Tim O’Brien - Northern Lights

‘You’ll forget yourself, Harv. Let’s go see about Grace’s supper.’

‘Grace is such a good sort.’

‘Come on.’

‘And the Arrowhead, another big A. You have to think about all this stuff. When you think about it, it’s awfully interesting. You have to think about all the adventurous places that go back to the first letter of our alphabet. Think of Afghanistan. Think of Algiers and Atlantis and Allen-town. Aruba and Athens. Athens, Lordy. I’d love to go to Athens. We ought to go. Just pull out of this burg and go.’

Grace came to the porch.

‘You’re really an extraordinary sort,’ Harvey said. ‘You must be American.’

‘Through and through,’ she laughed. ‘Come have supper.’

‘Full-breasted American, I like that. You don’t see many full-breasted Americans in Africa. Will you go to Africa with us?’

‘Oh, yes. I’ll start saving for it.’

‘You have to start talking my brother into it. Paul is very down on Africa. Paul is actually very down on the big A, you know. He didn’t pay attention as a kid. Didn’t listen to the old man, and look where it’s got him. Doesn’t respect the big A! Grace, you’ll have to persuade him to join us. Otherwise, well, we’ll run off together, how’s that? We’ll capture inchworms. Have ’em stuffed and mounted on the walls. Brother Paul loves stuffed inchworms and all other of God’s bugs. Don’t you? Sure. Brother Paul is actually quite religious. Learned it from the old man, right?’

‘Sure.’

‘Just like you loved the old man, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Let’s eat,’ Grace said.

She guided them inside, lit candles and snapped out the lights. She served supper.

‘Inchworms!’ said Harvey. ‘My God, how did you know? My favourite.’

Afterwards Harvey wanted to go into town. Grace stayed home, Perry drove. Harvey was already tight, drinking beer from an aluminium can. It was a clear night, and the sky was high and the headlights lit a narrow tunnel through the woods. Along the road there were crickets and mosquitoes.

‘I’m home,’ Harvey said.

‘Sure.’

‘I am. I’m really home.’

The town was small, a few quiet campfires in the fog, and the forest grew everywhere, to the edge of town, into the vacant lots, on to lawns, brush and high pine. Perry drove around the sawmill hub and out to Franz’s Glen. Cars and pickup trucks filled the parking lot. ‘I’m home, all right,’ Harvey said. ‘Make me behave.’

‘I will.’

‘What the hell do I say?’

‘Tell them you’re a hero.’

‘Perfect!’ Harvey grinned and mashed the aluminium can in his hands. ‘Just like the old days.’

‘Sure.’

‘Everything’s the same, right?’

‘Exactly.’

The tavern was crowded. Addie was there. She was with a group of young people, young to Perry. On the floors there was red sawdust and spilt beer.

Addie saw them and waved.

‘Same place,’ said Harvey.

‘Never changes.’

A Hamms sign revolved behind the bar. In the corner a jukebox was playing loud music, and Addie was dancing with a stupid-looking boy. She Was barefoot. Everyone was happy. The old men sat at the bar in brown cotton pants and flannel shirts buttoned at the wrists, and the kids were all at Addie’s table, and others sat at the tables and booths, a middle group of married people, the in-betweens and stalwarts. The jukebox was very loud.

‘It’s the same,’ Harvey grinned. ‘This is a very lecherous place. Don’t ever let your kids come here.’

‘Right.’ Perry watched Addie dance. She was a fine dancer. She smiled while she danced and he liked that. He didn’t care much for the fellow she danced with. No matter, though. Addie waved again and Perry grinned and waved back, and a young waitress with a beehive hairdo brought them tall bottles of beer. Harvey took her hand and told her she had a lot of class.

‘Perfectly exquisite,’ Harvey said when she left. ‘Very tight-assed and exquisite. Someday she’ll be a virgin, I’m sure.’ His face was turning red.

‘Awfully young, Harv.’

‘I’m young. Who says I’m not young?’

Addie was dancing with a new partner. The place was noisy, Saturday night. She held her sandals while she danced. Bishop Markham and Herb Wolff and another fellow were playing pinball machines under a giant walleye that hung on a wall.

Harvey asked the waitress to sit down.

‘We’re having a great homecoming party,’ he said, ‘and you have to join us. Really. You’re a very classy girl, you know. Exquisite and quite classy.’

She was very young. She had no expression. She was somebody’s daughter. ‘I seen your picture in the papers,’ she said, staring at his bad eye.

‘Ah, and very observant, too. Classy and observant.’

‘I seen your picture,’ she said. ‘Who are you anyhow?’

‘A dentist,’ Harvey smiled. ‘This is my assistant Dr Watson. We pull teeth. I might add that we do a very classy job of it, cut rate. Two for a buck. You might have seen our ads in the paper.’

‘Prob’ly,’ the waitress said.

‘So,’ Harvey smiled. ‘Why don’t you just sit with us awhile and tell us your life history. I’m sure it’s classy.’

‘Can’t,’ she said. She gave his bad eye a last look and wiggled towards the bar.

They sat and drank the beers and watched the groups move about. Perry cleaned his glasses. The jukebox kept playing and the place was loud with bottles and music.

‘Hey, it’s Harvey! Hey, Harvey, for Christ sake!’

It was Bishop Markham. Herb Wolff trailed after him, both of them grinning. They shook Harvey’s hand, and Bishop beamed and ordered beers all around.

‘Where the blazes you been hiding, boy?’

‘Here and there and nowhere.’

‘Sonofagun! Well, let me say we’re proud of you,’ said Bishop, holding up his glass. ‘Really proud. Really . You’ve heard it before and you’ll hear it again, we’re proud.’ Bishop wore a bow tie and crew cut. ‘You really made it, Harvey. And you look like a million bucks. Seriously. Doesn’t he look good?’

Wolff nodded fiercely. ‘He looks terrific. You look absolutely terrific, Harv. By God, I’d say you look like a million bucks.’

Addie was still dancing, a slow number. Her new partner had red hair. Her face was in his red hair.

‘Crummy war,’ Bishop was saying, ‘but you did yourself proud, Harvey. I mean it. A goddamn war hero! I remember …’ and he talked about Harvey’s football days. Bishop was a classmate of Perry’s. Now he sold life insurance and real estate and sat on the Chamber of Commerce and the draft board and chaired the Kiwanis Club. He loved to talk.

Perry went outside for air. When he returned, Bishop Markham and Wolff and the others were playing the pinball game. Harvey was with the young waitress. The place was frantic and loud. Addie was still with her crowd, they were all dancing. He stood alone until the music ended and Addie came up.

‘Hey,’ she said. Her face was brown and wet. ‘Not awfully fond of dancing, are you?’

‘No. Where did you get all those jolly young friends?’

‘Oh, them. They’re all right. The Whole lot is from Silver Bay and they love to dance. Franz is going to play his accordion and we’re all going to dance polkas.’

‘Wonderful.’

‘Sure.’

‘I saw you at the lake,’ he said.

‘Ah,’ she smiled. ‘Yes. I waved. Did you see my wave?’

‘I saw.’

‘You were playing a peeping tom, weren’t you? You were out there spying.’

‘I happened along.’

Addie took his arm.

‘How’s the dancing?’

‘It’s okay. You haven’t been in the library. You’re going to go illiterate. I’ve been saving all these books for you.’