Ma said, in a sharp matter-of-fact tone, “I don’ see why him savin’ Tom got to get you drunk.”
John said sadly, “Can’t say her. I feel awful. He done her so easy. Jus’ stepped up there an’ says, ’I done her.’ An’ they took ’im away. An’ I’m a-gonna get drunk.”
Pa still nodded his head. “I don’t see why you got to tell,” he said. “If it was me, I’d jus’ go off an’ get drunk if I had to.”
“Come a time when I could a did somepin an’ took the big sin off my soul,” Uncle John said sadly. “An’ I slipped up. I didn’ jump on her, an’—an’ she got away. Lookie!” he said, “You got the money. Gimme two dollars.”
Pa reached reluctantly into his pocket and brought out the leather pouch. “You ain’t gonna need no seven dollars to get drunk. You don’t need to drink champagny water.”
Uncle John held out his bill. “You take this here an’ gimme two dollars. I can get good an’ drunk for two dollars. I don’ want no sin of waste on me. I’ll spend whatever I got. Always do.”
Pa took the dirty bill and gave Uncle John two silver dollars. “There ya are,” he said. “A fella got to do what he got to do. Nobody don’ know enough to tell ’im.”
Uncle John took the coins. “You ain’t gonna be mad? You know I got to?”
“Christ, yes,” said Pa. “You know what you got to do.”
“I wouldn’ be able to get through this night no other way,” he said. He turned to Ma. “You ain’t gonna hold her over me?”