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Eventide - Kent Haruf [105]

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to catch the belt. His sister began to scream too, and Hoyt turned and caught her by the nightgown, lifting it up, and began to whip her legs and thin flanks. He seemed crazed, whipping at both of them in an indiscriminate fury, his face contorted with drink and rage, his arm rising and falling, flailing at them, until Luther appeared in the bedroom doorway. Stop it, Luther shouted. You can’t do that no more, so just stop it. Hoyt turned and walked at him and Luther stepped back and he lashed Luther across the neck and Luther yelped and retreated hollering down the hall. Then Hoyt turned on the children again and went on whipping them until he was sweating and panting. Finally he slammed the door and walked back to Joy Rae’s bedroom at the end of the hall.

When he was gone the two children crawled into the bed, crying and sobbing, scarcely able to breathe, and rubbed at their legs and buttocks. Their legs burned and throbbed. Some of the welts were bleeding. In the brief silence between their sobs they could hear their parents wailing from the room down the hall.

THE NEXT MORNING HOYT HAD LUTHER AND BETTY AND Joy Rae and Richie sit in the living room on the couch. He switched on the television and pulled the heavy window curtains shut. The light from the TV flickered in the shadowy room.

At noon he told Betty to make something to eat, and when she’d heated the frozen pizza he made them sit together at the table. Nobody said anything, and only Hoyt ate very much. After this silent meal he forced them back into the living room where he could watch them.

Once in the long afternoon a car drove up and stopped out front in Detroit Street. When he heard the door of the car shut Hoyt looked past the edge of the curtains, and a sheriff’s deputy was walking up the path toward the door, then the deputy knocked and Hoyt cursed between his teeth. He motioned Betty and the two children back to the bedrooms and hissed at Luther to answer the door. Get rid of him. And you goddamn better remember what I said.

Luther went out onto the porch and talked and answered a few questions in his slow manner. Finally the deputy left and Luther came back in and shut the door. Hoyt came out of the hall and watched through the curtains as the car drove off. Then he sat them down on the couch again, to watch television. In the evening he forced them to their beds and in this way the second night passed in the trailer.

The next morning in the gray dawn he was gone. They came out of their bedrooms and discovered that he had vanished without a sound.

AT DAYBREAK HOYT HAD WALKED ACROSS TOWN TO ELTON Chatfield’s house. He had waited at the curb beside Elton’s old pickup until he came out, then caught a ride with him to the feedlot east of Holt. At the feedlot he entered the office and stood at the desk where the manager was talking on the phone to a cattle buyer. The manager looked up at him and frowned and went on talking. After a while he hung up. What are you doing in here? he said. You’re suppose to be riding pens.

I quit, Hoyt said.

What do you mean you quit?

I come to draw my pay.

The hell you have.

You owe me for two weeks. I’ll take it now.

The manager pushed his hat back on his head. You don’t give much notice, do you. He took out a checkbook from a middle drawer and started to write.

I’ll take it in cash, Hoyt said.

What?

I want cash. I don’t need a check.

Well, I’ll be goddamned. You expect me to come up with cash on a Monday morning.

That’s right.

What if I don’t have no cash?

I’ll take what you got.

He studied Hoyt closely. Where you running off to, Hoyt?

That ain’t none of your business.

Some woman chasing you? he said. He took out his wallet and removed what few bills there were and dropped them forward onto the desktop. Now get your ass out of here.

Hoyt stuffed the bills in his pocket. How about giving me a lift over to the highway? he said.

You want a ride?

I want to get over to the highway.

You better start in to walking then. I wouldn’t give you a lift to a goddamn dog fight. Get the fuck out of here.

Hoyt

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