Suder by Percival Everett

two fellas. “Good, you’re here with my fuel.”
    â€œYeah, the fuel,” says the big guy, with a stupid grin on his face.
    The two fellas start back toward the truck and Sid turns to me. “You wanna give them a hand?”
    The skinny guy turns around and says, “We don’t need any help.”
    They walk on to the truck and when they get there the beard lowers the tailgate. Then this big fella picks one of the barrels up and puts it on his shoulder. He carries the drum all the way to the boat and the beard is behind him, guiding him. They do this six times.
    â€œThat’s it,” says the skinny guy with the beard.
    â€œI’ll walk you to your truck,” Sid says and the three walk away from the boat. They stand by the pickup and chat for a while and then some money changes hands, but it ain’t clear which way it’s flowing. Sid starts back to the boat and the young fellas drive away.
    â€œWho were they?” I ask as Sid steps into the boat.
    â€œDiscount gas,” he says. “What time is it?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe three. Hey, did you get money from those fellas?”
    â€œThat ain’t the way business usually goes. They give me something, I give them money.”
    â€œIt just looked like … never mind.”
    I’ve got my phonograph plugged in and I’m listening to the song and I’m watching the bugs flying around the lamp on the pier.
    â€œUnplug that thing and let’s go,” says Sid, looking out into the dark Sound.
    â€œTonight?”
    â€œBest time to travel.” He looks up at the sky. “Good night for cruising.”
    I’m unplugging the phonograph. “Ain’t it a little dangerous?”
    â€œThe name of the game. That’s what you need, boy, a little excitement in your life.”
    I’m back on board.
    â€œFella named Gödel proved that ain’t no logical system complete. He had to prove it. I could have told him if he’d asked. You need a dash of illogicalness to make your life complete. Untie that rope.”
    I untie the rope and then another that Sid points to and I follow him up to the helm.
    â€œGerman fellas all the time trying to prove things.” The engine is on and we’re moving away from the dock. “Like that fella Heisenberg. He needed a theory to say he wasn’t sure. You’d think people could find better things to work on, like disposable wives.”
    â€œWhat’s got you so uptight?” I ask him.
    â€œI ain’t uptight.”
    â€œYou sure seem nervous.”
    â€œWell, I ain’t.” He looks ahead.
    We leave the lights of Seattle behind and we’re following the lights of the coast south and then Sid turns off the running lights.
    â€œWhat did you do that for?” I ask.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy’d you kill the lights?”
    â€œDon’t need them.”
    I don’t say nothing. I just look ahead into the darkness. After a few minutes I go down into the cabin and climb into bed. I figure Sid will call me when he needs a break.
    It was dark and quiet. Daddy, Bud, and I were sitting on the front porch, sweating. The only sounds were crickets and the clinking of ice against the sides of our glasses of tea. Ma had sneaked away earlier. I was flooded with odd and painful concerns. I worried that I was insane like my mother. I was bothered by a smell that I imagined on my fingers from Naomi Watkins. Daddy yawned and looked at his watch.
    â€œWhat are you thinking about so hard?” Daddy asked me.
    â€œMa.”
    Daddy looked away from me and out over the yard. “Don’t worry about her.”
    Bud winked at me.
    â€œMaybe Ma could go to one of those doctors for crazy people.”
    Daddy shook his head. “White people’s foolishness. Causes more problems that it cures.”
    â€œWell, maybe she should be in a place,” I said.
    â€œMaybe,” Daddy said,