Free Going Home by Angery American

Ms. Edith put out was a true front. She was a sweet woman; she stuffed more food in me than I knew I could hold.
    “There’s a spare bed in the sewin’ room. You can sleep in there.” She was clearing the table and pilling dishes in the sink.
    I stood with a couple of dishes in my hand and headed for the sink. “I appreciate it, ma’am, but I’ll stay next door. There’s a few things I need to do over there. But thank you.”
    She turned to look at me. “Give me those! I’ll take care of this; you git. No guest in my house is cleanin’ up supper!” She took the dishes out of my hands and shooed me out of the kitchen.
    “Don’t worry, son, she don’t let me help out in there. I get even though. I don’t let her in my shop!” He chuckled.
    “Breakfast’ll be ready about six. I ’spect you’ll be here,” she said over her shoulder.
    “Mr. James, I appreciate it. Supper was terrific, but I really don’t want to impose.” I felt kinda bad, these good folks giving me food they can’t replace.
    “Son, I weren’t askin’. We’re fine. If you ain’t here, I’ll send Edith over fer ya. Your choice.” He was looking at me sideways with a squint.
    “I have a feelin’ I’d rather sandpaper a wildcat’s ass than tangle with her.” That got him to laughing.
    “You’re a pretty smart kid. I’ll see you in the morning. By the way, there’s a jug of kerosene on the back porch for that heater.” He stuck out his hand, and I took it. “Thank you for what you done today, son. I mean that.” He held onto my hand while he said it and then continued, “You’re a good man, an’ I hope you git where yer goin’.” With that, we shook hands.
    “Thank you, Mr. James. I appreciate it. But I’m just a regular guy.”
    “Good night, son. See you in the morning,” he said as he turned to go into the house.
    “Good night, Mr. James, and tell Miss Edith thank you for supper. She’s a real hoot.” With that, I headed back to the house.
    “Oh, by the way, if ya need any water, there’s a pitcher pump out back of my place. Jus’ help yourself.”
    “Thanks, that’ll be great,” I replied.
    The house was dark when I went inside. Taking my flashlight from the right cargo pocket, I lit my way inside. From my pack, I took out the Glo-Toob and turned it on and the flashlight off. Using this, I went back to where the bucket of laundry was and carried it into the living room. I found my headlamp in the pack and put it on. Carrying the laundry, I went over to the back of James’s house. After pouring off the soapy water, I pumped the handle on the old pump, covering the clothes again. I agitated the water until it was soapy again, repeating this process until the water was clearish. I wrung out the clothes, getting as much as I could out of them. Laying them over my arm, I headed back to the house.
    After laying the wet laundry on the kitchen counter, I went back to the living room and pulled the fuel tank from the heater. It was an old catalytic style heater; I had two of them in the shop back at the house. On the back porch, I filled the tank and returned to the heater and dropped it back in. Going through the startup procedure, I got the heater lit. As it was warming up, I looked around the living room for a place to make a clothesline. By the door were a couple of coat hooks. The only other thing I could find was one of the latches on a window. Taking a roll of 550 cord from my pack, I tied one end to the latch and stretched it across the room. About a foot from the coat hook, I tied a loop in the line and then wrapped it around the coat hook. Running the loose end through the loop, I pulled it back using the added leverage to get it tight and secured it with a couple of half hitches. With the line in place, I moved the heater so it was close but not under the line, and hung my clothes up. It took a couple of adjustments to get the line tight enough to hold them off the floor.
    The sofa was going to be my