Eventide (Plainsong #2)(59)

He turned right and drove to Shattuck’s Café at the west edge of Holt and went in and sat at a little table by himself at the window, watching the big grain trucks and the cars going by on US 34, their headlights switched on in the evening dark, the exhaust trailing off in the cold air.

When the high-school girl came to take his order, he said he’d take a hot roast beef sandwich and mashed potatoes and a cup of black coffee.

Don’t you want anything else? she said.

Not that I can get here.

Pardon?

Nothing, he said. I was just thinking out loud. Bring me a slice of apple pie. And some ice cream on the side too, vanilla if you got it.





31


VALENTINE’S FELL ON A SATURDAY AND HOYT WORKED from six in the morning until six in the evening at the feedlot east of town, riding pens in the blowing dirt and cold and doctoring cattle in the sick pen next to the barn, where a blackbaldy steer with bloody scours kicked him in the knee, then loosed itself on his jeans while he was trying to push it into the chute. At the end of the day he caught a ride into town with Elton Chatfield in Elton’s old pickup.

They decided to stop for a beer at the Triple M out on the highway to wash the dust out of their throats, and an hour later they were invited to sit in on a game of ten-point pitch at the card table in the back room. In the following two hours the four old men playing at the table managed to take from Hoyt twenty-five dollars and from Elton nearly fifteen, and afterward bought them each a shot of whiskey out of their own money.

In the meantime Laverne Griffith had been waiting for Hoyt since five-thirty, and she had passed through a number of emotions by the time he arrived at home. She had been sad and blue, and for a while she had worried something might have happened to him, but for much of the time she had simply felt sorry for herself, so by nine o’clock she was mad. She was waiting in the kitchen, drinking gin with the lights off, when she heard him climb the outside stairs and open the front door.

Laverne, you ready, girl? he called.

You son of a bitch, where have you been?

Where are you? How come you haven’t turned any lights on?

I’m out here in the kitchen. For all you care.

He walked back to the kitchen in the dark and felt for the light switch, then looked at her. She was sitting at the table already dressed in her party clothes, a black blouse and white jeans, and her face was rouged and her eyes were made up thickly with mascara. The glass of gin sat before her.

Damn, girl, Hoyt said, you’re looking good. He leaned over and kissed her on the side of the face.

Well, you’re not, she said. And you stink of cow shit.

A steer emptied on me this morning while I was trying to head him. I’ll just grab a shower, then I’ll be ready.

Don’t bother. She looked at him and turned away. I’m not going.

What do you mean you’re not going?

You didn’t even bring me a box of chocolates, did you.

Chocolates?

It’s Valentine’s Day, you son of a bitch. You didn’t even know that. I’m nothing to you. I’m just a place to stay and somebody to f*ck in bed when you feel like it. That’s all I mean to you.

Oh hell. You’re all upset. I’ll buy you chocolates tomorrow. I’ll buy you five boxes of chocolates if that’s what you want.

He bent and kissed her again and put his arm around her and poked his hand down into the loose front of her blouse. She slapped at his hand.

Don’t, she said.

Why what’s wrong here?

What do you think is wrong.

Hell, I’m ready to go. Soon as I take a shower.

I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you. You can just get the hell out of here too.

Honey, now this ain’t like you, he said. This don’t sound like my girl.

She took up her glass and took a long drink. He watched her.

You got to quit that drinking. That’s what it is. You’re already drunk and we ain’t even got out of the house yet.

He took her glass away and walked across the kitchen and poured the gin into the sink. Laverne came up out of her chair. She stumbled toward him and slapped him hard in the face.

Don’t ever tell me what I can do in my own goddamn house. Her eyes were wild. She brought her hand up and slapped him again.

You crazy bitch, he said.

He hit her smartly in the face with his open hand, and she spun half around and sat down all at once on the floor.

I’m going to go shower, he said. And you can calm your ass down. Then we’ll get out of here for the night.

When he went back to the bathroom, she stood and grabbed a long metal cooking spoon she’d been stirring their chili with, and lurched after him. He was sitting on the toilet, pulling off his boots, and she began hitting him over the head and about the shoulders with the heavy spoon, spattering chili on his face and shirt and jacket.

Goddamn it, Hoyt shouted. You stupid bitch. Quit it.

He rose up and took hold of her shoulders, spinning her around in the little bathroom, neither of them saying anything at all but both panting furiously, and he grabbed her hand and bent it back until she let go of the spoon. The spoon clattered on the floor. Then he released her, but immediately she scratched desperately at his face, and he shoved her away and she fell backward into the shower curtain, grabbing wildly at anything, and tore the curtain loose from the rod and crashed into the bathtub.