"What's that?"
"Whiskey. Good God, ain't you never seen a bottle o' whiskey
before?"
"No, sir."
"I wish to hell my young'uns could say that." He laughed and
muttered something else.
Then Mister Ward began singing, or half singing and half
talking to himself. He sounded real happy, like he knew something
nobody else had ever thought about. He had quit paying much
attention to the road. Instead, he was just letting the
automobile weave from side to side. I was wishing we'd hurry and
come to that candy road. But we didn't. We just kept going and
going.
"When we gonna get there?"
"Just a little bit farther, gal."
The few houses we were passing I'd never seen before. "I
wanta go back home!"
"Naw, naw, don't start that tune again. We're gonna soon be
comin' to a big steel bridge. You ain't never seen such a high
bridge! Be watchin' out and tell me when you see it up ahead."
Mister Ward reached under the seat and got his bottle again.
"It's getting too dark to see bridges! I want my mama!"
"Dammit, it shore is gettin' dark.
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