LORD persecute them.
He heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. A moment later, Shaw and Tara came in, loudly. They were drunk. Shaw declaring,
“We took a taxi. Nobody in no condition to drive. God. Mitch, your mother fleeced us. Didn’t she, Tara?”
“She fleeced
you
,” said Tara — and Mitch thought he detected coquettishness in her tone. Ah, God. My daughter is
flirting
with him? Son of a bitch.
Break their teeth, O God, in their mouth: break out the great teeth of the young lions, O LORD.
Tara went into the kitchen to find her mother. While Shaw came over to the desk. “What you up to there, Mitch?”
“Nothing.”
“Reading Scripture? I’m impressed. Hey, did the lottery folks call? Have they scheduled the press conference yet?”
“Tomorrow. Eleven o’clock.”
“God. Great. That should be a blast.”
The bastard kept standing there, while Mitch read:
Consume them in wrath! Consume them, that they may not be! And let them know that God ruleth in Jacob unto the ends of the
earth!
Tara came back from the kitchen. “Mom wants to know, you want red or white wine with your supper?”
Shaw laughed. “Tell your mother she’s not getting me drunk. That’s the classic mistake of two-bit crooks.”
“Seems like one you’ve already made.”
“Oh, well then, if the horse is out of the barn, I’ll take red.” He grinned. And asked Mitch, “Hey, did I tell you your mother
took us to the
cleaners
?”
Mitch nodded.
“That’s the King James, right? You prefer the King James?”
Mitch shrugged. “I guess.”
“How come?”
“Just the one I’ve always used.”
“I know what you mean,” said Shaw. “Same with me, I like the old ways best. All the beauty is in the old ways.”
Be not thou far from me, O LORD. O my strength! Haste thee to help me!
Romeo only had time to kick some oyster shells and mud over the carcass before it started to rain. Fat teary drops that chased
him back to the Tercel. He got behind the driver’s seat just as a storm began to unpack itself all around him. Lightning on
all sides. He turned up Worms of Wisdom, which boomed around in the car while the thunder clattered outside. The wipers worked
like oars, and he seemed to be floating. He took the Rt. 25 spur to Cap’n D’s. He pulled into the parking lot, and there he
stopped and changed his shirt. Then rolled down the window, made a cup of his hand, and caught rainwater, which he slapped
all over his face. He got his razor from his duffel and shaved. There was no soap, and the only light was the grisly light
of the thunderstorm, but when he checked his work in the rear-view mirror, he thought he’d done OK.
As soon as the storm abated a little, he made a dash for the restaurant door. He had a dinner of stuffed flounder and fried
oysters, which was delicious. As he ate he thought, if Shaw says the scheme is in good shape, maybe it is. He
is
a visionary. He seems to have these folks all figured out. It’s true that sheer audacity often wins the day. Maybe I won’t
have to murder anyone.
After his meal, he drove over to the mall and bought a T-shirt for his mother. She had wanted a Florida T-shirt, but now it
seemed unlikely he’d ever get to Florida, so he bought one that said
The Golden Isles of Georgia
. It had a palm tree, a sand dollar, and a pirate. Next he went to Hermann’s Candle Shoppe and bought a gift for Claude. Then
he went to Camelot Music and got an album by the band Drive Fast & Shut Your Eyes — just to find out what kind of music Clio
liked. It turned out to be all sparkly harmonic syrup. He played it as he made another circuit of the city. He couldn’t stand
it, but he played it through dutifully, while he visited, one by one, the stations of his patrol.
I should
try
to appreciate this gooey shit.
Shaw would love it.
After the rain, the air was full of earth-smells. The light came down a thin, unstable gold, and somebody’s straw hat was
He heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. A moment later, Shaw and Tara came in, loudly. They were drunk. Shaw declaring,
“We took a taxi. Nobody in no condition to drive. God. Mitch, your mother fleeced us. Didn’t she, Tara?”
“She fleeced
you
,” said Tara — and Mitch thought he detected coquettishness in her tone. Ah, God. My daughter is
flirting
with him? Son of a bitch.
Break their teeth, O God, in their mouth: break out the great teeth of the young lions, O LORD.
Tara went into the kitchen to find her mother. While Shaw came over to the desk. “What you up to there, Mitch?”
“Nothing.”
“Reading Scripture? I’m impressed. Hey, did the lottery folks call? Have they scheduled the press conference yet?”
“Tomorrow. Eleven o’clock.”
“God. Great. That should be a blast.”
The bastard kept standing there, while Mitch read:
Consume them in wrath! Consume them, that they may not be! And let them know that God ruleth in Jacob unto the ends of the
earth!
Tara came back from the kitchen. “Mom wants to know, you want red or white wine with your supper?”
Shaw laughed. “Tell your mother she’s not getting me drunk. That’s the classic mistake of two-bit crooks.”
“Seems like one you’ve already made.”
“Oh, well then, if the horse is out of the barn, I’ll take red.” He grinned. And asked Mitch, “Hey, did I tell you your mother
took us to the
cleaners
?”
Mitch nodded.
“That’s the King James, right? You prefer the King James?”
Mitch shrugged. “I guess.”
“How come?”
“Just the one I’ve always used.”
“I know what you mean,” said Shaw. “Same with me, I like the old ways best. All the beauty is in the old ways.”
Be not thou far from me, O LORD. O my strength! Haste thee to help me!
Romeo only had time to kick some oyster shells and mud over the carcass before it started to rain. Fat teary drops that chased
him back to the Tercel. He got behind the driver’s seat just as a storm began to unpack itself all around him. Lightning on
all sides. He turned up Worms of Wisdom, which boomed around in the car while the thunder clattered outside. The wipers worked
like oars, and he seemed to be floating. He took the Rt. 25 spur to Cap’n D’s. He pulled into the parking lot, and there he
stopped and changed his shirt. Then rolled down the window, made a cup of his hand, and caught rainwater, which he slapped
all over his face. He got his razor from his duffel and shaved. There was no soap, and the only light was the grisly light
of the thunderstorm, but when he checked his work in the rear-view mirror, he thought he’d done OK.
As soon as the storm abated a little, he made a dash for the restaurant door. He had a dinner of stuffed flounder and fried
oysters, which was delicious. As he ate he thought, if Shaw says the scheme is in good shape, maybe it is. He
is
a visionary. He seems to have these folks all figured out. It’s true that sheer audacity often wins the day. Maybe I won’t
have to murder anyone.
After his meal, he drove over to the mall and bought a T-shirt for his mother. She had wanted a Florida T-shirt, but now it
seemed unlikely he’d ever get to Florida, so he bought one that said
The Golden Isles of Georgia
. It had a palm tree, a sand dollar, and a pirate. Next he went to Hermann’s Candle Shoppe and bought a gift for Claude. Then
he went to Camelot Music and got an album by the band Drive Fast & Shut Your Eyes — just to find out what kind of music Clio
liked. It turned out to be all sparkly harmonic syrup. He played it as he made another circuit of the city. He couldn’t stand
it, but he played it through dutifully, while he visited, one by one, the stations of his patrol.
I should
try
to appreciate this gooey shit.
Shaw would love it.
After the rain, the air was full of earth-smells. The light came down a thin, unstable gold, and somebody’s straw hat was
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