Deliverance - James Dickey [39]
them, the taller one, narrowed in the eyes and face. They came forward, moving in a kind of half circle as though they were stepping around something. The shorter one was older, with big white eyes and a half-white stubble that grew in whorls on his cheeks. His face seemed to spin in many directions. He had on overalls, and his stomach looked like it was falling through them. The other was lean and tall, and peered as though out of a cave or some dim simple place far back in his yellow-tinged eyeballs. When he moved his jaws the lower bone came up too far for him to have teeth. "Escaped convicts" flashed up in my mind on one side, "Bootleggers" on the other. But they still could have been hunting. They came on, and were ridiculously close for some reason. I tried not to give ground; some principle may have been involved. The older one, looming and spinning his sick-looking face in front of me, said, "What the hail you think you're doin'?" "Going downriver. Been going since yesterday." I hoped that the fact that we were at least talking to each other would do some good of some kind. He looked at the tall man; either something or nothing was passing between them. I could not feel Bobby anywhere near, and the other canoe was not in sight. I shrank to my own true size, a physical movement known only to me, and with the strain my solar plexus failed. I said, "We started from Oree yesterday afternoon, and we hope we can get to Aintry sometime late today or early tomorrow." "Aintry?" Bobby said, and I could have killed him, "Sure. This river just runs one way, cap'n. Haven't you heard?" "You ain't never going to get down to Aintry," he said, without any emphasis on any word. "Why not?" I asked, seared but also curious; in a strange way it was interesting to cause him to explain. "Because this river don't go to Aintry," he said. "You done taken a wrong turn somewhere. This-here river don't go nowhere near Aintry." "Where does it go?" "It goes ... it goes ..." "It goes to Circle Gap," the other man said, missing his teeth and not caring. "'Bout fifty miles." "Boy," said the whorl-faced man, "You don't know where you are." "Well," I said, "We're going where the river's going. Well come out somewhere, I reckon." The other man moved closer to Bobby. "Hell," I said, "we don't have anything to do with you. We sure don't want any trouble. If you've got a still near here, that's fine with us. We could never tell anybody where it is, because you know something? You're right. We don't know where we are." "A stee-ul?" the tall man said, and seemed honestly surprised. "Sure," I said. "If you're making whiskey, well buy some from you. We could sure use it." The drop-gutted man faced me squarely. "Do you know what the hail you're talkin' about?" "I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "You done said something about makin' whiskey. You think we're makin' whiskey. Now come on. Ain't that right?" "Shit," I said. "I don't know whether you're making whiskey or hunting or rambling around in the woods for your whole fucking life. I don't know and I don't care what you're doing. It's not any of my business." I looked at the river, but we were a little back from the bank, and I couldn't see the other canoe. I didn't think it could have gone past, but I was not really sure that it hadn't. I shook my head in a complete void, at the thought that it might have; we had got too far ahead, maybe. With the greatest effort in the world, I came back into the man's face and tried to cope with it. He had noticed something about the way I had looked at the river. "Anybody else with you?" he asked me. I swallowed and thought, with possibilities shooting through each other. If I said yes, and they meant trouble, we would bring Lewis and Drew into it with no defenses. Or it might mean that we would be left alone, four being too many to handle. On the other hand, if I said no, then Lewis and Drew -- especially Lewis -- might be able to ... well, to do something. Lewis' pectorals loomed up in my mind, and his leg, with the veins bulging out of the divided muscles