Kings Of The Earth Part 18

"s.h.i.+t." Nick stubbed out his cigarette. "Here I am getting the short end of the stick, and it used to be my stick."

"Now come on."

"Remember that? It used to be my f.u.c.king stick."

"It's still your stick."

"Sure it is."

"It's both of our stick. Except it's bigger now. There's more stick to go around."

"You can't prove that by me." He looked down at the bar and then looked up again, square at Tom. "Ever heard of dancing with what brung you?"

"I'm not much for dancing."

"Like h.e.l.l you're not. Henri said you danced just fine up there in Montreal. He said your daddy danced even better than you."

DeAlton.

SO DROP HIM. Cut him off.

Guys like that are a dime a dozen. The sooner you learn that, the better you'll do in this life.

I know, I know, but I don't care. He can't possibly have a line on every d.a.m.ned pot smoker in the county. n.o.body ever gave him sole rights to that information. n.o.body ever gave him this territory on an exclusive basis. You didn't. I sure as h.e.l.l didn't.

There's ways to find out. Use your head. It won't be a big deal.

You cut him off and get him out of the picture and the sooner you do it the better.

So what if he does? I a.s.sure you that Henri isn't going to start selling through the both of us. Who's got the money? You tell me that. Who's got the money?

That's right, we've got the money. Henri's a businessman and he's going to go with the people who've got the money. He can't afford to be sentimental. And he's sure as h.e.l.l no idiot.

If you won't cut him off I will.

That's right. He's just a little fish and I'll throw him back myself if you won't.

On second thought, no. You do it. Consider it part of growing up.

1990.

Donna.

ON HIS WAY HOME for lunch, Graham saw Donna's car turn up the dirt lane. He thought that with her as a buffer it might not be out of line to swing by, see how Audie was doing. So he touched the brakes and made the turn, switching on the air-conditioning and rolling up his windows rather than let the patrol car fill up with the dust that her car had raised. for lunch, Graham saw Donna's car turn up the dirt lane. He thought that with her as a buffer it might not be out of line to swing by, see how Audie was doing. So he touched the brakes and made the turn, switching on the air-conditioning and rolling up his windows rather than let the patrol car fill up with the dust that her car had raised.

He found them in the house. The temperature had gone up to well over ninety-five and the humidity was higher than that and there wasn't much air moving. The windows were open and the gray lace curtain poked through one of them like a tongue and hung listless against the gray sill and the gray clapboards. He didn't knock because they saw him on the porch and Donna opened the door. She was in her hospital greens and she hadn't sat down yet and she never sat down the whole time he was there. He figured he knew why.

Creed was the first to speak. "You want one of them hamburgers, you go on help yourself." Looking at Graham but pointing at an open sack that Donna had brought up from McDonald's in town. "We already had our lunch and they won't keep too good." Donna looked frustrated. Graham said thank you but he was due to make up a Rotary meeting out at the Homestead, so he couldn't stay long. Creed advised him to have the chicken and biscuits and he said he just might if they had it.

Audie had his mouth full of burger regardless of what he'd had to eat already, and he grinned at him around it.

"I just came out to see how you were doing," Graham said.

Audie made some response through the burger and Creed said his brother was doing just fine now that he had two lunches in him. The one they already had and the second one their sister brought.

Donna asked if he was here with more questions for Audie and he told her no. He didn't have any questions for Audie other than how he'd been doing since they'd let him out of the hospital. "That's all through," he said. He put out his hand to Audie and Audie took it. "I'm glad to see you're doing all right." He gave Audie's hand a good hard squeeze and Audie squeezed back as if it were a compet.i.tion and Graham extracted himself. Then he stepped toward the door.

Donna followed him and opened it and said as they stepped out, "He's still on medication right now. A sedative."

"I wondered. It wasn't my business to ask." He drew breath and looked back through the rusty screen at the two brothers making ready to come back out. "It seems to be doing him good."

"I think he has another day or two on it. We'll see."

Graham lifted his damp s.h.i.+rt away from his skin. He looked around the porch and took note of the ashtray on the arm of the overstuffed chair that Vernon had always favored. There were some twists of something probably not quite tobacco in it still and he asked about them, pointing. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"I thought you didn't come here to ask questions."

"I didn't. I just-"

"My brother had cancer. Marijuana gave him some comfort."

"You know where he got it?"

"I'd tell you he grew it himself if you'd let it drop."

"Is that so?"

"As far as anybody ever told me. They grow a lot of things around here."

"Then I'll let it drop," said Graham.

"Creed used to run a still up there in the woods," she said. "A little bit of marijuana isn't that big a reach."

"No," said Graham. "I guess it isn't. Like I said, I'll let it drop. No harm done." Then he tipped his flat-brimmed hat and left.

Del.

I WOULD HAVE LET IT GO WOULD HAVE LET IT GO. I meant to. Not just because of what the sister said, but because those two old men had endured enough. They'd endured enough and they were going to have to endure more before it was over, so there was no sense adding to it now. Another individual might have pursued it regardless and I might have been that other individual under different circ.u.mstances, but not under these.

Imagine me showing up at their doorstep with a search warrant.

You could say I'd let myself feel overly sympathetic toward those two. That's been suggested before, and it'll be suggested again, but I don't believe it's entirely true. I was perfectly prepared to come out and make the arrest when the time came. When Ben Wilson made his decision or the grand jury sent down a charge or however it shaped up. I'm not rationalizing. Another man might lie to himself and say he didn't want a bunch of drug charges confusing the larger issue, when all he really wanted was to give those two a break. But that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying plainly that I didn't want those two old men to suffer over this on top of everything else. When it wasn't the least bit necessary and no one on earth would be served by it.

I'd said my good-byes to the sister and I was getting into my car when Creed and Audie came out of the barn. Audie was saying something to his brother, and whatever it was it made them both laugh. They were very happy right then. They caught sight of me and Audie said something else to Creed and Creed pa.s.sed it on. He said they were about to take the tractor and go up to the creek that lay just beyond the property line and get their feet wet for a while. They'd cooled off that way on hot afternoons ever since they were boys. He asked if I might like to come along. The sun was straight overhead and I was wringing wet so I said yes, yes I would.

Creed drove, and you would have thought Audie was on a carnival ride down at the beach. To take that much pleasure from such a simple thing is most definitely a gift, although I suppose it's the kind of gift that's more or less forced on some people for lack of an alternative.

We rode up through the pasture and came to a wire gate, and Audie jumped off and opened it. We went through and he closed it again and we rode along an overgrown tractor path that must have been left over from their father's day, right along the edge of a little copse of trees that started near the family graveyard and went on for a good while. The shade felt nice and the moving air felt even better. It was along that tractor path, well past the graveyard, that I realized I had a problem. Out there among the trees were thirty, maybe forty mature marijuana plants that I could see from the tractor. That amounts to a major crop, more than those old men could use if they lived a million years. And from the way they tooled past on the tractor, they had no idea of its value.

It put me in mind of that nephew of theirs, the one with the att.i.tude. I wondered what his mother knew, if she knew anything. I figured I had some work to do.

We kept going and we got to the creek and Creed parked the tractor with the front wheels right in the water. We put our feet in for twenty minutes or so, and even though my heart wasn't entirely in it at that point and my mind was going a million miles an hour I must say that it was lovely. Very cool and refres.h.i.+ng. Sometimes when I'm having a rough patch at work, I catch myself being envious of anyone who can finish off his lunch hour that way. But not too envious. Not entirely.

1954.

Ruth.

SHE SITS ON THE PORCH alongside Audie and she watches her other son go. Dressed in his khakis. Marching off into the oncoming storm with the dog limping along behind him. Stopping down where the dirt lane gives onto the main road and hollering something at the dog and going on. He's never even said good-bye. She pictures him lightning-struck and dying by the roadside in a puddle of mud with raindrops pattering and no good-byes said whatsoever and she calls out even though she knows he will never hear her and he does not. alongside Audie and she watches her other son go. Dressed in his khakis. Marching off into the oncoming storm with the dog limping along behind him. Stopping down where the dirt lane gives onto the main road and hollering something at the dog and going on. He's never even said good-bye. She pictures him lightning-struck and dying by the roadside in a puddle of mud with raindrops pattering and no good-byes said whatsoever and she calls out even though she knows he will never hear her and he does not.

Audie looks up from his work and mutters something and she says probably some girl. Some girl from town, the way he's been spending his money. Creed Proctor, the third of her sons and the first to take this route.

Audie grins down at his knife work as if he might like to take that route himself if ever granted the opportunity.

She asks what he is carving, is it a cow or a pig she can't tell yet.

He points toward a place in the yard where he has planted one of his whirligigs just a week or two earlier, this one in the shape of a pig, painted up in the conventional pink.

Oh, she says, the mate of that one, and he nods.

He sits and carves on, chips flying. She asks if he will need to do some turning on this one and he points with his beak nose toward the one in the yard with its turned screw of a tail and she says just so. I see. Silly of me to ask.

Even the pigs have mates, she thinks, even the wooden ones, and she remembers her long-gone Lester and she stifles a coughing fit and she wonders how her son Creed is getting on with whatever lady friend he is most surely courting. Hoping that he does not get wet before he crosses her threshold.

Creed.

THE STORM HELD OFF and I got in before the rain come down. Where I usually sit was empty and two or three places on either side of it were empty too. There were enough people in there though. It was a Friday. I remember it like I put it on a calendar. Friday means payday so there were enough people there and folks looked at me like they never seen a soldier in the Dineraunt before. That's the way they always did even though I come there regular enough and there was plenty of soldiers everyplace in them days. Soldiers was always coming and going. and I got in before the rain come down. Where I usually sit was empty and two or three places on either side of it were empty too. There were enough people in there though. It was a Friday. I remember it like I put it on a calendar. Friday means payday so there were enough people there and folks looked at me like they never seen a soldier in the Dineraunt before. That's the way they always did even though I come there regular enough and there was plenty of soldiers everyplace in them days. Soldiers was always coming and going.

I had the meat loaf. She brung it and she brung the ketchup I always liked with it since she knew me and she knew how I like to eat my supper. I didn't have to ask. The ketchup weren't extra, they just give it to you if you asked for it to go with your meat loaf. I set quiet and ate my supper and people come in and people went out. In from the rain and out into it. She didn't have too much time for me since it was so busy but she checked up on me now and then the way she would.

I never usually had the dessert but that time I did. It got dark outside and you could see yourself in the gla.s.s window. People give up coming in so much. I was getting nervous. Not nervous like Audie but almost. I wanted more people to finish up their suppers and go out so I could ask her and not worry. So I had the dessert. It was a white cake and I had coffee with it and I took my time working on it. More people finished and paid up and left and I was still working. The white cake had frosting and little red flower decorations like for a birthday. I took some on my fork and I told her I guess somebody's always got a birthday at the Dineraunt and she laughed. She was laughing and mopping at the counter with a rag right there next to me and I leaned over where she was working and told her how I killed a few men right up close when I was in Korea. She left off mopping. I said I thought you ought to know about that, Wilma, and she said Velma. She said Velma and she told me I ought to finish up now and go on home. I said I thought you ought to know what I done before I seen if you want to go to the movies with me sometime and she said she didn't care what I done and she didn't care for the movies either. Not with me. Then she went in the kitchen and this feller in a white ap.r.o.n come out and give me my check himself. I think he was the boss. All of us over there in Korea done it like I said but it weren't the kind of thing you talked about.

Audie.

THE DOG DIDN'T COME BACK so I whistled for him but he didn't come back then either. I went to the road to see about him. It looked like rain. The wind whipped up and there was thunder but it wasn't too close. My mother said not to go but I went anyhow. She said he'd come back or else maybe he'd stuck with Creed but I didn't know about that. I didn't think so. He wasn't dead when I found him but he was hurt bad. Some car. He didn't have but three legs when he went down there and when I found him he didn't have that many. I've seen animals cut up but this was different. What kept him alive I don't know. I picked him up and the rain started and I brought him back to the barn. My mother saw me coming and she called Vernon and he came too. The dog was awful slippery. I won't ever forget the sound he was making but I can't make it myself. My mother took one look and went in the house. Vernon got a feed sack and he doubled it over and he wrapped it around the dog's nose and held on. The dog didn't fight. He didn't have any fight left. When a dog pa.s.ses on I don't know if he goes on ahead like a man does or if he just pa.s.ses on and that's the end of it. If it goes that way it doesn't seem fair to dogs. Vernon put the dog in a wheelbarrow for later and I put the feed sack over top and then we had to do the milking. Creed wasn't around to help with any part of it. so I whistled for him but he didn't come back then either. I went to the road to see about him. It looked like rain. The wind whipped up and there was thunder but it wasn't too close. My mother said not to go but I went anyhow. She said he'd come back or else maybe he'd stuck with Creed but I didn't know about that. I didn't think so. He wasn't dead when I found him but he was hurt bad. Some car. He didn't have but three legs when he went down there and when I found him he didn't have that many. I've seen animals cut up but this was different. What kept him alive I don't know. I picked him up and the rain started and I brought him back to the barn. My mother saw me coming and she called Vernon and he came too. The dog was awful slippery. I won't ever forget the sound he was making but I can't make it myself. My mother took one look and went in the house. Vernon got a feed sack and he doubled it over and he wrapped it around the dog's nose and held on. The dog didn't fight. He didn't have any fight left. When a dog pa.s.ses on I don't know if he goes on ahead like a man does or if he just pa.s.ses on and that's the end of it. If it goes that way it doesn't seem fair to dogs. Vernon put the dog in a wheelbarrow for later and I put the feed sack over top and then we had to do the milking. Creed wasn't around to help with any part of it.

1990.

Tom.

THE FIRST TIME that Henri came to the barn was early in January, and DeAlton had a devil of a time convincing his son that they had the date right. that Henri came to the barn was early in January, and DeAlton had a devil of a time convincing his son that they had the date right.

"We said the tenth," Tom said, "but if it's not till two in the morning, then that makes it the eleventh. Right?"

"You want to go on the tenth at two in the morning, you'll be in for a long wait. Like twenty-four hours."

"Still. If we say always be here on the tenth of the month always be here on the tenth of the month and he always shows up on the eleventh, why don't we just call it the eleventh?" and he always shows up on the eleventh, why don't we just call it the eleventh?"

"That'd make it the twelfth, if we said the eleventh." DeAlton leaned on the windowsill of his son's VW and spat onto the ground. "It'd be the twelfth, and you'd be a day late."

"All right," said Tom.

"Just be out there tomorrow night, you'll be fine."

Tom lit a cigarette and blew smoke out the window into the frigid morning, past his father. "It was different when we had Nick."

"If you can't carry a few bricks of dope up and down a ladder, you're getting too soft to be of any use to yourself."

"It's not that."

"Use the block and tackle."

"I never used a block and tackle."

"Then get the Canuck to do it for you."

"I doubt he knows how either."

"I mean get him to carry it. Up the ladder. He's got to be good for something."

"I don't know." Tom started the car and a little plume of gray smoke blew out the tailpipe. "We'll see."

DeAlton took his hands off the sill and whacked the roof of the car with the flat of his gloved hand. It rang like a kettle drum. "Manage it, boy," he said. "Take charge. Show us what you're made of." Then he stepped away from the car and went back inside the house. He was going to be spending the whole day in his little office down at Dobson's, filling in order sheets and figuring out the December expense report which Dobson was about to kill him for not having done already, and he had just enough time for one last cup of coffee before he went.

Preston.

IT GOT SO THAT it was a circus over there nights. That mean-looking greaser friend of Tom's quit coming toward the tail end of eighty-nine but that wasn't the last of it, not by any means. I'd still see him ride past on the main road now and then, slow down and give the place the fuzzy eyeball. Like he was keeping tabs on things. I guess they'd had a falling-out. it was a circus over there nights. That mean-looking greaser friend of Tom's quit coming toward the tail end of eighty-nine but that wasn't the last of it, not by any means. I'd still see him ride past on the main road now and then, slow down and give the place the fuzzy eyeball. Like he was keeping tabs on things. I guess they'd had a falling-out.