Joey Spencer’s world, Depression plagued, rural, eastern North Carolina, is a world of limited possibilities, narrow horizons, and strong personalities. It is an era when the mere idea of indoor plumbing or TV is science fiction, but the arrival of the bookmobile or Swindell’s grocery truck is a much-anticipated treat.
Against this background of unique time and place Joey’s story unfolds. Some of his experiences are universal – the death of a beloved pet, first fumbling attempts at seduction, a son’s struggle to please his father – but all are freshly seen through Joey’s eyes and vivid imagination.
Neighbors and family influence young Joey. Miss Sylvia fills her days with radio serials and the Sears and Roebuck catalog, dreaming of a better life. Valerie has dreams, too -- dreams of killing her abusive father. Malcolm Tetterton hates children, but wants to adopt one to please his wife. And within Joey’s family, Arthur Lee walks the brink of madness, Uncle Harold has a shameful secret, and Molly, Joey’s mother, has secrets of her own.
Joey shares with the reader the joys and sorrows of his loss of innocence and coming of age during Hardscrabble Days.
Guess she got here early and fell asleep, I thought, moving toward her to wake her up. Oh my God, she's dead. There's blood all over her face. He killed her, I almost screamed, stumbling over the fishnets to get closer. I got my foot caught in a pile of crab line and fell right on top of her.
She screamed and jumped up, knocking me off of her like some wild animal.
"Hush! Hush!" I whispered, untangling myself from the crab line that had wrapped around my ankle.
"You scared me to death," she whispered. "Let's get out of here. They might have heard us."
"What happened?" I asked, wanting to know if Abner Ward was dead.
"Get in the boat. I'll tell you when we get out on the water, " she said, untying the boat and tossing me the line.
I jumped in and she grabbed an oar and started pushing us out into deeper water. The river was a little choppy this morning, but I wasn't worried, I had been on the river many times with her and she knew exactly what she was doing. We soon got to deeper water and she sat down, put both oars in the oarlocks and we were off to Indian Island.
"Tell me what happened?" I said, wanting to hear every word.
"Daddy got home about eleven last night and woke us all up. Well, he didn't wake me up, because I was waiting for him. Said he was checking to see if everybody was home. The baby was crying and Mama tried to calm him down," she said, pulling hard on the oars.
"Shut the damn baby up. I've got a splitting headache. He's getting on my nerves," Daddy said to Mama. Mama tried to get the baby to hush, but he wouldn't stop crying. Daddy tried to take the baby from Mama. She ran outside. He called her ugly names and told her to get her ass inside the house this minute. She didn't come. He started throwing things. I tried to run outside with Mama, but he grabbed me. I yelled out the screen door. I heard Mama yell from somewhere in the dark, 'Don't you hurt that young'un!'"
Water started splashing over the bow of the boat, but Valerie pulled on the oars and got us headed into the waves, which had gotten bigger the farther, she rowed out into the river.
"What happened next?" I asked, not worried too much about the rough water.
"He slapped me real hard and told me to get him a beer. I wanted to run outside with Mama, but he grabbed my hair and pushed me toward the icebox. I didn't have much choice, so I got him a beer. 'How the hell do you think I'm going to drink this beer with the top on it?' he yelled, poking the beer back in my hands. 'Open it! You little fool.'"
"I hooked the bottle cap in the Coca-Cola opener nailed to the wall beside the icebox and took the beer to him."
"Why didn't you put the rat poison in it?" I asked anxiously, not knowing yet whether Abner Ward was dead.
