Tulsa Burning Read Online Free Page A

would think the key
     fell out, or maybe he had even forgot that he left it in. Even though it was freezing cold, I took off my worn-out coat and
     wrapped it around the phone. I knowed if the phone man saw me with the bundle, he'd figure right off what it was. The coat,
     though, would keep other folks from knowing.
    First, I stored my gum key on a rock. Then I run back into town. When I got to the street where the truck was parked, I leaned
     around the corner of a building to look. The truck was still there. I didn't run, just walked along, natural, with my bundle
     under my arm.
    I only passed one woman on the sidewalk. She didn't pay me no mind, just hurried by with her head down. No one else seemed
     to be around. I moved toward the truck. I had just replaced the phone when someone yelled, "Hey!"
    I jumped. The telephone man was coming off the sidewalk toward me. "What are you doing, kid?" he demanded.
    Had he seen me with the phone? My heart was pounding, and I thought maybe my mouth was too dry to talk, but I got something
     out. "I was just looking at this here truck," I said. "Are you the fellow that gets to drive it? That sure must be a grand
     job." I reached out and sort of stroked the truck, amazed at what a good liar I could be.
    He laughed. "I am," he said, "but it ain't as much fun as you make it sound." He got in then and drove away, leaving me there
     too weak to move on.
    Five times last winter I used them keys. I figured it wouldn't be smart to take all the money. The phone company man was bound
     to get suspicious if there wasn't no money a'tall in the box when he come to collect. Besides, I was always hoping I wouldn't
     need to use the keys to keep me and Ma from starving again.
    "Where'd you get the money for all this?" Ma asked me when I brought the groceries home that first time.
    I let on like I didn't hear her, just kept setting food from the box onto the table. I had hitched the horses to the wagon,
     and without telling Ma where, I drove into town to buy the meat, potatoes, cans of corn, peas, carrots, and green beans. "I
     was thinking maybe you could make some stew," I said. "Stew tastes real good when it's cold as blazes outside."
    Ma took the package of meat and stroked the white paper covering it. Then she untied the string, took off the paper, and held
     the meat up in front of her to admire. "Stew sure does sound good," she said, and she moved to take down the big kettle that
     hung over the wood stove. But she stopped still, holding the kettle above her head. "Son, I want to know how you come up with
     the money for these goods!"
    I just shrugged. "What difference does it make how I done it. It's done, and I don't see as how I got to talk about it." Ma's
     face looked all hurt and fearful, and I softened. "Well," I said, "don't make me talk about it now, Ma. I'll tell you sometime."
    It wasn't no easy thing, facing Ma after I had stolen money, but it was even harder going to Mrs. Mitchell's place. I had
     to take her milk, though. I waited till after I had my stomach full of Ma's stew. The wind had died down, but it was still
     plenty cold. I didn't hitch up the horses, though. Somehow, I thought that it was right, me walking in the cold. I reckon
     I was hoping somehow that it would make me feel better, sort of like I was paying for the stealing by being cold.
    I tried whistling to sort of keep my mind off things, but when I got close to Mrs. Mitchell's house, I couldn't keep the whistling
     up. I took to hoping she wouldn't be home. If she was gone, I could go inside and leave the milk. She could pay me the twenty
     cents later. She was there, though. I could see a lantern's light, and the automobile Isaac had bought her a few months before
     was parked near the door.
    "I'm coming," she called as soon as I knocked. "Oh, Noble," she said when she opened the door, "come right in out of the cold.
     You are such a good boy, bringing my milk through the cold night. You could have waited