“Workin’ around here?” the young man asked.
“Aim to,” said Tom. “We jus’ got in las’ night. Ain’t had no chance to look aroun’.”
“We had twelve days’ work,” the young man said.
The girl, working by the stove, said, “They even got new clothes.”
Both men looked down at their stiff blue clothes, and they smiled a little shyly. The girl set out the platter of bacon and the brown, high biscuits and a bowl of bacon gravy and a pot of coffee, and then she squatted down by the box too. The baby still nursed, its head up under the girl’s shirtwaist.
They filled their plates, poured bacon gravy over the biscuits, and sugared their coffee.
The older man filled his mouth full, and he chewed and chewed and gulped and swallowed. “God Almighty, it’s good!” he said, and he filled his mouth again.
The younger man said, “We been eatin’ good for twelve days now. Never missed a meal in twelve days—none of us. Workin’ an’ gettin’ our pay an’ eatin’.” He fell to again, almost frantically, and refilled his plate. They drank the scalding coffee and threw the grounds to the earth and filled their cups again.
There was color in the light now, a reddish gleam. The father and son stopped eating. They were facing to the east and their faces were lighted by the dawn. The image of the mountain and the light coming over it were reflected in their eyes. And then they threw the grounds from their cups to the earth, and they stood up together.
“Got to git goin’,” the older man said.