I thank ye but I best get on.
Well. We’ll be goin back early of the evenin if you want to ride with us.
I thank ye, she said, but I reckon I’ll be goin on.
The man was tapping a loop of the rope in one hand. The woman was holding the quilt in her arms like a child. All right, the woman said, and the man said: Do you ever pass this way again just stay with us.
She entered the first store she came to and went straight down the cluttered aisle to the counter where a man stood waiting.
You seen that tinker? she said.
I beg your pardon?
You welcome. That tinker. He been thew here?
I don’t know, the man said. I don’t know what tinker it is you’re talkin about.
Well, she said. It’s just a old tinker. Have you seen ary tinkers a-tall come thew here.
Mam we got a better line here than any tinker carries and price is more reasonable too. Just what all was it you was interested in?
I ain’t wantin to buy nothin. I’m just a-huntin this here tinker.
Well you won’t find him in here.
You don’t know where he might of got to or nothin?
I don’t keep up with no tinkers. You might try Belkner’s. Some of them stocks there I would reckon. They shoddy enough.
Where is it at?
Cross the street and up about five doors. Big sign, hardware.
I thank ye, she said.
You welcome.
The boy caught up with her crossing the street, limping fast and looking harried. Hold up a minute, he said. Listen.
She stopped and shaded her eyes against the sun.
I slipped off, he said. Listen, you want to go to that show tonight?
What show is that?
Some show they havin. I got money.
How you aim to get back home? Your folks ain’t goin to lay over for no show.
That’s all right, he said. I can get back. I’ll tell em somethin. You want to go?
I cain’t, she said.
How come?
I just cain’t. I got some things I got to do.
You ain’t no schoolteacher are ye?
No.
Well. Do you not hold with goin to shows?
I ain’t never been to nary. I don’t reckon they’s nothin wrong with it.
He had his hands in the rear pockets of his canvas pants. In the powdered dust of the street he had created a small amphitheatre with the sole of one shoe. I don’t see why ye cain’t go, he said. You a widder didn’t I hear ye say?
Yes.
Well. You ain’t got ary beau have ye?
No, she said.
Well.
She watched him curiously. She had not taken her hand from above her eyes.
Well, I don’t see why all ye cain’t go.
I just cain’t, she said.
Won’t, he said.
No.
Looky here. He drew forth from his pocket a deep leather purse, the brass catches grown with a bilegreen crust. He coyly slid a sheaf of bills out and riffled them before her. She watched. She let her hand fall to the bundle at her breast, blinking in the sun. He worked the money. It’s a bunch of it ain’t it? he said. Bet you ain’t never …
I got to go, she said.
Here, wait up a minute.
She mounted the wooden walkway and went up the street.
Hey, he called.
She kept on. He stood in the street with his mouth working dryly and the purse in his hand with the money peeking out.
Yes, the man said. They is one stocks here. Name of Deitch. Is that the one you was a-huntin?
I never did know his name, she said.
Well what did he look like?
I ain’t able to say that neither, she said. I never knowed they was all different kinds.
The man leaned slightly over the counter and focused his eyes for a moment somewhere about her middle. She lowered her arms and looked away toward the sunbright windows at the front of the store.
What was it you wanted with him? the man said.
He’s got somethin belongs to me I got to get from him.
And what is that?
I cain’t tell ye.
You don’t know that either.
I mean I know it but I cain’t tell it.
Well I just thought maybe he could leave it here for ye.
Well, she said, it wouldn’t keep. Sides I don’t know as that is the feller. He ain’t got no little chap with him is he?
I don’t know, the man said. But I don’t see how you goin to find him and you not knowin his name nor nothin.
I reckon I’ll just have to hunt him, she said.
Well, I hope ye luck.
I thank ye.
Yes. Listen, maybe you could leave word if you wanted, write it down and I’d give it to him if it was a secret and then if it was him he’d know and could …
He don’t know me neither, she said.
He don’t.
No sir.
Well.
It’s all right. I never meant to put ye out none. And I do thank ye for your trouble.
Yes the man said. He watched her go, his jaw slightly ajar. Before she reached the door he called to her. She turned, mantled by the noon light that came crooked through the bleary panes of glass.