A Thousand Acres_ A Novel - Jane Smiley [83]
Ty said, “We try not to forget how lucky we are.”
We walked him out to his truck. A cool wind had picked up, damp and full of rain. The Kansas man said, “Think we’ll get it?”
Ty said, “Feels like it.” Dark clouds were piling up on the western horizon; blinding streaks of platinum sunlight shot toward us over their humped crests. “There’s been some good-sized storms this year, but mostly they’ve missed around here. I expect we’re about due.”
“Now when I was a kid, we used to go tornado chasing.”
“I did that once.”
I turned and stared at Ty.
“Damn risky thing to do, but farm kids are crazy.”
They laughed. The Kansas man got into his pickup and wheeled onto the blacktop, waving as he left. I said, “I guess he won’t care that that motel doesn’t have a cellar.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
The weatherman said the storm would come through Mason City about midnight. We were, in fact, already under a tornado watch. I dished up a chicken stew I’d made in the Crock-Pot in the morning and told Ty a little of what had happened at the elevators and in between, about Daddy bringing up Skylab, but I tiptoed around the argument, knowing he would disapprove. He told me about the progress of the building. I listened for news of Jess Clark, but he didn’t mention anything. It looked like a quiet evening. It may be true that just about this time, during our after supper conversation over the dishwashing, I did hear a truck stop at the corner, turn, and accelerate toward Cabot. It may be that I heard that, or it may be that it’s inserted itself into those memories.
At any rate, Rose called about nine and said that Pete’s truck was gone and that they thought Daddy might have taken it, since he had a key from last winter, when his truck was in the shop. Five minutes later, they blew in the front door, Linda and Pammy in tow. Pete was in a lather, and, though trying to calm Pete, Rose, too, was furious. She kept saying, “I can’t believe this,” and Pete kept saying, “If he wrecks that truck, I’ll kill him. We ought to send the cops out looking for him, or he’s never going to learn.”
Rose paced back and forth. “If they’d put him in jail for a night or two last week, it might have brought him to his senses. Now he just thinks he can get away with anything.”
Ty said, “Why don’t I go into Cabot and see if he went there? He might have just gone to the Cool Spot.”
Rose said, “He’s probably driving all over creation.”
After they left, Linda said to me, “Did Grandpa steal the truck?”
“Not exactly.”
“Dad said he did.”
“Your dad is pretty mad. But we all own the trucks and things together. You can’t steal what you own.”
“Mommy said that she wanted us to come down here, because she didn’t want us to be alone in the house if Grandpa came back.”
“Your mom’s pretty mad, too.”
Rose opened the screen door and came in. She said, “We might get quite a storm. I didn’t notice it before.” Her arms were crossed over her chest. She surveyed Linda and me. Pammy had gone into the kitchen, and in this little silence, I could hear the refrigerator door close. Rose said, “Yes, I am pretty mad, but you make it sound like I’m just mad, as if I were crazy or something. I’m mad at your grandpa, Linda, because of things he has done, not just to get mad.”
I said, “I realize that, Rose. But we don’t know the explanation. There could be a reason. As soon as he does anything, you shoot first and ask questions later.”
“We were sitting right there. We would have taken him where he wants to go. He took the truck without asking. He snuck around.” She addressed this to Linda, an admonishment, a moral lesson.
“Rose, he thinks he has a right to everything. He thinks it’s all basically his.”
“Yes, he does.” She said this righteously,