Page 48 of Half of Paradise


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“Hey Evans, can’t I get a shovel? I was sick again last night.”

“You should have got at the head of the line.”

“I’ll pull my guts loose with a pick.”

“You’re slowing up the line.”

Jeffry lifted the pick on his shoulder with both hands and walked over to the irrigation canal.

“What’s your name?” the trusty said to Avery.

“Broussard.”

“There’s supposed to be another guy here—LeBlanc.”

“Scratch him off. He’s in the hospital at Angola,” Evans said.

“I ain’t supposed to scratch nobody off till I get an order.”

“I’m giving you the order. He won’t be here for three weeks.”

“Why don’t somebody at the office get things straight and stop screwing up my list?” the trusty said. “What are you doing here, Boudreaux? I got you marked down in detention.”

“I’m out.”

“I can see that.”

“Give me a pick and I won’t take up any more of your valuable time.”

“How am I supposed to kee

p my list straight when half the guys in your gang is someplace they shouldn’t be?” the trusty said to Evans.

“You can bitch to the warden and maybe he’ll give you another job. We need more people on the line,” Evans said.

The trusty wrote in his book. “Boudreaux—one pick,” he said.

Evans turned to Toussaint.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.” He shouldered his pick with one hand, the point sharp and shiny in the sun. His hand was tight on the smooth wood handle. Evans looked at him, his face pink and peeling from sunburn. Toussaint stared back.

“Don’t ever think you could get away with it,” Evans said. “You wouldn’t no more get the pick over your head and I would have my pistol out.”

“A man that’s been on the gang can swing pretty fast. Even with one hand and from the shoulder.”

Evans started to step back and checked himself.

“Talk like that can send you to detention,” he said.

“I been there before.”

“One of these days you ain’t coming back. You’ll go crazy in there and start mumbling and pissing on yourself like the loonies.”

Toussaint let the pick drop to his side and swing loosely by one arm. Evans’ hand jerked to his holster involuntarily and then relaxed. The Negro walked past him to the ditch.

“What was Evans on your ass about this time?” Jeffry said.

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