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By Root 379 0

in the eastern sky. He got out of the pickup and walked up the sidewalk onto the porch. Inside, the house felt empty and quiet. He hung his coat on its peg and went into the bathroom, then climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He turned the light on and everything there seemed quiet and desolate too. He looked around and finally sat down on the bed and pulled his boots off. He got undressed and put on his flannel striped pajamas and lay awake under the heavy blankets in the cold room, unable to sleep yet, thinking about the woman at the bar and about the old man and the boy, and he began to remember the time his brother was courting the woman in town and how that turned out. The moonlight was showing in the room, silver on the wall, and after a while he went to sleep, and in his sleep he dreamed of Victoria and Katie, knocking at the door of some house he didn’t recognize situated in some town he had never seen before in his life.

25

THERE WAS SNOW FALLING WHEN THEY CAME OUTSIDE Holt County Social Services at the rear of the courthouse in the evening. They had been in the long conference room for an hour, attending a class in the practice of parenthood, while Joy Rae and Richie played with the scarred tedious brightly colored toys in the waiting room and read the little broken-backed books, and during the hour they were all inside it had begun to snow. It was snowing hard now, piling up in the gutters along the street curbs and blowing up against the dark brick walls of the courthouse.

When they came outside, the children were wearing the cheap coats that were too big for them they had bought at the racks at the thrift store, and Betty had on an old calf-length red wool winter coat that was fastened in front with big safety pins. Luther wore only a thin black windbreaker, but he was warm even in that.

Hoo doggie, he said when they stepped out the door. Look at this snow.

We better hurry, Betty said. These kids is going to get cold.

They walked out away from the old high redbrick courthouse. Above them the tiled roof was obscured by the falling snow. They crossed Boston, and, as yet, there were no tracks in the street from any passing cars. The snow came down thickly under the corner streetlight and they went on. The children scuffed their feet, making long dragging marks, and began to fall behind.

Betty turned to look at them. You kids, come on now, she said. Hurry up. Catch up with us.

You ain’t allowed to talk that way, Luther said. You suppose to be nice to them.

I am. I don’t want them to catch cold. We never should of took them out here in this.

How was we going to know it would come on snowing while we was in there in that room?

Well, they ain’t suppose to be out in something like this. Come on.

The children kicked and scuffed along the sidewalks. The atmosphere in the silent town seemed all blue around them. The snow muffled any sound and no one else was out walking. A single car went by, without noise or commotion, a block away, moving at the intersection, stately and quiet as a ship sailing on some silent ghostly sea. They crossed Chicago, then turned up Detroit toward home.

At the trailer they climbed the snow-filled steps and entered the house and removed their shoes at the door and walked out into the room in their stockings. Richie’s had gathered in damp wads around his toes, and his thin heels were scarlet.

You kids get on to bed now and get warm, Luther said. Tomorrow’s school.

Here, Betty said. What was you just telling me about how to talk to these kids right? That teacher said you got to ask them what they want, not just say it.

Oh, yeah, Luther said. Joy Rae, honey, you want anything? You want you a bedtime snack before you go off to sleep?

I want some hot chocolate, Joy Rae said.

What about you, Richie?

I want some pop.

Is he suppose to have pop at night?

I don’t know what he can have, Betty said. She never said nothing about no pop. You just suppose to ask him.

I asked him. He said he wants pop.

What kind of pop?

What kind of pop you want, Richie? You want strawberry? We