Hick - Andrea Portes [59]
“Like it?”
“Um, I guess so.”
“Good.”
He snatches it out of my hand and before I know it, it’s round my neck.
Hot Stuff.
“I got it outside the Pincus Ranch, while you were snoozing away.”
He looks so proud and is acting so stupid I almost feel sorry for him.
“They got wild horses there, you know, maybe sometime we could go there. I could show you around.”
He winks now and I swear to God I woke up in a parallel universe. I’m starting to feel like maybe I died out there by the side of the road and this is some sorta stop-off before heaven, some netherworld precursor where you go to get all your ducks in a row before floating off to the great beyond.
There’s a knock at the door.
Eddie and I both look, caught. The fear in his eyes is that I’m gonna open my mouth and the fear in mine is that someone meaner and crazier is gonna walk through that door.
Eddie opens the door like a 1950’s housewife, all smiles and gesturing. Outside, the setting sun throws an orange light at the room.
“Well, hey there, Beau!” he says. “Didn’t think you got up to this neck of the trail much. Thought you’d be down in Reno.”
“Headed there.”
“How’s Karl?”
“Karl’s fine,” he says, shaking his head. “Well, he’s getting a little long in the tooth, so, it’s only a matter of time till—”
The man stops abruptly when he sees me, as shocked as I am shell-shocked.
This guy makes you want to run for cover. He must be six-foot-six, and his head shaved smooth, all around. He wears old-timey glasses, with black around the rim, like a science teacher, and he’s the tallest man I’ve ever seen close up, not counting television. Don’t be fooled by his big black boots and shaved head, cause he looks more like an overgrown baby or a big retard. There’s something about him that looks like a little kid that just got oversized in a nuclear accident.
He stares at me, sizing up the situation from outside the door, his silhouette framed by the amber dusk, behind. Before Eddie can get in his way, he pushes through to the foot of the bed.
“My name’s Beau,” he says. “This is my place.”
No one told him he’s in the wrong-size room. He makes the whole place look like a dollhouse.
“Um. My name’s Luli.”
“Hm. that’s an interesting name. So . . . you okay, Luli?”
Eddie steps in close behind him, staring me down. Beau sees me look past him and turns around, catching Eddie stew. There’s a second of just the two of them till Eddie breaks, stepping back, shirking. Beau strides across the room, purpose casual, and takes a seat in the green plaid chair, sitting back big.
“So, Eddie, how’re things back in Jackson?”
Eddie sits next to me on the bed. I can see his reflection in the mirror, trying to look kind-hearted, sensitive, but making sure to block the line of vision between me and Beau.
“Oh, well, Jackson’s Jackson, you know.”
Beau nods politely from his chair, stealing a glance at me every few seconds, trying to make eye contact. Eddie keeps adjusting and readjusting his place, blocking us off from each other.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love Wyoming. Love it. But every once in a while you just gotta get out there and—”
“These your pamphlets, mister?”
Eddie stops short, pissed that I’d have the gall, the gumption, in present circumstances, to interrupt. He forgot that I got sassy in my blood.
Beau smiles. “Yes, I believe they are.”
“You kill your own chickens?”
“Affirmative.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for them?”
“Negative.”
“Do you name them before you kill them?”
“Nope. I name them after.”
“Yeah. Lunch and Dinner,” I say, trying him out.
Beau smiles. it’s been a long time since I seen a smile like that, with nothing pushing on it to make it sneer or fade or squiggle. it’s been God knows how long since I’ve seen something pure without all the bells and whistles covering up something mean. And I know this because