the eye. She would have talked to you worse. And laughed, likely as not. If you search your heart, Son, youll know it.
No!
Your mother called Shannon a little baggage, and then told you to keep your willy in your pants. It was her last advice, and although it was as crude and hurtful as most of what she had to say, you should have followed it.
Henrys anger collapsed. It was only after that after that night that we Shan didnt want to, but I talked her into it. And once we started, she liked it as much as I did. Once we started, she asked for it. He said that with a strange, half-sick pride, then shook his head wearily. Now that hundred acres just sits there sprouting weeds, and Im in Dutch. If Momma was here, shed help me fix it. Money fixes everything, thats what he says. Henry nodded at the approaching ball of dust.
If you dont remember how tight your momma was with a dollar, then you forget too fast for your own good, I said. And if youve forgotten how she slapped you across the mouth that time-
I aint, he said sullenly. Then, more sullenly still: I thought youd help me.
I mean to try. Right now I want you to make yourself scarce. You being here when Shannons father turns up would be like waving a red rag in front of a bull. Let me see where we are-and how he is-and I may call you out on the porch. I took his wrist. Im going to do my best for you, Son.
He pulled his wrist out of my grasp. You better.
He went into the house, and just before Harlan pulled up in his new car (a Nash as green and gleaming under its coating of dust as a bottleflys back), I heard the screen door slam out back.
The Nash chugged, backfired, and died. Harlan got out, took off his duster, folded it, and laid it on the seat. Hed worn the duster because he was dressed for the occasion: white shirt, string tie, good Sunday pants held up by a belt with a silver buckle. He hitched at that, getting the pants set the way he wanted them just below his tidy little paunch. Hed always been good to me, and Id always considered us not just friends but good friends, yet in that moment I hated him. Not because hed come to tax me about my son; God knows I would have done the same, if our positions had been reversed. No, it was the brand-new shiny green Nash. It was the silver belt buckle made in the shape of a dolphin. It was the new silo, painted bright red, and the indoor plumbing. Most of all it was the plain-faced, biddable wife hed left back at his farm, no doubt making supper in spite of her worry. The wife whose sweetly given reply in the face of any problem would be, Whatever you think is best, dear. Women, take note: a wife like that never needs to fear bubbling away the last of her life through a cut throat.
He strode to the porch steps. I stood and held out my hand, waiting to see if hed take it or leave it. There was a hesitation while he considered the pros and cons, but in the end he gave it a brief squeeze before letting loose. Weve got a considerable problem here, Wilf, he said.
I know it. Henry just told me. Better late than never.
Better never at all, he said grimly.
Will you sit down?
He considered this, too, before taking what had always been Arlettes rocker. I knew he didnt want to sit-a man whos mad and upset doesnt feel good about sitting-but he did, just the same.
Would you want some iced tea? Theres no lemonade, Arlette was the lemonade expert, but-
He waved me quiet with one pudgy hand. Pudgy but hard. Harlan was one of the richest farmers in Hemingford County, but he was no straw boss; when it came to haying or harvest, he was right out there with the hired help. I want to get back before sundown. I dont see worth a shit by those headlamps. My girl has got a bun in her oven, and I guess you know who did the damn cooking.
Would it help to say Im sorry?
No. His lips were pressed tight together, and I could see hot blood beating on both sides of his neck. Im madder than a hornet, and what makes it worse is that Ive got no one
No!
Your mother called Shannon a little baggage, and then told you to keep your willy in your pants. It was her last advice, and although it was as crude and hurtful as most of what she had to say, you should have followed it.
Henrys anger collapsed. It was only after that after that night that we Shan didnt want to, but I talked her into it. And once we started, she liked it as much as I did. Once we started, she asked for it. He said that with a strange, half-sick pride, then shook his head wearily. Now that hundred acres just sits there sprouting weeds, and Im in Dutch. If Momma was here, shed help me fix it. Money fixes everything, thats what he says. Henry nodded at the approaching ball of dust.
If you dont remember how tight your momma was with a dollar, then you forget too fast for your own good, I said. And if youve forgotten how she slapped you across the mouth that time-
I aint, he said sullenly. Then, more sullenly still: I thought youd help me.
I mean to try. Right now I want you to make yourself scarce. You being here when Shannons father turns up would be like waving a red rag in front of a bull. Let me see where we are-and how he is-and I may call you out on the porch. I took his wrist. Im going to do my best for you, Son.
He pulled his wrist out of my grasp. You better.
He went into the house, and just before Harlan pulled up in his new car (a Nash as green and gleaming under its coating of dust as a bottleflys back), I heard the screen door slam out back.
The Nash chugged, backfired, and died. Harlan got out, took off his duster, folded it, and laid it on the seat. Hed worn the duster because he was dressed for the occasion: white shirt, string tie, good Sunday pants held up by a belt with a silver buckle. He hitched at that, getting the pants set the way he wanted them just below his tidy little paunch. Hed always been good to me, and Id always considered us not just friends but good friends, yet in that moment I hated him. Not because hed come to tax me about my son; God knows I would have done the same, if our positions had been reversed. No, it was the brand-new shiny green Nash. It was the silver belt buckle made in the shape of a dolphin. It was the new silo, painted bright red, and the indoor plumbing. Most of all it was the plain-faced, biddable wife hed left back at his farm, no doubt making supper in spite of her worry. The wife whose sweetly given reply in the face of any problem would be, Whatever you think is best, dear. Women, take note: a wife like that never needs to fear bubbling away the last of her life through a cut throat.
He strode to the porch steps. I stood and held out my hand, waiting to see if hed take it or leave it. There was a hesitation while he considered the pros and cons, but in the end he gave it a brief squeeze before letting loose. Weve got a considerable problem here, Wilf, he said.
I know it. Henry just told me. Better late than never.
Better never at all, he said grimly.
Will you sit down?
He considered this, too, before taking what had always been Arlettes rocker. I knew he didnt want to sit-a man whos mad and upset doesnt feel good about sitting-but he did, just the same.
Would you want some iced tea? Theres no lemonade, Arlette was the lemonade expert, but-
He waved me quiet with one pudgy hand. Pudgy but hard. Harlan was one of the richest farmers in Hemingford County, but he was no straw boss; when it came to haying or harvest, he was right out there with the hired help. I want to get back before sundown. I dont see worth a shit by those headlamps. My girl has got a bun in her oven, and I guess you know who did the damn cooking.
Would it help to say Im sorry?
No. His lips were pressed tight together, and I could see hot blood beating on both sides of his neck. Im madder than a hornet, and what makes it worse is that Ive got no one
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