“Gee, kid, but you’re lucky! You never knew you had a soul at all! You sure missed a lot of trouble!” There was a pause, and then Paul added: “I had a hard time runnin’ away, and I ’spose I’ll go back in the end—it’s tough to think of your brothers and sisters starvin’ to death, and I don’t see what else can happen to ’em.”
“How many are there?”
“There’s four, besides me; and they’re all younger’n me.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m sixteen. The next is Eli, he’s fifteen; and the Holy Spirit has blessed him—he has the shivers, and they last all day sometimes. He sees the angels, comin’ down in clouds of glory; and he healed old Mrs. Bugner, that had complications, by the layin’ on of his hands. Pap says the Lord plans great blessings through him. Then there’s Ruth, she’s thirteen, and she had visions too, but she’s beginnin’ to think like I do; we have sensible talks—you know how it is, you can sometimes talk to people that’s your own age, things you can’t ever say to grown-ups.”
“Yes, I know,” said Bunny. “They think you don’t understand anything. They’ll talk right in front of you, and what do they think is the matter with your brains? It makes me tired.”
“Ruth is what makes it hard for me to stay away,” continued the other. “She said for me to go, but gee, what’ll they all do? They can’t do hard work like I can. And don’t you think I’d run away from hard work; it’s only that I want to get somewhere, else what’s the use of it? There ain’t any chance for us. Pap hitches up the wagon and drives us all to Paradise, where the Pentecostal Mission is, and there they all roll and babble all day Sunday, most, and the Spirit commands them to pledge all the money they’ve got to convert the heathen—you see, we’ve got missions in England and France and Germany and them godless nations, and Pap’ll promise more than he’s got, and then he’s got to give it, ’cause it don’t belong to him no more, it’s the Holy Spirit’s, see. That’s why I quit.”
There was silence for a space; then Paul asked: “What’s that big crowd of folks in there for?”
“That’s the oil lease; didn’t you know about the oil?”
“Yes, we heard about the strike. We’re supposed to have oil on our ranch—at least, my Uncle Eby used to say he’d come onto signs of it; but he’s dead, and I never seen ’em, and I never expected no luck for our family. But they say Aunt Allie here is a-goin’ to be rich.”