Chapter 44

“Damn sure was,” Papaw said. “That’s what Joe Bob told me, at any rate. Joe Bob had a dark sense of humor—it was so dark you could harvest your cotton with it.”

Mrs. Ledbetter laughed rather uncertainly.

I cringed with embarrassment.

“Daddy, please don’t talk like that,” Mama said.

“Who’s Joe Bob?” Bill said.

“That’s the pistol that Hitler used to commit suicide?” Mr. Ledbetter asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Don’t listen to him,” I said in warning.

“Who the hell is Joe Bob?” Bill asked.

“He lives in East, West Virginia,” Papaw said.

“East-west Virginia?” Bill said.

“Right,” Papaw said. “Anyway, Job Bob’s father—”

“Where is east-west Virginia?” Bill pressed.

“I done told you!” Papaw snapped. “He lives in East, West Virginia.”

“We don’t know nobody who lives in Virginia,” Bill said.

“I do,” Papaw pointed out.

“What town does he live in?” Bill asked.

“I done told you, Billy. He lives in East. Got corncobs in your ears or something?”