Shoeshine Girl Read Online Free Page B

but I guess he doesn’t want you to have it, either.”
    â€œMaybe he changed his mind,” she said. “Maybe he wants to work for you now.”
    â€œMaybe,” said Al. “I’ll have a talk with him. I don’t think you’ll see him any more.”
    But later in the week she did see him. He was across the street, watching her.

The Medal
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    Every evening, after work, Sarah Ida was tired. But every morning she was ready to go back to Shoeshine Corner. It wasn’t that she liked shining shoes, but things happened at the shoeshine stand. Every customer was different. Every day she found out something new.
    Some things she learned by herself. Like how much polish to use on a shoe. A thin coat gave a better and quicker shine. Some things Al told her. “When a customer comes here, he gets more than a shine,” he said. “He gets to rest in a chair. When you rub with the cloth, it feels good on his feet. When you tie his shoelaces a little tighter, it makes his shoes fit better. My customers go away feeling a little better. Anyway, I hope they do.”
    One warm, cloudy afternoon, he said, “We might as well close up.”
    â€œWhy?” she asked. “It’s only three o’clock.”
    â€œIt’s going to rain. Nobody gets a shine on a rainy day.”
    He began to put away the brushes and shoe polish. She helped him.
    â€œMaybe you can run home before the rain,” he said. A few big drops splashed on the sidewalk. “No. Too late now.”
    They sat under the little roof, out of the rain.
    â€œHear that sound?” he said. “Every time I hear rain on a tin roof, I get to thinking about when I was a boy. We lived in an old truck with a tin roof over the back.”
    â€œYou lived in a truck?”
    â€œMost of the time. We slept under the tin roof, and when it rained, the sound put me to sleep. We went all over the South in that truck.”
    â€œYou and your mother and father?”
    â€œMy dad and I.”
    â€œWhat were you doing, driving all over the South?”
    â€œMy dad sold medicine.”
    â€œWhat kind?”
    â€œSomething to make you strong and keep you from getting sick.”
    â€œDid you take it?”
    â€œNo. I guess it wasn’t any good.”
    She had never heard him talk much about himself before. She wanted him to go on.
    â€œWas it fun living in a truck?”
    â€œFun? I wouldn’t say so. Riding along was all right. Sometimes my dad and I stopped close to the woods, and that was all right, too. But I never liked it when we were in town selling medicine. Dad would play the mouth harp, and he made me sing. He wanted me to dance a jig, too, but I never could.”
    She tried to imagine Al as a little boy. She couldn’t at all. “Why did he want you to sing and dance?” she asked.
    â€œTo draw a crowd. When there was a crowd, he sold medicine. We didn’t stay anywhere very long. Except once. We stayed in one place six months. My dad did farm work, and I went to school.”
    He told her about the school. It was just outside a town. The teacher was Miss Miller. The schoolhouse had only one room.
    â€œThere was this big stove,” he said, “and that winter I kept the fire going. Miss Miller never had to carry coal when I was there.”
    â€œDid you like her?” asked Sarah Ida. “Was she a good teacher?”
    â€œBest teacher I ever had. Of course, she was just about the only one. I hadn’t been to school much, but she took time to show me things. Do teachers still give medals in school?”
    â€œSometimes. Not very often.”
    â€œMiss Miller gave medals. They were all alike. Every one had a star on it. At the end of school you got one if you were the best in reading or spelling or writing or whatever it was. Everybody wanted a medal, but I knew I’d never get one because I wasn’t the best in anything. And at the end of school,