“Oh, maybe a month,” he said.
THE EVENING DARK came down and Pa and Uncle John squatted with the heads of families out by the office. They studied the night and the future. The little manager, in his white clothes, frayed and clean, rested his elbows on the porch rail. His face was drawn and tired. Huston looked up at him. “You better get some sleep, mister.”
“I guess I ought. Baby born last night in Unit Three. I’m getting to be a good midwife.”
“Fella oughta know,” said Huston. “Married fella got to know.”
Pa said, “We’re a-gittin’ out in the mornin’.”
“Yeah? Which way you goin’?”
“Thought we’d go up north a while. Try to get in the first cotton.
We ain’t had work. We’re outa food.”
“Know if they’s any work?” Huston asked.
“No, but we’re sure they ain’t none here.”