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"
I
knowed
you
wasn
’
t
Oklahomy
folks
.
You
talk
queer
kinda
—
that
ain
’
t
no
blame
,
you
understan
’
.
"
"
Ever
’
body
says
words
different
,
"
said
Ivy
.
"
Arkansas
folks
says
’
em
different
,
and
Oklahomy
folks
says
’
em
different
.
And
we
seen
a
lady
from
Massachusetts
,
an
’
she
said
’
em
differentest
of
all
.
Couldn
’
hardly
make
out
what
she
was
sayin
’
.
"
Noah
and
Uncle
John
and
the
preacher
began
to
unload
the
truck
.
They
helped
Grampa
down
and
sat
him
on
the
ground
and
he
sat
limply
,
staring
ahead
of
him
.
"
You
sick
,
Grampa
?
"
Noah
asked
.
"
You
goddamn
right
,
"
said
Grampa
weakly
.
"
Sicker
’
n
hell
.
"
Sairy
Wilson
walked
slowly
and
carefully
toward
him
.
"
How
’
d
you
like
ta
come
in
our
tent
?
"
she
asked
.
"
You
kin
lay
down
on
our
mattress
an
’
rest
.
"
He
looked
up
at
her
,
drawn
by
her
soft
voice
.
"
Come
on
now
,
"
she
said
.
"
You
’
ll
git
some
rest
.
We
’
ll
he
’
p
you
over
.
"
Without
warning
Grampa
began
to
cry
.
His
chin
wavered
and
his
old
lips
tightened
over
his
mouth
and
he
sobbed
hoarsely
.
Ma
rushed
over
to
him
and
put
her
arms
around
him
.
She
lifted
him
to
his
feet
,
her
broad
back
straining
,
and
she
half
lifted
,
half
helped
him
into
the
tent
.
Uncle
John
said
,
"
He
must
be
good
an
’
sick
.
He
ain
’
t
never
done
that
before
.
Never
seen
him
blubberin
’
in
my
life
.
"
He
jumped
up
on
the
truck
and
tossed
a
mattress
down
.
Ma
came
out
of
the
tent
and
went
to
Casy
.
"
You
been
aroun
’
sick
people
,
"
she
said
.
"
Grampa
’
s
sick
.
Won
’
t
you
go
take
a
look
at
him
?
"
