OCR Text |
Show •218 can't help but be happy there." We decided to divide everything into three piles: one to go on the bus to California, one to give away, the last to be packed into a wooden box and shipped to Fancy's mother in West Virginia. All the next day while Fancy was at work I divided, stacked, packed, nailed up the crate-all in a holiday mood. I-held up my old shirts to the light to see how many holes they had and whether I should bring them with us or throw them away. In the early afternoon I had a visit from Hubert. He lay down in my hammock with his hands crossed over his belly; fleeting ripples of color ran over his suit-coat as he swayed gently through a sunbeam. I said California and he made a disdainful pucker with his lips. "You don't approve?" I said. "What's to approve? Some people have what it takes to make it in the big city and some don't, am I right?" "Screw you, Hubert." "Don't be offended; i t ' s only the truth. Anyhow if you want to give i t one l a s t try, I do have a l i t t l e deal," "Mexican copper?" "No, no. That's a l l over. It was s t r i c t l y small-time." He swung himself up to a s i t t i n g position, "I've found something much bigger. The biggest." "What?" |