Winter Loon(50)

Lester honked from the street as I wolfed down one last bite of hamburger goop on rice. I told Gip and Ruby I was heading to the dance and had things to do the next day and wouldn’t be around.

“Thought Gip told you to rake up the last of them leaves. Won’t rake themselves.”

“I’ll do it Sunday,” I said as I walked out the door. I couldn’t know those leaves would not get raked at all.



WE SWUNG BY JOLENE’S HOUSE. She greeted me at the door, adorable in braids and cutoff shorts, a blue plaid shirt, and the cowboy boots she and Mona shared. “Hey! You said no dress up! You look cute alright,” I said.

She shrugged. “I’m a little white farm girl. Whaddya think?”

I put my arms around the small of her back and pulled her to me. “You look right nice in them there shitkickers, girl,” I teased.

“And you don’t look too bad for a hayseed.”

Lester laid on the horn. “Let’s go!” A sophomore girl named Daphne, a waif of a thing with a perky figure-skater haircut, had asked him to be her date. He’d declined, preferring, he said, to go stag. “You watch. There’ll be plenty of girls free to dance with Lester because their wrestler boyfriends will be in the toilet puking up Jack.”

I sat in back, as usual, and Jolene sat up front. We cruised around town, chugging beers. By the time we got to the dance, we were all good and buzzed. Jolene was between me and Lester, arms hooked in ours. Kathryn and a cheerleader friend were selling tickets. The booster club chaperone was behind them both. We stood up straight and tried to look serious and sober.

“Hello, Wes,” she said.

“Hello, Kathryn,” I said, making the mistake of mocking her tone. Lester and Jolene snickered. “Two tickets.”

“Okay. One,” said Kathryn. “It’s Sadie Hawkins. The girl is supposed to buy the ticket.” She glared at Jolene. “If she can afford it. Two. This is a date dance. He can’t come without a date.” Another glare for Lester.

“Oh, you’re wrong there,” said Lester. He put his hands on the table and leaned into her. “I can come all by my lonesome. Unless you don’t have a date. You can come with me.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and her friend whispered, “Gross.”

Jolene put her hand on Lester’s shoulder. “They’re both with me. I have two dates and I can pay for all of our tickets.” She laid the money down on the table.

“One date per person,” the cheerleader said.

Jolene picked up the ticket, turned it over. “Nope. Says ‘Admit One.’ I’ll take three.” The cheerleader started to complain, but Kathryn turned suddenly sweet.

“Forget it. Let them in. More money for us. Besides, I have a favor to ask Jolene.” She took the money and handed Jolene the tickets. “There’s a Halloween party tomorrow night at the Idle Hour. I was thinking of going as an Indian. Do you have anything I can borrow?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked, not really looking for an answer.

The chaperone came to life momentarily. “Language there, young man.”

“I take it that’s a no?”

“Yeah,” Jolene said. “It’s a no.”

We walked around her toward the gym. Lester called over his shoulder. “You can still come with me if you want.”



LESTER WAS RIGHT. THERE WERE plenty of girls interested in him. The girl Daphne wore overalls that made her look like a toddler. When she asked Lester to dance, he picked her up like a child and tossed her so high onto a pile of mats, her friends had to spot her when she jumped down. The band played Aerosmith, the Rolling Stones, and Styx, and Jolene and I leaned against the fold-up bleachers, sipping spiked punch, making out, dancing when she insisted. My dance skills were limited to swaying, so I was happier when the song was slow and I could match her rhythm, my hands on her hips, her head against my shoulder. I remember thirsting for her, imagining her turned to creek water, cold and fresh, water I could scoop with both hands, that would wet the dryness in me, that would keep me alive. I must have sighed at the thought of it. She lifted her head, rested her eyes on mine, touched my cheek, thumb to my mouth. I leaned in, kissed her hard like we weren’t where we were.

We’d been at the dance maybe an hour when Lester tapped my shoulder, like he was trying to cut in. “I’m heading out. You two about done with the hillbilly ball?”

“No girl?” I asked.

“Nah, you got the best one, Ballot.”

It was true.

“Yeah,” Jolene said. “We should head out. Besides, you got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“What’s going on?” Lester asked.

Jolene waved him off. “I’ll tell you later.”





CHAPTER 16

I HONORED TROY’S wishes, slept in my own bed but barely. Troy and Jolene and the dog, Sparky, met me outside their house with the keys. I was on the road at sunup. It was one of those red-barn, white-steeple autumn days. Leaves were just past peak gold and red, spiff and crisp against the impossible blue sky. Soon enough I would leave the overgrowth for farmland as I headed west toward Fargo, then due south, a straight flat shot down the state line to Brookings. Troy had gassed up the Bronco for me, just like him to be so kind. “If you wreck it,” he said, winking, “don’t even bother to come back. I want my truck back more than you.”