Rae Lynn growled out an answer. “Always been a mite small for my age, but I’m strong as they come.”
The new deep voice she used had an unfortunate crack at the end.
He gave her a doubtful glance and said, “How old are you, kid?”
She said, “Twenty-six.”
“What? You ain’t even got no whiskers. Fine, fine. You say you’re twenty-six, I reckon I’m Methuselah.” Peewee chuckled at his little joke and went on. “What’s the name?”
“Ray Cobb.”
“Family?”
“Sir?”
“Family. You got family?”
She said, “I was married, but . . .”
Peewee had been scribbling, and he stopped.
Rae Lynn was quick to reply. “He . . . I mean, she passed on. Tragic accident.”
“Hmm. Sorry to hear that.”
Rae Lynn cringed at her mistake, but Peewee apparently didn’t notice her misstep. He tapped his fingers in a thoughtful manner.
Finally, he leaned forward and said, “I ain’t looking no woods riders. You come expecting to do that, by chance?”
“No, sir. I ain’t got a horse for one.”
“Thought I heard a truck right ’fore you walked in.”
“Yes, sir. I come in a truck.”
“Ain’t got many vehicles round here. Might could use you to haul turpentine to my buyers. We always needing ways a doing that.”
“It’s got a radiator problem.”
“Oh. Well. Where you hail from?”
“South Carolina.”
“All righty, then, so you can’t be a woods rider, but always got the need for chippers, dippers, and tackers. Thing is, we typically only let the darkies do that sort a work, or making the gum barrels.”
“I don’t care what I do. I’m good at any of it.”
“Some boss men don’t take kindly to mixing things up, if you know what I mean?”
Rae Lynn didn’t get a chance to respond because he kept on talking.
“I ain’t in the mood to hear complaints. Tell you what. I’m gonna put you under Jim Ballard, let him figure out where you fit in. He’ll use you where he needs you, and he don’t care who’s doing what long as the work gets done. The work wagon will come get you at five thirty sharp. Driver’s name is Clyde. I’ll let Ballard know you’re to join his work crew.”
She said, “Sounds fine to me.”
“We got living quarters for men who ain’t married that way. I got fifty-cent or dollar spots.”
“I’ll take a fifty-cent one. I ain’t choosy.”
He said, “Get what all you need from the commissary. We pay in scrips.”
Rae Lynn didn’t say anything about not needing scrips. Best to not let on she had some money.
He said, “You can stay at number forty-four. If it ain’t to your liking and you want you a dollar spot, let me know.”
She said, “Okay.”
“Listen. We’re setting dead center of thousands of acres. Make sure you don’t get yourself lost out there in them woods. People been known to get gone in the swamp. Gators, water moccasin, wild boar can all be trouble to you. Pay’s seventy-five cents a day. That good?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
He shoved a piece of paper across the desk and said, “Sign here. This says you agree to that, where you’re staying, and who’s your boss man. You can park your truck under the lean-to over yonder. Tell Weasel over to the distillery I said it’s all right.”
She printed her name where he’d put an X, knowing her cursive was too nice for a man’s writing. She was careful to put a y instead of the e, becoming Ray Cobb to him. He took it back, and she allowed him to mangle her hand again. She went out and pulled the truck under the lean-to like he directed, then gathered her things and began making her way to number forty-four. It felt good to stretch her legs some. After a while, right when she believed she might be lost, she passed by the man she’d seen earlier. He sat on his porch cramming Spanish moss into a mattress. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she was intent on minding her own business. Spot number forty-four ended up beside him, and too close, in her opinion. No privacy whatsoever.
Climbing the short set of steps, she wasn’t done in by the terrible condition of the dwelling, but more about what she and Warren would be doing right now if all was as it should be. She felt tears coming on, and held them in. She swiped at her eyes, before scrutinizing the tiny porch, which was covered with dirt. There was an old, worn chair for sitting outside, a dusty, empty bottle by one leg, and not much else. She set her things down and pushed against the door. It seemed stuck. She bumped her shoulder against it and it popped open. She went inside and immediately backed out.