Joelle could have gone behind the bar herself, but instead they all waited for her uncle to come over.
“This is a weird question,” Lee said, “but you guys haven’t seen or heard anything about my brother, have you?”
“I thought he was off in school.”
“No,” said Christy, “he’s still here. You see him around sometimes.”
“What’s he doing, then?”
“Looking after our father,” said Lee.
“That’s weird. Even between the two of you, he always seemed to be the one who would get out of here.”
Lee felt her ears getting warm.
“All I mean is, you always knew how to get along with people. He just seemed like the type that was so smart he didn’t know how to talk. You could tell he probably belonged somewhere else.”
“I dunno. There was my dad to look after, I guess.”
“Your dad?” Joelle shook her head. “It ain’t like there’s a shortage of places for your dad around here, not with a steelworker’s pension. I mean right now, just put your head out the door and look. They’re building towers for old people all up and down this valley. Home health is about the only kind of job you can get now, teaching’s out, home health is in. If Christy hadn’t gotten that job with the kids, she’d be swapping out bedpans.”
Christy nodded. “She’s right, unfortunately.”
“It was probably your mother,” said Joelle. “A kid like that is going to be tight with his mother. Something like that happens, it’s gonna hurt him pretty bad.”
There was silence as they all looked into their drinks.
“On worse news that might cheer you up,” said Christy, “you remember Billy Poe? From the football team, freshman when we were seniors?”
“Sure.”
“Killed a bum in one of the old factories. Beat him to death.”
“Why the hell would you even be in one of those places,” said Joelle. “Nothing good could come of it.”
“Everyone’s got secrets.”
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe he was gay or something. They meet up in strange places, it’s not exactly like they could come in here and have a date or something.”
“I can tell you for sure that he wasn’t gay,” said Joelle.
“You cannot.”
“As a matter of fact, I can.” She held her two fingers a good distance apart. “Course the asshole never called me once he got it.”
Lee felt her face getting hot.
“Well, I’m sure now he’d be happy to have any of us. He isn’t gonna see a woman for a long time.”
“I feel sorry for him,” said Joelle.
“Do you think he did it?” said Lee. She felt guilty for asking and had to look away but neither of the two caught it.
“Who knows?”
“He did beat the absolute shit out of Rich Welker once, who entirely deserved it, but everyone noticed that it went on longer than it could have.”
“And that kid he got arrested for last year.”
“That one too,” said Joelle.
Lee nodded and sipped her white wine, it was very sweet.
“So you ever think you’d move back here or anything?”
“I don’t think so,” Lee said. “Or not anytime soon.”
“Thank God,” said Joelle. “I’d never get laid if you did.”
“You really are a whore,” said Christy.
Lee smiled and raised her eyebrows.
“Nah, it’s just a joke, it’s nothing around here but the same old faces since the third grade. Do a boy once in school, know it’s a mistake but five years later there’s no one else and the bar is closing so you do it again. Ten years later you’re married to him. Look at our mothers and it’s even worse today. All the smart ones leave.”
“You guys think you’d ever do that?” Lee immediately regretted asking it but both Joelle and Christy shrugged it off.
“Doubt it. I’ll probably work here until I die.” Joelle waved her hand around, encompassing the bar. “And she’ll take care of the retards.”
“From the fetal alcohol.”
“We’re practically a team.”
They both laughed.
“But really, it’s not bad. Your car breaks down along the road, you know you only gotta wait two minutes before someone you know comes by. There just isn’t that far you can fall.”
“You two ought to come visit me,” said Lee. “We could go to New York.”
“I’d like to do that,” said Joelle.
“Please,” said Christy.
“No,” Joelle said. “I’m serious. Me and Jon- Jon went on that cruise to Jamaica, I’m not like you. I’m practically an adventurer.”
3. Harris
He left Grace’s house and made his way directly to the police station, thinking maybe this is what she wanted from you the whole time. Only if this went bad it would be both him and Billy Poe hanging around in that prison. He wondered if it was better for everyone to just let Billy stand trial—Murray Clark was a drunk, he was not going to come off well in front of a jury. Not to mention if anything happens to old Murray the DA will tear up the earth trying to figure it out.
Murray Clark had given two addresses in Brownsville—Harris had glanced at the papers in the Uniontown police station, then gone into the bathroom to write them down. At the time he didn’t know why he’d done it, collecting information, the old instinct. I’m bored, he thought. His head felt numb, he tried to focus on his driving. He was justifying.
This will be the worst thing you have ever done, he thought. I am just going to talk to him, he repeated to himself. Back in ancient history, his marine days, there was the man he’d shot in Da Nang. If this was a sin, so was that. At least this would mean something. He had a feeling he had generally done right but there was a way in which that was not true at all. He had lied to put people in prison, he had lied many times in court. Never about what the person had done, he had never said the person had committed a crime they had not actually committed. He had lied only to justify his instincts, why he’d stopped a certain car, why he’d searched the car or decided to frisk someone. He’d lied to explain things he knew, but could not explain why he knew.
As for the man in Da Nang, there had been no point. Another rocket barrage and not quite sunup and Harris was eating Dexedrine, bored and high. He was a year out of high school, it was insane they’d even brought him over there. He was posted in one of the outer bunkers near the helipad. The man was carrying a package, possibly a satchel charge—Harris never found out, he watched him walk a small dyke that edged the perimeter, no one was supposed to be out there, the flat-baked clay no- man’s- land on Harris’s side and the fertile green rice paddy beyond. He waited to see if the man would go another direction but he didn’t and at two hundred meters Harris had led his target slightly and pressed the trigger of the M60, held it down for a long second. Every fifth round was a tracer and Harris watched them meet the body and then continue across the brilliant green paddy. The sapper didn’t fall, he stood still for a long time as if not willing to accept what was happening and Harris, confused, offended for some reason, he pulled the trigger and held it long after the man went down, he played the tracers above the area where the man had fallen, arcing them back and forth as if trying to erase the evidence. He used up
