Stories of Erskine Caldwell by Erskine Caldwell

Author:Erskine Caldwell [Caldwell, Erskine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-1716-0
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media LLC
Published: 2011-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

The Courting of Susie Brown

HALF AN HOUR AFTER the sun went down on the far side of the Mississippi, Sampson Jones was hurrying along the dusty road to Elbow Creek where Susie Brown lived all alone in her house behind the levee. Every once in a while he shifted the heavy shoe box from one arm to the other, easing the burden he was carrying.

When he jogged over the last rise of ground before reaching the levee, he saw the flickering light in Susie’s window, and the sight that met his eyes made him hurry faster than ever.

Susie was inside her house, putting away the supper dishes. She was singing a little and brushing away the miller moths that swarmed around the light in the room.

Sampson rattled the rusty latch on the gate and hitched up his pants. Susie had never looked so good to him before.

“You look sweeter than a suck of sugar, baby,” he shouted to her through the open window.

Susie spun around on her heels. The tin pan she was drying sailed out of her hands and clattered against the cookstove.

“What you want here again, Sampson Jones!” she cried, startled out of her wits. “What you doing down here off the high land!”

She had to stop and fan herself before she could get her breath back.

“You done found that out the first time, honey,” he said, lifting the heavy shoe box and laying it before her eyes on the window sill. “Now why don’t you just give up? Ain’t no use spoiling it by playing you don’t know why I come.”

Susie studied the shoe box, wondering what it could hold. The sight of it made her hesitate. The last three times Sampson had come to court her, he had not brought her a single thing.

“I ain’t got no time to waste on no sorry, measly-weight, trifling man,” she said finally, turning her back on the shoe box.

“My trifling days is all over, honey,” he said quickly. “I ain’t trifling around no more.”

Susie swung the dish towel on the line behind the cookstove and stole a quick glance at herself in the mirror over the shelf. Then she moved slowly across the room, watching Sampson and his shoe box suspiciously. “When I get set and ready for a man, I’m going to get me a good one,” she said, inspecting him disdainfully. “I ain’t aiming to waste my good self on no short-weight plowboy.”

Sampson grinned confidently at the scowling brown-skinned girl.

“Baby,” he said, “what do you reckon I done?”

“What?” she asked, her interest mounting.

“I weighed myself at exactly two hundred and ten pounds just a little while ago previously.”

He started to swing his legs through the window opening, but Susie gave him a shove that sent him dropping to the ground.

“I weigh my men on my own scales,” Susie said stiffly. “I wouldn’t take your weighing in any quicker than I would the next one who comes bragging along.”

“What makes you think I’m lying about myself to you, honey?” he asked unhappily.

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