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Show 174 "Ah, come on, kid, don't go gettin' soft on me. We got a good thing goin' here. Them pig-Irish broads are too stupid to know when they're bein' bamboozled...." Sam choked on his next words because Karl had slammed him against a high brick wall. Enraged, Karl shouted, "My mother came from Ireland. She worked as a maid for six years. Worked hard! My father works hard too. They don't go around lying and cheating people to get handouts." It was the longest string of words Karl had spoken since he left Canaan, and it felt good to get them out, as though in letting them explode from his mouth, he'd opened the way for his feelings to start surfacing again. He released Sam, crying, "What am I doing here?" The question was to himself, not Sam. "I've got a good home waiting for me. I'd be crazy to keep on doing this." He rolled up his old overcoat and stalked down Jefferson Street, with Sam scurrying after him. "Where are you going?" Sam cried. "Take off that new coat and put your old one back on. Listen, if I get...uh...ten bucks for that overcoat, I'll give you a whole dollar. You can even keep the Homburg hat." Karl didn't bother to answer. Wabash Sam, who was running to keep up because his legs were much shorter than Karl's, kept plucking Karl's sleeve from behind. "Come on, kid, give me the coat. It belongs to me. I thought up this whole scheme. Give me the coat!" "No!" Karl whirled so quickly that Sam ran into him. "I've been shaming myself for you for a whole week, and you never gave me |
