Plainsong (Plainsong #1)(72)

I’ll tell you what, Bud Sealy said. You all three better come down to the station with me. We’re going to talk this out. Tom, you better ride with me. And Beckman, you and the boy there follow us in your car.

What about me? Mrs. Beckman said. He attacked me too.

You come too, the sheriff said. With them in the car.





McPherons.

She told them about it that morning. About Dwayne coming to the school to get her and about climbing in his car and driving to Denver without even knowing why, and how she hoped for it to be one way but how it was another, and how it was generally in his little apartment on the second floor in Denver. The McPheron brothers listened to her, watching her face all the time she talked. And after breakfast they went outside and fed out and then came back to the house and cleaned up and put on their good Bailey hats and took her into town to see Dr. Martin.

On the way she told them what she hadn’t said two hours earlier while they were still seated at the kitchen table. She said she’d gone to a party with him and had let herself go and had gotten to drinking too much, and then she stopped talking and was just quiet, riding between the two old men in the pickup, her hands cupped in her lap under her stomach as though she were holding it up, supporting it.

Did you? they said.

Yes, she said, I did. Then without warning her eyes filled and tears ran down her cheeks and she looked straight ahead over the dashboard at the highway.

Is there something else? Raymond said. You seem like there is, Victoria.

Yes, she said.

What is it?

I got high smoking pot.

Is that marijuana?

Yes, and I don’t know what all I did. I couldn’t remember the next day and I had bruises and cuts on me and didn’t know where I got them.

Did you do it again? Go out to them parties with him?

No. That one time. But I’m scared. I’m afraid I might have done something to my baby.

Oh. Well. Do you think so?

Well, I don’t know. That’s just it.

I wouldn’t guess so, Raymond said. I knew of this heifer we had one time that was carrying a calf, and she got a length of fencewire down her some way and it never hurt her or the calf.

It didn’t?

No. Never bothered either one.

The girl looked at him, examining his face under the brim of his hat. They were okay?

Yes ma’am.

They were? You’re telling the truth?

That’s right. They were no worse for it.

She looked at him for a time and Raymond met her gaze, simply looking back at her and nodding once or twice.

Thank you. She swiped at her cheeks and eyes. Thank you for telling me that.

A heifer calf, as I remember, Raymond said. Good-sized.

They went on. They drove on into Holt to the clinic beside the hospital, on this bright clear day, the sky as pure and blue as the inside of a bowl from China. At the clinic the girl told the middle-aged woman behind the window at the front counter who she was and what she was there for.

We haven’t seen you for months, the woman said.

I’ve been out of town.

Take a seat, the woman said.

She sat down in the waiting room with the McPheron brothers and they waited and would not talk very much even to one another because there were other people in the room, and about an hour later they were still waiting.

Harold turned and looked at the girl and abruptly he got up and crossed to the counter and spoke to the woman through the window. I guess you don’t know what we’re here for.

What? the woman said.

This girl right over here come in to see the doctor.

I know.

We been here a hour, Harold said. Tell him that.

You’ll have to wait your turn.

No. I aim to wait right here. For you to tell him. Tell him we been here a hour. Go ahead now.

The woman stared at him in outrage and disbelief and he stared back, then she got up and went back into the hallway to the examination rooms and in a short while she returned. She said, He’ll see her next.

That’ll be better, Harold said. It’s not what a man might hope for. But it’ll do.

He sat down. Presently they called the girl and the two brothers watched her leave. They sat and waited for her to come back. After she’d been gone for five minutes Harold leaned sideways toward his brother and spoke to him in a loud whisper. You going to tell me now what in hell all that was, back there in the pickup?

All which? Raymond said.

That about that heifer taking fencewire. Where in hell’d you come up with that? I don’t remember any such thing.

I made it up.

You made it up, Harold said. He regarded his brother, who was staring out into the room. What else you going to make up?

Whatever I have to.

The hell you say.

I’m going to talk to this doctor too, when Victoria comes out.

About what?

I aim to put some questions to him.

Then I’m coming with you, Harold said.

Come or stay back, Raymond said. I know what I’m doing.

They waited. They sat upright in their chairs without reading or talking to anyone, simply looking across the room toward the windows and working their hands, their good hats still squared on their heads, as if they were outside in a day without wind. Other people came and went in the room. The sunlight on the floor, showing in through the window, moved unaccounted. Half an hour later the girl came out by herself and walked over to them, a tentative little smile on her face. They stood up.