We Begin at the End(59)
“You know nothing, Thomas Noble.” Duchess bit a large chunk off the cigar, chewed and tried mightily not to vomit.
Thomas Noble cleared his throat, then squinted up at her. “So … the reason I came. There’s this dance approaching us. The winter formal.”
“I hope you’re not working up the courage to ask me. Now of all times. When I’ve got a mouth full of tobacco.”
He shook his head quickly, then went back to the task.
“You should know that I don’t intend to marry. And I especially wouldn’t marry you … with the hand.”
“It’s not hereditary. I was an anomaly. Doctor Ramirez—”
“I’m an outlaw. I’m not going to take the word of a Mexican.”
He worked on in silence, then stopped to squint up at her again. “I’ll do your math homework for a month.”
“Alright.”
“Alright yes?”
“No. I still wouldn’t go with you. But I’ll permit you to do my math.”
“Is it because I’m black?”
“No, it’s because you’re a weakling asshole. I’m looking for bravery in a man.”
“But—”
“I’m a fucking outlaw. When you will realize that? I don’t dress up nice and date boys. I’ve got bigger things on.”
“Like what?”
“There’s a man after me,” she said, and he watched her carefully. “A man named Dickie Darke and he drives a black Escalade and he wants to kill me. So, you want to do something useful, you’ll keep an eye out for him.”
“Why does he want to kill you?”
“He thinks I wronged him.”
“Tell the cops. Or your grandfather.”
“I can’t tell anyone. If they find out what I did I’ll get in shit. They might take me away from Robin.”
“I’ll look out.”
“You ever done anything brave in your whole life?”
Another head scratch. “The tire-swing by Cally Creek.”
“That’s not brave.”
“You try it with one hand.”
She almost smiled.
“My mother birthed me without pain relief. Bravery is passed down, right?”
“Shit, Thomas Noble. You must’ve weighed a couple ounces when you were born. Probably shot out when she sneezed.”
He went back to pulling, squinting the whole time.
“Where are your glasses?”
“I don’t even need them.”
“You’re pulling the fucking bluebells. I happen to like bluebells.”
He gingerly lay the bluebell carcass back on the bank. “It’s not always easy to be brave, you know. I’m not like you. You see the kids laughing at me. They’re in a group, a head taller, bigger, they’ve got muscles.”
“It’s not about how big you are. It’s the way you sell it.”
He thought on that. “So I act like I can fight?”
“And then you don’t have to.”
“This man looking for you. Will it work on him?”
“No. You see him and you tell me right away.”
“Alright. But maybe you should be more worried about that kid you threatened. Tyler. He has an older brother and he’s looking for you.”
She waved a hand. “Fuck him and his family. Now pull that big weed and then be on your way. It’ll be dark by the time you make it home. And you can ill afford to get hit by a truck and lose use of another limb.”
He stood with reluctance.
She watched him walk, pick up his bicycle and set off toward the gate. She waited till he was out of sight before she spit out a mouthful of tobacco, shuddered, and scraped her tongue with her fingers.
24
THE IVER COUNTY PARADE.
Main bustled. A boy roping straw bale calves, cursing as he missed the top. Girls tossing bean bags into hoops. There was a stall selling hotdogs, a ramp for skateboards nothing more than ply resting on an upturned plant pot. Hal took Robin to get his face painted. Duchess sat on the sidewalk and watched the floats. Mount Call Insurance, Trailwest Bank. Little girls with tiaras, waving to the flash of a couple of cameras.
She saw Thomas Noble and his mother. Mrs. Noble. She was tall and striking, heads turned as she strolled. Beside was an old man, short and thin and white.
Thomas headed over.
“Your mother doing charity? Help the aged or something.”
Thomas Noble followed her eye. “That’s my father.”
She frowned. “Jeez, what’s the attraction there, financial or fetishistic?”
He tugged her arm. “I’ve got something to tell you. It’s urgent.”
She stood with reluctance as he led her from the crowds. Now Duchess could only guess at what Thomas Noble deemed urgent, and her guesses ranged from him believing his mother was fooling around with the mailman, to feeling certain his withered hand was getting stronger, and that he’d soon be able to crush cans with it. He had a thing about crushing cans.
“This better not be about your mother fucking the mailman.” Her relationship with Thomas Noble had blossomed into the kind of one-sided friendship where he confided in her and she used his secrets against him, without mercy.