â€œDamn government sure ’nuff gave him the draw.”
    Gunnar clanged the bell again.
    â€œSound like ol’ Gunnar,” I mused. “Go home, Rainey, it’ll get done. We’ll make it, we always do.”
    â€œJust a few more minutes, Roo.”
    â€œWell, bye, then, I need to go over and get squash from the garden.”
    â€œHear, now. We don’t have to say good-bye.” Rainey reached for my little pinky with his, tugged. “Thought we agreed never to say that.” He lit a soft smile.
    There was that smile again. More and more it was something I needed at the end of the day to get me through to the next.
    â€œOh,” I laughed, “so tired I nearly forgot.” Because a “good-bye” seemed too sad and forever, and we’d both had our share of that with family, me and Rainey had made a secret pact nearly a decade ago, a childish pinky promise to never say good-bye to each other. Instead, we’d always call out our partings with a pinky squeeze and sweeten it with a “good night.” Morning or night, it was our saying, and the cracked-open door that meant we were always with each other.
    â€œReal glad you’re going to the fair with me and Rose. Good night, Rainey.”
    Rainey grinned. “Good night, Roo.” He squeezed our pinkies together, holding on a bit longer than usual.
    I pressed back. “Don’t stay too long now.”
    He went back to hoeing. I watched him a second, wondering why everything felt so confusing around him lately. Mostly I’d forgotten the silly childhood promises, but recently, I couldn’t stop thinking about them or him . . . and what his grown-up kisses were like. I couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking of mine....
    Rainey glimpsed over his shoulder. “Need something else, Roo?”
    Red-faced, I mumbled good night again and hurried across the field to the garden. I grabbed two squash and headed to the house. Stopping at the pump, I washed up, then stepped over to the clothesline to pluck off linens, stuffing them into a basket.
    I toted the basket up to the porch and set it down, surprised to hear a woman’s voice inside. I slipped inside and ran upstairs to my bedroom. Below, Gunnar called for me.
    Hurrying, I stripped off the old shirt of Gunnar’s that I