Free Gutbucket Quest by Piers Anthony Page B

didn’t argue.
    Progress went to take a shower while Nadine went into the kitchen to start breakfast. When she passed through the living room, she looked down at Slim, still asleep on the couch. He’d thrown the sheets off and lay there uncovered. She took the time to glance at his body, his erect morning dick, then looked back up at his peaceful face. He was kind of cute, she thought.

7

    While the history of the blues is the history of the individuals who perform it, the danger lies in these performers becoming isolated from their richest traditions, and from the people as a whole, resulting in a total fragmentation of the blues.
    This, of course, is the tendency of an advanced industrial society, wherein any attempt at creative activity on a mass level is inevitably short circuited and smashed.
    —Paul Garon, Blues and the Poetic Spirit
    S lim woke to the smell of frying ham. He sat up and looked sleepily over the back of the couch into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He could see Nadine working at the woodstove, felt the heat of it in the room. She was wearing cutoff jeans and a white T-shirt and she was so pretty that Slim wanted to lie back down and moan.
    She turned and saw him looking at her. “Morning,” she said.
    “Mornin. What time is it?”
    “About eight.”
    “You always get up so early?”
    “Yes, I guess we do. Daddy and I got into the habit a long time ago. It doesn’t seem to matter how late we stay up, come six or seven,our eyes open up on their own and after that, it’s no use to stay in bed. You hungry?”
    “I probably shouldn’t be, but I am. Sure does smell good. Where’s Progress?”
    “He’s outside, messing around with the garden and feeding the birds. Get your clothes on. Breakfast will be ready pretty quick, now.” She moved back to the stove and dumped a big pan of biscuits onto a plate. She shook flour into the ham grease to make gravy, and her hands were white with it as she poured in the milk and began to stir with a fork.
    Slim watched her ass jiggle in the shorts as she stirred the gravy. He was embarrassed. He slept naked, so it was a trick to get his pants on without Nadine seeing him. He managed, looking over his shoulder frequently to see if she was watching him. He got up to go to the bathroom, and when he came back, Progress was inside and three plates of ham, biscuits and gravy were sitting on the big table.
    “You want some coffee?” Nadine asked him as he sat down.
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    She brought him a cup and they all sat down and started eating. The ham was sweet and hot, the biscuits and redeye gravy as good as he’d ever had. Slim ate with real relish. It was far better than his own cooking, though he considered himself an excellent cook. There was no talk until the food was gone and the coffee drunk. Only the crunch of chewed food and the slurp of coffee and the scrape of biscuits soaking up the last dregs of gravy off the plates. When they were finished, Progress leaned back in his chair and patted his belly.
    “Well, chillen,” he said. “We got a busy day, today. I think, firstest, we should go and get Slim some clothes.”
    “But Progress—” Slim started to say.
    Progress waved his hand lazily. “No, son,” he said. “All you got’s what you got on. Man needs more than that to get by. Now, you go on in and take yourself a good shower. When you’re ready we’ll go oninto town, get some pants and shirts and socks and such. Then we’ll go to see T-Bone, see what can we do.”
    “What do you expect, Daddy?” Nadine asked.
    “Truth?”
    Slim and Nadine nodded.
    “I ain’t expectin’ no thin’ from him. I just want him to know that I know.”
    “You think he’ll do anything to us?” Slim asked. He was scared, but not badly. He’d always been able to take care of himself, martial-arts training had insured that, though he’d never been in an actual fight.
    “Not while we’re on his property,” Progress replied cynically. “Once we