The afternoon passed. Ruthie tried to go away. “I’m tar’d,” she whined. “I got to rest.”
“You got to stay right where you’re at,” said Pa. Uncle John picked slowly. He filled one bucket to two of Tom’s.
His pace didn’t change. In mid-afternoon Ma came trudging out. “I would a come before, but Rosasharn fainted,” she said. “Jes’ fainted away.”
“You been eatin’ peaches,” she said to the children. “Well, they’ll blast you out.” Ma’s stubby body moved quickly. She abandoned her bucket quickly and picked into her apron. When the sun went down they had picked twenty boxes.
Tom set the twentieth box down. “A buck,” he said. “How long do we work?”
“Work till dark, long as you can see.”
“Well, can we get credit now? Ma oughta go in an’ buy some stuff to eat.”
“Sure. I’ll give you a slip for a dollar now.” He wrote on a strip of paper and handed it to Tom. He took it to Ma. “Here you are. You can get a dollar’s worth of stuff at the store.” Ma put down her bucket and straightened her shoulders. “Gets you, the first time, don’t it?”
“Sure. We’ll all get used to it right off. Roll on in an’ get some food.” Ma said, “What’ll you like to eat?”
“Meat,” said Tom. “Meat an’ bread an’ a big pot a coffee with sugar in. Great big pieces a meat.” Ruthie wailed, “Ma, we’re tar’d.”