As soon as the splint was on, Louie started the truck, Knute got in one side and Clair the other, and they drove off, the four of us watching them leave.
We were not to see them for two days and I thought by the end of the first day I would die.
When Clair said help Glennis I had no idea how much work it would involve.
Glennis and Louie milked and I had to run back and forth with the full buckets, pour them into the separator, turn the separator, and then when milking was done, clean the barn with a shovel that slid down the gutters to scoop them out.
Then I’d cool all the milk and cream, feed the chickens, move the cows back out of the barn into the pasture, then up to the house to peel potatoes for Glennis to cook, and wash separator parts while she was cooking, and finally sit at the table in the light from the Coleman, trying to stay awake until Louie was done feeding so I could get some.
And all the while Harris was near me, holding his ribs and stomach, wincing dramatically, instructing me.
“This way, scoop the stuff this way” and “You’ve got to spread the chicken feed out, you dope, or they don’t all get some.”
By dark I couldn’t see and pretty much wished Harris had been killed by the bull, which had gotten up just after Clair and Knute left and seemed none the worse for wear.
On the second day it was harder. We just went at it all day, one job feeding into the next without a break until dark, and Harris still didn’t help, which by this time had me furious.
We were in bed. Or rather Harris was in bed and I was about to fall on mine and go into a work-induced coma.
Harris moaned. “I think my ribs are broken.”
I said nothing, lay with my eyes closed.
“That bull hit me hard.”
Nothing. For a long time, silence. I was in agony, my muscles on fire. Every bone in my body ached.
“In fact I’m thinking I might not be able to do anything for a week or so, what with rib breaks and all...”
“Harris,” I interrupted.
“What?”
“If you don’t help tomorrow, I’m going to kill you.” I was surprised to find that I meant it. Completely. And it must have shown in my voice because after a long pause Harris sighed.
“It must have been the way I was lying. I turned a little and the pain is gone.”
“Good.”
10
In which I discover love only to have
my heart broken and in revenge
I fry Harris’s business
I didn’t know I was in love until it was all over and it was too late to do anything about it.
Knute came home with a plaster cast on his lower left arm and everything went back to normal. He worked as hard as ever and the only change seemed to be that he held his morning coffee with one hand instead of two.
Love started at the Saturday night dance. Somebody else had burned out or was sick or had run out of money or something—it was never exactly clear to me what had happened, and there was always something happening that required Saturday night dances—and we went to town as we usually did.
I had done this several times now and knew what to expect. I still didn’t fit in very well, didn’t know any of the other kids, so as soon as I got inside the beer hall, while Harris was fighting—and he fought every single time we went to the Saturday night dance—I got an orange pop and sat at a table in the corner until the movie started.
Usually nobody bothered me. When Harris was done fighting he would come inside and get a pop and sit with me and then we’d go in and watch Gene ride and shoot. Or Harris would—he never tired of Gene riding and shooting. I soon grew bored with it all and on this particular night I was leaning back a bit on my beer crate not looking at the screen but at the faces of the other kids in the room.
There were fourteen or fifteen of them, ranging in age from six to thirteen or so. As soon as hard puberty hit they would be out dancing or in the front of the saloon necking, and the cutoff seemed to be twelve or thirteen.
I couldn’t believe they never got sick of the movie and I was watching them watch when I felt somebody doing the same thing to me and turned to see the most beautiful girl in the world looking right at me.
She had wide blue eyes and blond hair in braids that hung down her back, and she smiled and didn’t look away when I looked at her and I thought I would die.
It was that sudden. I had seen movies where they talked about love at first sight, movies my mother made me sit through, and I was certain that’s what was happening here.
I turned away, could feel myself blushing savagely, and wished I could just crawl away. I decided in fact to do just that and made my way to the door and out into the dance room where the music was whanging and whooshing away.
It was probably all a mistake. She hadn’t really been looking at me, I thought, and took an orange pop and went to my little corner table to watch the dancers.
But when I turned to sit I saw that she had followed me and she sat at the same table.
“Hi. I’m Elaine.”
I couldn’t say anything. She was about my age and when I saw her closely in the better light from
