Jim the Boy Read Online Free Page B

might be somebody’s birthday today. You hear anything about that?”
    “I don’t know,” Jim said. “What did you hear?”
    “I heard that a certain boy might have turned ten years old today.”
    “I guess it’s me,” Jim said, as if confessing to a crime.
    “It’s you?”
    “Yep.”
    “You don’t say. Ten years old. You get any presents yet?”
    “Nope.”
    “You mean your mama and the uncles didn’t get you anything for your birthday?”
    Jim had not considered the possibility before. If the uncles had gotten him something, they might not give it to him now. And if his mother had a present for him, why hadn’t she given it to him at breakfast?
    “I guess not,” Jim said. The fog in his belly climbed his backbone toward his neck.
    “That’s terrible,” Whitey said. “To have a birthday, to turn ten years old, which is pretty old, and not get one present. Don’t you think that’s about the most terrible thing you ever heard?”
    Jim nodded. He didn’t want to cry in front of Whitey, but thought he might have to.
    “Well,” said Whitey, “we’re going to have to do something about that. Hang on a minute.”
    He stopped in the middle of the street. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out half a plug of tobacco.
    “You chew?” he said.
    “Nope,” said Jim.
    “Hmm,” said Whitey. He reached into one of his coat pockets and pulled out a small pad. “You got any use for a receipt book?”
    Jim shook his head.
    “Didn’t think so,” Whitey said.
    He reached into his other coat pocket and rummaged around. When he removed his hand it contained a new baseball. “How about this?” he said. “Can you use a baseball?”
    Jim gasped. “That’s for me?” he said.
    “If you can use it,” said Whitey.
    “I can use it!” Jim said. “I can use it! I can use it!”
    “Good,” Whitey said. “I’m tired of carrying it around. It made my pocket lumpy. I got it for my granny for Christmas, but she didn’t have a bat.”
    He handed the baseball to Jim.
    “Thanks, Whitey!” Jim said.
    He stared at the baseball in his hand as if it were made of gold. His baseball at home was as heavy as a cannonball. He had accidentally left it out in the rain, and was afraid to ask for another one. But this baseball was brand-new. It was shinier than Whitey’s hat. He felt like he could throw it a mile.
    Jim tossed the baseball up into the air. Whitey reached out and caught it before it came down. “You’re sure you can use it?” he said.
    “WHITEY!” Jim yelled.
    “All right,” Whitey said. “Just checking.” He handed the baseball back to Jim, and together they started back down the hill.

Baptism
    W HEN THE uncles came in at midday, Jim didn’t mention the baseball Whitey Whiteside had given him because he had begun to suspect that taking it was wrong. The uncles and Jim’s mother ate without talking much, until late in the meal. Nobody said anything to Jim about what had happened that morning in the field. Jim decided he would hide the baseball in the barn until Whitey Whiteside came back to town. Then he would give it back.
    “Pretty good morning, wasn’t it Allie?” Uncle Zeno said.
    “We got a right smart done, I reckon,” said Uncle Al.
    Uncle Zeno stirred a slice of butter into the apple cobbler Jim’s mother had made for dessert. Jim had noticed already that she hadn’t baked a cake.
    “Seems like you got more done out there than the rest of us,” Uncle Zeno said.
    “I’m not fast,” Uncle Al said. “The rest of y’all are just slow.”
    “There was a time, you know, when I didn’t think you were going to make much of a farmer.”
    Uncle Al turned and stared at Uncle Zeno. He was vain about how he ran the farms. Uncle Coran said that Uncle Al would walk half a mile to pull a morning glory off a fence post.
    “And just when was that?” Uncle Al said.
    “That time you and Coran baptized all those chicks.”
    “Shoot, Zee,” said Uncle Al. “We weren’t but