“Here, let me help you.”
Lee folded a pillow over and let Goose rest his head on it.
“I don’t feel so good,” Goose said.
“Feel a lot worse if we hadn’t got some help.”
“Where are we?”
Lee told him about Marilyn, about Aunt Cary, Uncle Riley and Tommy.
“This here is their own bed they done put you in,” Lee said.
“Colored folks?”
“You ain’t going to get funny about that, are you?”
“I ain’t got nothing against colored. I ain’t got nothing against nobody. ’Cept maybe that snake. Lee?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna get well?”
“Looks like it.”
The boy looked at his bandaged hand.
“Case I don’t, I ought to tell you something, especially since you’re a preacher.”
“I ain’t a preacher no more. I been a Pinkerton Man too, and a lot of other things, but no one thinks to call me those. Just Preacher. And I ain’t one. God done long gone from me. And you’re gonna be all right. You don’t need to confess nothing to me.”
“I ain’t never had no pussy, Lee. I lied about that. I just wanted to sound big.”
“That’s all right.”
“I want some, but I ain’t never had none.”
“You’ll have your chance someday. I think we ought to talk about something else, and if I was you, I’d drop that line of talk and thinking until I was about sixteen or so, then I’d wait until I got married.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Hard to wait, ain’t it? And you got to do it with a bad girl you ain’t gonna marry.”
“Don’t believe that. Ain’t no girl or woman any badder than you make them. I ain’t your daddy, and I ain’t no preacher, but trust me, lead the good life. Things you do, they set off a line of events that can be good or bad. I was just telling Marilyn that.”
“The woman picked us up?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?”
“She’s old as me. But yeah, I think she’s pretty.”
“You ain’t had none while I was sleeping, have you?”
Lee lightly slapped Goose’s head. “You can stop that talk. Lay down and shut up. I’ll see what we’re gonna do next.”
“You ain’t gonna leave, are you?”
“No. I ain’t gonna leave you.”
“Like you said, you ain’t kin. You don’t owe me nothing. You don’t have to stay.”
“Ain’t got nothing better to do for the moment. Reckon I’ll keep up with you for a while. You rest now. Aunt Cary and Uncle Riley are gonna fry some chicken in a bit. You can eat, can’t you?”
“Like an old wolf.”
21
The freedom of the car was exhilarating, and because of it, as well as because it seemed a commonsense plan-and if it had not been she would have convinced herself it was-Sunset decided to drive to Holiday the next morning, take a look over at the courthouse, see if she could figure out something about the maps in the grave.
She had looked over the ledger, and decided it wasn’t connected. The ledger had notes from cases, and not many of them, as it was pretty new, and she figured Pete had just stuck the maps in it, then buried it all together, maybe to help protect the maps. Yeah, that was it, she was pretty sure.
Thing to do was go to Holiday, look at the courthouse, see what was there. And she planned to take Hillbilly with her, send Clyde out to look at the land next to Zendo’s, talk to Zendo, see if he knew anything about who owned that stretch. She knew she was doing it too because she wanted to be alone with Hillbilly, and that irked her. She was letting her loins make decisions for her. It was always said that men thought with the little head and not the big head, but something other than her head was certainly doing some of her thinking, and she didn’t like it, but couldn’t resist it. In fact, thought of it made her a little light-headed.
As for Karen, she would drive her over to Camp Rapture first thing in the morning to spend the day with Marilyn. Marilyn would like that, and she thought Karen would too, and maybe they’d go to Holiday, see a picture show.
Hell. She might see a picture show herself. Or go to the Oil Festival that was being held in honor of what oil had done for Holiday. Which was turn a nice peaceful burg into a mud hole full of thugs and noise and tall metal derricks and too many people rubbing shoulders and no telling what all else against one another.
The whole idea of having a car made Sunset feel as powerful as the gun made her feel. Only better. Free. Was that how men felt all the time?
Or most of them, anyway?
And she had two men who wanted her.
Clyde. Who she didn’t want.
And Hillbilly. Who she sure as hell did want.
But it was great to be wanted after being locked away so much of the time in the house, and when she was wanted by Pete, it was as a punching bag. Punching with his fists. Punching with his penis. No love there and no true want of the sort she cared about.
Things were maybe not wonderful, but they were better than they were when Pete was alive.
If it wasn’t for what it did to Karen, what she was having to deal with, she’d maybe consider shooting a husband every day. It had certainly opened some doors.
Sunset was thinking about all this as she fed Ben out by the big oak beside the road in the near darkness. There was still light but it was fading fast and the light that was there held dust motes in strands so that they looked like tresses of fine blond hair hanging amidst the trees.
Sunset took in a deep breath and savored the taste of the air.
Karen was inside the tent, reading a book. Clyde had relented and given Hillbilly a ride somewhere, then probably gone home to his burned-down house to lie under his tarp.
Sunset was enjoying this time. Just her and the dog. Even being away from Hillbilly and thinking about being with him was in this moment better than being with him. She could let her imagination work overtime.
“Howdy,” said a voice.
Sunset wheeled, dropping the pan in front of Ben, and began pulling her gun from its holster.
Before she could pull it clean, a hand went over hers, a hand larger than both of hers put together, multiplied by two, and with that movement, quicker than sight, the gun was out of her grasp and a colored man with an explosion of head hair and a heavy beard, a man no wider than a log wagon and no taller than a pine, was standing in front of her, holding the gun in the palm of his hand.
Ben wheeled, growling.
“Easy, boy,” the big man said.
