Tom broke in, “Hey, what is this? We ain’t sure Connie’s gone for good. We got no time for talkin’. We got to eat an’ get on our way.”
“On our way? We jus’ come here.” Ma peered at him through the firelighted darkness.
He explained carefully, “They gonna burn the camp tonight, Ma. Now you know I ain’t got it in me to stan’ by an’ see our stuff burn up, nor Pa ain’t got it in him, nor Uncle John. We’d come up a-fightin’, an’ I jus’ can’t afford to be took in an’ mugged. I nearly got it today, if the preacher hadn’ jumped in.”
Ma had been turning the frying potatoes in the hot grease. Now she took her decision. “Come on!” she cried. “Le’s eat this stuff. We got to go quick.” She set out the tin plates.
Pa said, “How ’bout John?”
“Where is Uncle John?” Tom asked.
Pa and Ma were silent for a moment, and then Pa said, “He went to get drunk.”
“Jesus!” Tom said. “What a time he picked out! Where’d he go?”
“I don’ know,” said Pa.
Tom stood up. “Look,” he said, “you all eat an’ get the stuff loaded. I’ll go look for Uncle John. He’d of went to the store ’crost the road.”