The Honk and Holler Opening Soon by Billie Letts Page A

coming for you?”
    “No.”
    “Probably some damned kids.”
    “Maybe that guy who brought Molly O’s girl.”
    “Well, whoever it is . . .”
    “I’ll go out and see.”
    “No, you don’t have to do that. If they want something—”
    “I’ll be right back,” Vena said.
    She couldn’t tell until she got past the headlights that the vehicle was a truck she had seen before and the driver a man she recognized from her first night at the Honk.
    “We’re closed,” she said.
    “You mean it’s too late for a drink? Didn’t know it ever got too late for a drink.”
    “Caney’s not selling beer tonight anyway.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s Christmas.”
    “Well, it’s not really beer-drinking weather, is it?”
    “Doesn’t seem to be.”
    “Yeah, need something a little stronger than beer for a night like this.” He reached between his legs for a fifth of Wild Turkey, uncapped it and took a long, slow swallow. “Now this’ll make you forget you’re cold, Vena.”
    Vena tried not to look surprised at hearing him say her name, but he caught the sudden tilt of her head.
    “Oh, I make it my business to know the names of good-looking women,” he said. “And I don’t like to drink with strangers.” He winked then to make sure she understood. “I’m Sam. Sam Kellam.” Smiling, he passed the bottle through the window and held it out to Vena.
    “No.”
    “Aw, go on. You look like you need something to warm you up.”
    Sam leaned farther out the window. “Warm you all the way up inside, Vena.”
    “I said no!”
    “Whoa now. I just came to offer you a drink . . . and a ride.”
    “I don’t need a ride.”
    “That right?” Sam let his eyes range over the empty parking lot.
    “Then how you gonna get home, huh? You gonna take a bus?”
    Vena cut her eyes away, looked off into the night. “There’s no bus in this town.”
    “Oh yes there is. And it’s not very far from here. Not far at all.
    You know, I wouldn’t mind a little ride in a bus myself. Take a little of this to relax,” Sam said, waving the bottle in Vena’s face, “then get all cozy in the back of a bus. Let someone else do the driving. You know what I mean?”
    “I don’t give a damn about what you mean.”
    Vena tried to step away from the truck, but Sam grabbed her arm, pulling her close to the window, so close she could smell the sourness of his breath.
    “What’s your hurry? You tired? Yeah, I bet you are. On your feet all day. In and out, in and out. Time you pulled off those boots, put your legs up—”
    Vena twisted out of his grasp and started for the Honk, but she hadn’t taken more than three steps before Sam gunned the truck, tires spinning on the snow as it careened past Vena, then slid to a stop, blocking her path to the door.
    “I might be seeing you on that bus. Might get on it myself. And when I do, Vena, I’ll do the driving.” Then he accelerated and the truck, fishtailing, shot away.
    Vena was shivering when she stepped back inside the Honk, a chill caused less by the weather than by her encounter with Sam Kellam. She’d run up against plenty like him before, a few of them even dangerous, but none who made her feel the way he had.
    “Whew,” she said, blowing on her hands. “It’s colder than I thought.”
    “You’re freezing,” Caney said.
    “Yeah.” Vena hid her hands beneath her jacket so Caney couldn’t see them trembling.
    “Who was that out there?” Caney asked.
    “Some kids. Just out having fun.”
    “Now, this is a hell of a night to be—”
    “Caney, when you asked me to spend the night . . .”
    “Look, Vena. I was just offering you my couch. Nothing more to it than that.”
    “Well, if you’re still offering, I’ll take you up on it.”
    “Sure,” Caney said, clearly delighted. “You bet.”
    “You mind if I keep the dog in your room? Sometimes at night she—”
    “No problem. You go on back, get her settled. I’ll lock up, fix us something to drink. Be there in