“He done already done that,” Sadie added. Before I could ask when and why, she continued. “A couple of years ago, some fool tried to steal Mac’s car out of his driveway. Mac ran out just in time to stop that jackass.”
“Did he kill him?” I asked, looking from Sadie to Buddy.
“Naw. He shot at him, but he missed,” Buddy answered. “And that sucker took off in such a hurry, he ran clean out of his shoes. Then he had the nerve to try to steal another man’s car in the same neighborhood. He wasn’t so lucky that time. I was one of the pallbearers at his funeral.”
“I’m glad Mr. MacPherson didn’t kill that thief. He is such a nice man, I’d hate for him to get involved with the law,” I stated.
“Thank you. Him and Millie got enough problems already. Especially trying to marry off that gal of theirs.” Sadie shook her head and clucked her thick tongue. “She grown and still living at home. And she look like the kind of woman no man in his right mind would tangle with. She a whole head taller than me and probably twice as strong. If I seen her fighting a bear, I’d help the bear. Wouldn’t you do the same thing, Buddy?”
“Sure enough.” Buddy chuckled for a few seconds, and then he started yip-yapping about Joyce some more. “And she got the nerve to flirt with me almost every time I see her, with her mugly self.”
“‘Mugly’? What’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s just a nicer way of calling somebody ugly. Anyway, she been messing with me ever since I started working here last September, grinning and sashaying in front of me like a shake dancer. But I would never get involved with a woman with feet bigger than mine. First time I make her mad, she’d stomp a hole in me.”
This was the first time I’d heard about Joyce, and it wouldn’t be the last. Every time things got slow on my first day, Buddy and Sadie would wander over to where I was stacking or reorganizing merchandise and start conversating and laughing about the MacPhersons’ pitiful daughter.
“Y’all got me so curious now, I can’t wait to meet this beast,” I admitted, laughing along with them.
“You’ll see exactly what we mean when you do meet her,” Sadie told me.
“Why don’t y’all like her? Is she mean-spirited, too?”
Buddy and Sadie gasped at the same time. “No, she ain’t no mean person at all, and we do like her,” Sadie claimed. “We talk about all the folks we know like this. But Joyce is such an oddball; we talk about her a little more than we do everybody else.”
“I hope you’ll like her too,” Buddy threw in. “She ain’t got many friends, so she need all the ones she can get.”
By the end of the day, I had heard so many unflattering things about the MacPhersons’ big-boned “old maid” daughter, it seemed like I’d known her for years. I felt so sorry for her. The next day when Mr. MacPherson bragged about how smart and nice and caring his only child was and how much he loved her, I told him I couldn’t wait to meet her. I’d only said it to make him feel good, because I wanted to make sure I did everything possible for him to keep me on the payroll. I had heard that the stock boys before me had never lasted more than a few weeks. A couple had just up and quit, but the MacPhersons had fired all the others. I hoped that I’d get to stay a lot longer, or at least until I found a better job.
I had just enough money to last until I got my first paycheck. Mr. MacPherson had promised that if he was pleased with my work and I got to work on time, he’d eventually give me more responsibilities and more money. He really liked me and even told me I reminded him of himself when he was my age. I told him that if I looked half as good as he did when I got to be his age, I’d be happy. That made him blush and grin, and it made me realize that complimenting a man like him could win me a lot of points. It was true that I had a lot going for me in the looks department. But I never took it for granted. People had been telling me I was cute since I was a baby. My curly black hair, smooth Brazil nut brown skin, slanted black eyes, and juicy lips got me a lot of attention. One of the main things the women liked about me and complimented me on all the time was my height, which was six feet four.
Some women believed that old wives’ tale that tall men had long sticks between their legs. I couldn’t speak for other tall men, but I had enough manly meat between my thighs to keep the women I went to bed with sure enough happy. I wasn’t just tall; I had a body like a prizefighter. Years of backbreaking farm labor had rewarded me with some muscles that wouldn’t quit. Women couldn’t keep their hands off me. When I was younger, I used to have to sneak out back doors in bars just to throw them off my trail. I was thirty-one now, so I still had a few good years left to find a wife and have children before my jism got too weak. I was between ladies now, and because my last two breakups had been so bad, I was in no hurry to get involved with another woman anytime soon. I changed my tune Monday afternoon when I met Mr. MacPherson’s daughter.
Chapter 3
Odell
I HAD JUST FINISHED STACKING THE CANNED GOODS SHELVES IN THE grocery section aisle when I noticed Mr. MacPherson and a tall young woman walking toward me. She resembled Mac
