The wires strung from one pole to the next gleamed bright copper in the summer sun. Glints of green light shot from the pole’s glass insulators as the boys stared. “Funny ain’t no birds on them wires, huh?” “They got too much ’lectricity in ’em. You can even hear ’em hum they got so much.” Riley cocked his head, listening: “That what’s making that noise?” he said. “Sho, man. Jus like if you put your ear against a streetcar-line pole you can tell when the car’s coming. You don’t even have to see it,” Buster said. “Thass right, I knowed about that.” “Wonder why they have them glass things up there?” “To keep them guys what climbs up there from gitting shocked, I guess.” Riley caught the creosote smell of the black paint on the pole as his eyes traveled over its rough surface. “High as a bitch!” he said. “It ain’t so high I bet I caint hit that glass on the end there.” “Buster, you fulla brown. You caint hit that glass, it’s too high.”
