I don’t want wake up, but I’m waking up. Mama and Daddy’s talking. I want go back to sleep, but they talking too loud. I feel my foot in the sock. I don’t like socks on when I’m in the bed. I want go back to sleep, but I can’t. Mama and Daddy talking too much.
“Honey, you let me oversleep,” Daddy says. “Look here, it’s going on seven o’clock.”
“You ought to been thought about that last night.” Mama says.
“Honey, please,” Daddy says. “Don’t start a fuss right off this morning.”
“Then don’t open your mouth,” Mama says.
“Honey, the car broke down,” Daddy says. “What I was suppose to do, it broke down on me. I just couldn’t walk away and not try to fix it.”
Mama’s quiet.
“Honey,” Daddy says, “don’t be mad with me. Come, give your man a good little kiss so he can get out of here.”
“Go kiss your car,” Mama says.
“Kiss my car?” Daddy says. “That cold car? Honey, you don’t mean that.”
“I mean just that,” she says.
“Honey, I been kissing you every morning since us been married,” Daddy says. “I kiss you and you kiss me—and that’s how I been making it in that world out there. How I’m go’n stop it now?”
“That’s up to you,” Mama says.
“Honey,” Daddy says. “This is Eddie your husband. The one you married. Remember?”
“You married to that car,” Mama says. “Go kiss her. I’m sure she waiting. I ain’t.”
“Honey,” Daddy says, “suppose Sonny hear you talking like that? Didn’t that preacher say we had to set a good sample for him?”
“Then how come you don’t set a good sample for him?” Mama says. “How come you don’t come home sometime and set a good sample for him? How come you can’t leave that car alone long enough to set a good sample for him? You the one need to set a good sample. You the one. I do my best.”
“Honey, I told you before the car broke down on me,” Daddy says. “I was coming home when it broke down. I even had to leave it out on the road. I made it here quick as I could.”
“You can go back quick as you can, for all I care,” Mama says.
“Honey, you don’t mean that,” Daddy says. “I know you don’t mean that. You just saying that because you mad.”
“Just don’t touch me,” Mama says.
“Honey, I got to get out and make some bread for us,” Daddy says.
“Get out if you want,” Mama says. “They got a jailhouse for them who don’t support their family.”
“Honey, please don’t talk about a jail,” Daddy says. “It’s too cold. You don’t know how cold it is in a jailhouse this time of the year.”
Mama’s quiet.
“Honey?” Daddy says.
“I hope you let me go back to sleep,” Mama says. “Please.”
“Honey, don’t go back to sleep on me,” Daddy says. “Honey—”
“I’m getting up,” Mama says. “Damn all this.”
I hear the springs mash down on the bed boards. My head’s under the cover, but I can just see Mama pushing the cover down the bed. Then I hear her walking across the floor and going back in the kitchen.
“Oh, Lord,” Daddy says. “Oh, Lord. The suffering a man got to go through in this world. Sonny?” he says.
“Don’t wake that baby up,” Mama says, from the door.
“I got to have somebody to talk to,” Daddy says. “Sonny?”
“I told you not to wake him up,” Mama says.
“You don’t want talk to me,” Daddy says. “I need somebody to talk to. Sonny?” he says.
“Hanh?”
“See what you did?” Mama says. “You woke him up, and he ain’t going back to sleep.”
Daddy comes across the floor and sits down on the side of the bed. He looks down at me and passes his hand over my face.
“You love your daddy, Sonny?” he says.
“Uh-huh.”
“Please love me,” Daddy says.
I look up at Daddy and he looks at me, and then he just falls down on me and starts crying.
“A man needs somebody to love him,” he says.
“Get love from what you give love,” Mama says, back in the kitchen. “You love your car. Go let it love you back.”
Daddy shakes his face in the cover.
“The suffering a man got to go through in this world,” he says. “Sonny, I hope you never have to go through all this.”
Daddy lays there ’side me a long time. I can hear Mama back in the kitchen. I hear her putting some wood in the stove, and then I hear her lighting the fire. I hear her pouring water in the tea kettle, and I hear when she sets the kettle on the stove.
Daddy raises up and wipes his eyes. He looks at me and shakes his head, then he goes and puts his overalls on.
“It’s a hard life,” he says. “Hard, hard. One day, Sonny—you too young right now—but one day you’ll know what I mean.”
“Can I get up, Daddy?”
“Better ask your mama,” Daddy says.
“Can I get up, Mama?” I call.
Mama don’t answer me.
“Mama?” I call.
“Your pa standing in there,” Mama says. “He the one woke you up.”
“Can I get up, Daddy?”
“Sonny, I got enough troubles right now,” Daddy say.
“I want get up and wee-wee,” I say.
“Get up,” Mama says. “You go’n worry me till I let you get up anyhow.”
I crawl from under the cover and look at my feet. I got just one sock on and I look for the other one under the cover. I find it and slip it on and then I get on the floor. But that floor is still cold. I hurry up and put on my clothes, and I get my shoes and go and sit on the bed to put them on.
Daddy waits till I finish tying up my shoes, and me and him go back in the kitchen. I get in the corner ’side the stove, and Daddy comes over and stands ’side me. The fire is warm and it feels good.
Mama is frying salt meat in the skillet. The skillet’s over one hole and the tea kettle’s over the other one. The water’s boiling, and the tea kettle is whistling. I look at the steam shooting up to the loft.
Mama goes outside and gets my pot. She holds my pot for me and I wee-wee in it. She dumps the wee-wee out the back door and takes my pot to the front.
Daddy pours some water in the wash basin and washes his face, then he washes my face. I shut my eyes tight. I feel Daddy rubbing at my eyes to get them clean. I keep my eyes shut tight so no soap can get in. Daddy opens the back door and pitches the water out