“You right about that. Poor Willie Frank cried up a storm. I ain’t never seen a white man grieve over colored folks the way he done. Yvonne and Milton’s house was his second home. He’ll never get over this. A heap of his kinfolks came with him.” Sadie was talking so fast, she had to pause and catch her breath. “They done a lot of boo-hooing, too. This was the first time I seen hillbillies dressed up in suits and ties. I didn’t know they even wore store-bought clothes.”

Buddy took off his stiff-looking black tie, wiped sweat off his face with it, and stuffed it in his pocket. “I wish I had ate before I left my house. My stomach is growling like a wolf,” he complained.

“I wish I’d ate something, too. Joyce, would you believe the only food they had after the service was crackers, cheese, and a few overcooked chicken wings? They didn’t have nothing to drink except water,” Sadie complained, adjusting her wide-brimmed straw hat.

Buddy looked like he couldn’t wait to make his next comment. “I ain’t never had such a miserable time at a funeral. I wish I had stayed home.”

“I feel the same way,” Sadie admitted.

I couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I don’t know what to say about the way you two feel. I assumed y’all thought of Yvonne and Milton as friends!” I hollered. “Y’all drank with them as often as Odell and I did.”

“They was our friends, but Odell was our boss,” Buddy shot back. “Now what is me and Sadie going to do for money? Them was the best jobs we ever had. Nary one of Branson’s farmers want folks our ages working in the cane and cotton fields again.”

“Don’t even think about being out of work. The store will stay open, so y’all don’t have a thing to worry about,” I assured them. They perked up so fast it made my head swim. The smiles on their faces reached from ear to ear.

“Whew. I’m glad to hear that. You don’t know how I been fretting over being unemployed.” Buddy shook his head and fanned his face with his hand. “Anyway, the undertaker told us there was so much damage done to Yvonne’s and Milton’s heads, he couldn’t spruce them up enough to leave their caskets open. With them being bootleggers and ex-convicts, I was amazed at how Reverend Hayes and Milton’s preacher brother stood up at that pulpit and made them sound like saints. But that’s usually the case at most of the funerals I go to. I’m glad I live a righteous life. Reverend Jessup won’t have to lie about me at my funeral. Oomph, oomph, oomph.”