“Better let me go first this time,” said Joseph. “Or else I might chicken out again.”

“You want me to push you out like last time?”

“No, I can do it. Just gimme a second. My old body don’t wanna move this morning.”

Coot helped the old man onto his feet. The man lifted the large suitcase, which was almost as big as Joseph. A case so full it was wrapped with two large belts just to keep it shut.

Joseph held on to Coot with scrawny arms. He grunted. “I’m all stoved up,” said Joseph. “Let me breathe, let me breathe.”

It took several minutes to get the old man steady. Coot could tell he was trying to hide his agony, but the old man hurt from years of hard living. Joseph straightened his back and let out several more moans of discomfort. “Lord, I can hardly move anymore, Coot,” said Joseph. “What would I do without you?”

“Without me?” said Coot. “A con like you? You’d probably be rich.”

The old man gripped Coot’s shoulders, and for once, his eyes were serious instead of witty. “No, I mean it, boy. You’re the angel God sent to me. An old man like me don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, you’re just buttering me up, Joseph.”

Joseph patted Coot’s cheek. “Can’t blame an old con for trying.” He pinched Coot on the chin. “I do love you, boy. But you smell like a horse log.”

The old man kicked his suitcase from the speeding railcar and jumped.

Fifty-Two
Black and Tan

The sunshine blared onto the porch. It hit Ruth’s thighs, her chest, and her face, and made her feel warm all over. The house had become a tomb ever since Reese had left them. There was nobody left to talk to. Pete, Paul, and Vern worked all day. Miss Warner was above girlish chitchat. Ruth had lost the only sister she’d ever known.

She missed the nights they’d spent talking, carrying on about anything and everything in soft voices. Mainly they talked about boys and the day-to-day. And boys. And the things they wanted in life. And boys.

She missed braiding Reese’s hair, playing checkers, and picking out dresses for Sunday service. She missed everything. Now that Reese had moved to Birmingham, it was like she’d lost half of herself.

Ruth held Leon the lizard on her hand. It had taken her three weeks to get this particular lizard to trust her enough to let her hold him. Before that, he’d been living on the trim of her bedroom window. Now that she’d won his trust, she figured she’d better name him. So she chose the name Leon. It seemed to fit. He was lime green, with a bright red money bag that unfolded from his neck. She’d tried several names before landing on this one.