Mister Harrison leaned against the dry barn and removed his hat. He used a handkerchief to dab his black hair. He was a short man, broad shouldered and stout. He let out a colossal sigh, then studied Pete, Vern, Eulah, Reese, and Baby Ruth with hard eyes.

“Can them two young’uns work?” Mister Harrison asked.

Paul scoffed. “Why, those two can pull their own weight better ’n any two young’uns you ever saw.”

“How about the bull?” said Mister Harrison, nodding toward Vern.

“He’s got him a name,” said Paul.

Mister Harrison let out a demeaning chuckle. Then Harrison looked into the distance at the long green fields of tobacco leaves. Harrison’s workers labored in the sunlight, wearing straw hats and canvas sacks slung around their shoulders. They picked weeds from between the wide, leafy rows, placing the field daisies and the jimsonweed into bags a handful at a time. Harrison whistled at two workers who were close by.

Two men came running. They were wiry, with long necks and leathery skin. They stood before Mister Harrison with bent backs and humble faces.

Mister Harrison rubbed his chin, staring at them. He seemed to be thinking. Finally he announced, “One of you’s fired.”

His words didn’t resonate right away. It took a few moments before they settled on the men. The faces of the young men became long and serious. They looked at Harrison, waiting for more words, but there were none. Mister Harrison was only wearing a strange smirk.

One man answered, “Boss? You’re firing us?”

“No,” said Mister Harrison. “Just one of you.”

The men wore confused faces.

“Which one of us?” said the other man.

Mister Harrison crossed his arms. “Whichever one of you beats the other.”

The men looked at each other in what was obviously disbelief. They removed their hats and let out nervous laughs. “But, Boss, Clarence is my friend. We’s been friends since we’s kids.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you two,” said Mister Harrison. “I got a man to fire, and one of you better get to kicking the other one’s tail, or you’ll both be out of a job.”

The men grew uncomfortable on their feet. One man threw down his weed sack and his hat.

But Paul had already had enough. He grabbed the hands of Pete and Eulah and said, “We don’t need jobs that bad. Good day to you, sir—”

“No!” shouted Mister Harrison, keeping his attention on the two fieldmen. “Now I just gave you boys an order . . .” His voice was low and threatening. “You gonna sit there and defy me? Or is you gonna listen to your boss man?”

The men pleaded. They begged. Mister Harrison swore in a voice that rang throughout the county, then removed his hat. He shot forward and threw his heel into the back of one man’s knee. The man fell face-first onto the dirt.