Ma sighed. “Give me two pounds hamburg.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He scooped the pale meat on a piece of waxed paper.
“An’ what else?”
“Well, some bread.”
“Right here. Fine big loaf, fifteen cents.”
“That there’s a twelve-cent loaf.”
“Sure, it is. Go right in town an’ get her for twelve cents.
Gallon a gas. What else can I sell you, potatoes?”
“Yes, potatoes.”
“Five pounds for a quarter.” Ma moved menacingly toward him. “I heard enough from you. I know what they cost in town.” The little man clamped his mouth tight. “Then go git ’em in town.” Ma looked at her knuckles. “What is this?” she asked softly. “You own this here store?”