an awful look, I just stared at him and couldnât take my eyes off of him. I was being terrified and attracted at the same time. And I just couldnât move. And right then Edgarâs dog came sniffing up and got a look at the owl and made a lunge at him and Edgar grabbed him by the ear and yanked him back, because the owl wouldâve killed the dog if he hadnât, one wing or not. And I couldnât help, I was so dumbstruck. The dog was barking and Edgar was yelling at him, jerking him, and the owl began to shove back an inch or two in the silage and his eyes got big and dark, like he was gathering himself for a last burst. And all of a sudden Edgar just shot him full in the face with his shotgun and the owl disappeared, or at least anything that mightâve made you think it was an owl there, just went away in half a second and left a big messof blood and feathers all matted and stuck together in a clump. And I just sort of got faint, I think, because one second I was looking at the owl, and one second I was looking straight down at something else that was different. Neither one of us knew what was coming until it was over, cause Edgar was behind me and was having a bad time with his dog, and just figured the owl was the easiest thing to get rid of since heâd already blown his wing off, and it was hopeless. But it all happened too fast for me and I guess I fainted, though I never did fall down. He just obliterated him. The owl lost everything in one instant.â
He slid below the window glass.
âThatâs an awful story,â she said in a bad temper. âIâm sorry you told it to me. It doesnât make any sense.â
âWhat difference does it make?â she said.
She climbed out onto the bare floor.
âBut you understand it, donât you?â he said.
âOf course. But Iâm not responsible anymore. Neither are you.â
She stepped out into the moonlight for a second, and disappeared.
5
Out the double window he could see smoke rising against the humped moon, flooding the Illinois sky with the soft luff of corn-plain haze, spreading east in the night, taking the rain off into the Wabash valley, leaving the sky clean and stiffening in the cold.
At four-thirty he woke in the dark. The train passed onto a long trestle. The palings drummed between himself and the distance. He could make out the mauve exhalations of a river, coiling like a ghost of itself in the gloom. The rest was dark.
He had sat on the bed watching her put on her uniform.
âThis would be easier to do with the lights,â she said, groping into her overnight case.
âI like you better in the dark,â he said, studying his abdomen lolled between his thighs.
âWhy
is
that, Newel?â she said, hunting another piece of clothing on the floor.
âI donât like watching women getting dressed,â he said. âI used to watch my mother get dressed, and it embarrassed me. It seemed clinical to me, like talking to her about my penis.â
âDid she let you watch her undress?â
âDid Hollis wiggle his zub in your face when you were teeninecy? Iâm sure he didnât.â
âNo,â she said, flicking a comb through her hair, and stepping noisily in the darkness.
He arranged his feet crosswise under his thighs and spread the sheet over his legs.
âTell me something,â she said, dropping her brush in the bag and tipping the lid with her toe.
âI donât know anything. Youâre the world travelerâyou tell me.â
âThereâs no need to be boorish. I simply want to know about your father.â
âYou asked about him before, remember? When I told you he sold starch, you said you didnât really care.â
âWhat happened to him?â
He rested on his elbows and let the sheet shift off his legs.
âHe got killed in Bastrop, Louisiana, on his way to New Orleans. He got behind a big flat-haul
He slid below the window glass.
âThatâs an awful story,â she said in a bad temper. âIâm sorry you told it to me. It doesnât make any sense.â
âWhat difference does it make?â she said.
She climbed out onto the bare floor.
âBut you understand it, donât you?â he said.
âOf course. But Iâm not responsible anymore. Neither are you.â
She stepped out into the moonlight for a second, and disappeared.
5
Out the double window he could see smoke rising against the humped moon, flooding the Illinois sky with the soft luff of corn-plain haze, spreading east in the night, taking the rain off into the Wabash valley, leaving the sky clean and stiffening in the cold.
At four-thirty he woke in the dark. The train passed onto a long trestle. The palings drummed between himself and the distance. He could make out the mauve exhalations of a river, coiling like a ghost of itself in the gloom. The rest was dark.
He had sat on the bed watching her put on her uniform.
âThis would be easier to do with the lights,â she said, groping into her overnight case.
âI like you better in the dark,â he said, studying his abdomen lolled between his thighs.
âWhy
is
that, Newel?â she said, hunting another piece of clothing on the floor.
âI donât like watching women getting dressed,â he said. âI used to watch my mother get dressed, and it embarrassed me. It seemed clinical to me, like talking to her about my penis.â
âDid she let you watch her undress?â
âDid Hollis wiggle his zub in your face when you were teeninecy? Iâm sure he didnât.â
âNo,â she said, flicking a comb through her hair, and stepping noisily in the darkness.
He arranged his feet crosswise under his thighs and spread the sheet over his legs.
âTell me something,â she said, dropping her brush in the bag and tipping the lid with her toe.
âI donât know anything. Youâre the world travelerâyou tell me.â
âThereâs no need to be boorish. I simply want to know about your father.â
âYou asked about him before, remember? When I told you he sold starch, you said you didnât really care.â
âWhat happened to him?â
He rested on his elbows and let the sheet shift off his legs.
âHe got killed in Bastrop, Louisiana, on his way to New Orleans. He got behind a big flat-haul
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