Carl and Working

Carl looked around the yard and thought he’d try to get one of his vehicles running. After selling the 87 Ford pick-up he had some room to work on one of them. Maybelle was getting tired of walking into Derry Station. Maybelle was getting tired of walking everywhere. Carl didn’t like to drive her around and didn’t like to let her drive one of his vehicles. Maybe he’d get one of the smaller cars running for her later. With Carl, a lot of things were later. Most things are later. Carl accepted his lot in life. He was poor; he was always poor; he was always going to be poor. He also didn’t do anything to change that. His attitude was, “Ah, well, whet ya gonna do?” Carl wasn't going to do more then absolutely necessary. As he left his son, Carl Jr., ran over to him to say goodbye and not to "work to hard." Carl's wife Maybelle had a good laugh at that.

Carl and Maybelle didn’t have a lot. The trailer was almost paid for and the rent on the lot was very cheap. They could chop all the wood they needed. They grew some vegetables out back. Maybelle did that. Carl didn’t like to work the soil that much. He was a miner at Shaft#23. It didn’t work regularly too much and that suited Carl. It gave him time to do other things. One of the other things was hanging around Snookies'. Snookie owned the local garage. It was a gas station-garage. It wasn’t one of the new convenience stores. Snookie sold gas, repairs cars, car parts, and cigarettes. Maybe a little shine out the back. Snookie didn’t do a lot of repair work because the poor folks did their own or did without. Some of the cars and trucks in the county were run on hope and luck and slow around the curves.

In Derry Station you had three kinds of folks. You had a few well- off, like Squire Davis; you had some of the middle class; like the Sheriff; mostly you had the poor, like everyone else. There wasn’t any industry here. You had farmers, miners, and that’s about it. Most money was earned under the table. Barter was also used. Most folks just did without. Heck, wasn’t that much even if you had a little money.

A lot of folks here didn’t graduate from high school. The ones that did were considered to be “ejucated”. Unless you went on to college, and very few did. The ones that did never came back. It didn’t matter. “Ejucated” or not there was no work except the mine and that was a sometime thing. You did have your farmers but they were all as poor as the land. The land here was pretty much played out from the run-off from the mine.. The yuppies or whatever you want to call them had no interest in living here so the land wasn’t worth all that much. When yuppies don't want a piece of land it was worthless.

“Hey, Carl,” Snookie hollered out from underneath Squire Davis’ car. The Squire was a good customer. He paid upfront and never bitched about the price. He also was one of the few people who wasn’t going to work on his own car. While Snookie called most people by their Christian name, he called Squire Davis or Mr. Davis. Snookie wasn’t the only one who could work on the Squire’s car.

“Hey, Snookie. What’s new?” Carl looked over at the soda machine and thought, as he always did, Snookie ought to put beer in there. Who would drink soda if there was beer instead? He said that to Snookie once and was told, “who’d buy it?”

“Whet’s new? Shoot, thar ain’t been nuthin’ new here in years. Ole Charlie Smith lookin’ for some block layers, you be interested. Pays minimum and figures on three to four days.” Snookie knew Carl had no interest in working for Smith or anyone else.

“Hmm, may be thet I’ll ask him. I’d like to work on one of the cars fer Maybelle so I could use the cash. The mine done been down a long time. Shoot, I don’t mind layin' block. I don’t care for Charlie Smith much at all. Thet ole boy want too much fer what he pay,” Carl replied.

“Well, could be as thet’s why he got money and we don’t”, Snookie answered. Actually, Charlie Smith didn’t have much money either. He just had a little more than these two did.

“Maybe. I reckon I’d rather be poor than cheap and be payin’ nothin’ fer hard work.” Carl would love to be like Charlie Smith; he'd love being Charlie Smith.

“Well, you already be poor. I don’t personal see where bein' poor be so great. I ain’t never had much money, so’s I can’t say for certain, but I think I’d rather have money than not.” That was Snookie’s philosophy.

“I reckon.”

“I reckon, too”.

Clarence Williams came in. He lit his pipe as he listened to Carl and Snookie talking. Clarence worked the mine too, when it worked. When it didn’t, he did what was there. He wasn’t shy about work and he took what he could get. He got the job with Charlie Smith, laying block. Charlie was cheap as all get out but money was money. There wasn’t anyone else paying much for labor. There wasn’t anyone paying much for anything. He figured he took what was there or starve. Clarence wasn’t going anywhere and he wasn’t going hungry. He’d work for the Charlie Smith’s around here. Clarence interrupted at this point to tell Carl,”I got the block layin' job so there be no need for y’all to go botherin' Charlie Smith right now.”

Clarence knew Carl did a lot of bitching. He also knew Carl was just plain lazy. Carl liked the mine being a sometime thing. Carl was always lazy. He was just what people thought that folks around here were. Heck, even a dummy like Clarence at least tried to better himself. Not Carl, though. Unless this was the best Carl could do. Well, maybe that is it. Well, nothing to do about that. Carl at least married a good woman and had good kids. Guess a man can say that says a lot. Maybelle could have done better; Maybelle should have done better. Carl really must have tricked her. Heck, maybe Maybelle’s not too bright. No, she must be. The kids had to got what little intelligence they had from somewhere and Carl isn't where. Carl was dumb as dirt.

“Course, money don’t be buyin' happiness as they say. Just having a bunch of cash don’ gonna make ya'll all happy,” Carl added.

“No, no it don’t. Thet be true, Carl. But, I got to tell you somethin. I’d still like to try to be happy and have some cash money ta spend. I reckon I could be happier eatin' pork than rabbit or bar; I reckon I could be happier drinkin' Jack Daniels rather than shine. Wouldn’t make me none too sad to have a new truck neither. I reckon I’d like to try that money thing.”

“Yea, I reckon.” “Well, I reckon you be willin’ to work a lot cheaper'n me," Carl said. He hadn’t intended going to Charlie Smith. mith might hire him and then he’d be stuck.

“I reckon I be willin’ to work period.” Then Clarence gave Carl a hard look.

That ended the conversation. Carl didn’t like what Clarence had said but he couldn’t do to him. Carl couldn’t really respond.