"Pass," said Uncle Slow.
"Draw up sod," said Mr. Mooncalf. "Plenty chow fer all."
"Jest et," said Luke. "Whar's Annie Lou?"
"Out the well fetchin' whater," Mr. Mooncalf said, ladling bitter vetch with his flat hand. "The," said Uncle Slow.
"Reckon I'll help 'er lug the bucket then," said Luke.
"How's ya folks?" asked Mrs. Mooncalf, salting pulse-seeds.
"Jest fine," said Luke. "Top o' the heap."
"Mush," said Uncle Slow.
"Glad t'hear it, Hoss," said Mr. Mooncalf.
"Give 'em our crawlin' best," said Mrs. Mooncalf.
"Sure will," said Luke.
"Dammit," said Uncle Slow.
Luke surfaced through the air hole and cantered toward the well, kicking aside three littles and one big that squished irritably.
"How is yo folks?" asked the middle little.
"None o' yo dang business," said Luke.
Annie Lou was drawing up the water bucket and holding on the side of the well. She had an armful of loose bosk blossoms.
Luke said, "Howdy."
"Howdy, Hoss," she wheezed, flashing her tooth in a smile of love.
"What happened t'yer other ear?" asked Luke.
"Aw, Hoss," she giggled. Her April hair fell down the well. "Aw, pshaw," said Annie Lou.
"Tell ya," said Luke. "Somep'n on my cerebeelum. Got that wud from Grampa," he said, proudly. "Means I got me a mindful."
"That right?" said Annie Lou, pitching bosk blossoms in his face to hide her rising color. "Yep," said Luke, grinning shyly. He punched at his thigh bone. "Dang leg," he said. "Givin' ya trouble agin, Hoss?" asked Annie Lou.
"Don't matter none," said Luke. He picked a swimming spider from the bucket and plucked at its legs. "Sh'luvs me," he said, blushing. "Sh'luvs me not. Ow!" The spider flipped away, teeth clicking angrily.
Luke gazed at Annie Lou, looking from eye to eye.
"Well," he said, "will ya?"
"Oh, Hoss!" She embraced him at the shoulders and waist. "I thought you'd never ask!" "Ya will?"
"Sho!"
"Creeps!" cried Luke. "I'm the happiest Hoss wot ever lived!"
At which he kissed her hard on the lip and went off racing across the flats, curly mane streaming behind, yelling and whooping.
"Ya-hoo! I'm so happy! I'm so happy, happy, happy!"
His leg fell off. He left it behind, dancing.
1. An unnatural craving for any of the citrus fruits whether in solid or liquid form.
2. Partial or complete loss of geo graphical distinction. (i.e., A person in Kansas City might speak of driving down to San Diego for the weekend.)
3. An unnatural desire to possess a motor vehicle.
4. An unnatural appetite for motion pictures and motion picture previews. (Including a subsidiary symptom, not all-inclusive but nevertheless a distinct menace. This is the insatiable hunger of young girls to become movie stars.)
5. A taste for weird apparel. (Including fur jackets, shorts, halters, slacks, sandals, blue jeans and bathing suits-all usually of excessive color.)
Richard Matheson, Button, Button: Uncanny Stories
(Series: # )
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends