Philipp Meyer - American Rust

Isaac was standing in the corner with his arms still crossed. Poe went over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax,” Poe told him, but even to him his voice sounded strained and uneven and Isaac wouldn't look at him. “You want a beer?” Isaac still wouldn't look at him. He turned back to Lee. She was dancing. She danced with a fat older man in his baggy church suit, sweat pouring down his face, it was Frankie Norton's dad, Frankie who was still away at Lehigh. Then she danced with a freckled kid who looked about fifteen and then a guy in Marine Corps dress blues who was taking it a little easier. Lee and the marine danced for a while, it seemed like a long time, he twirled her around slowly. Poe hated this song it was Faith Hill, he hated new country. The marine tried to put his white hat on Lee, being playful. Then Frankie Norton's dad came back and handed her two beers and Lee stopped dancing and pushed her way back to Poe. He could see the marine sizing him up from across the room and then the marine turned away, Poe saw he had a scar across the back of his head where the hair didn't grow, a surgery scar. They had done something inside his head. After graduation a lot of people had signed up and three kids from the Valley had been killed in the last month alone. One of them was a girl he'd fooled around with, she was a little weird, everyone thought she was a dyke. He'd fooled around with her a few times but he hadn't defended her. She was driving a truck and an IED got her, it was what got all of them over there. All she'd done was join the Reserve. He hoped the Arabs that did it were dead, hoped they'd been gutshot by some hucklebuck sniper who'd grown up with a deer rifle in his hand, hoped those Arabs thought they were safe and meanwhile that sniper was judging his windage and boom — they were holding in their guts. Christ, he thought, what happened, a second ago you were happy.

Lee handed his beer over and said: “They wouldn't let me pay for drinks.”

“You got that on someone's SSI,” Isaac told her. “Or their welfare.”

Lee got a look on her face. Poe wanted to throw Isaac through the window. She opened her mouth to say something but the marine had come over next to her. He didn't look more than twenty or twenty- one, short brown hair that looked as soft as a boy's, acne on his neck and temples.

He said: “You ain't gonna sit out long, are you.”

“I'm finished dancing,” Lee told him.

“Come on.”

“I came to see my friends here.”

He looked over Poe. Then he took her hand up lightly.

“No, thank you,” she said.

Poe stepped in front of her, squaring himself to the marine.

“Husband to the rescue, huh?”

“That's right,” said Poe.

“Except you ain't her husband.”

“Yes he is,” Lee said.

“Bullshit he is.”

“Go back to your friends,” said Poe.

“We're leaving,” Lee said.

The marine took a step forward but Poe was already backing away. Then the marine kept walking after him but he stumbled on something and went over hard. He was drunk. He began to shout something from the floor, just lying there shouting. Poe kept backing up. Lee and Isaac were already out the door.

Poe backed away without taking his eye off the marine, people were starting to notice, the kid's medals were flopped awkwardly on his pressed blue coat. Poe felt bad for him, stand up, he thought, just stand up. Then he noticed something strange, one of the kid's legs was twisted and longer than his other leg, Poe saw something shiny underneath and he felt all the heat go out of him, and kept looking at the leg, where the sock didn't cover it, it was pale brown plastic with a steel bolt for the ankle and Poe couldn't stop looking at it, his head felt light, you might have hit that kid, he realized, in the old days you might have hit him and for a second he thought he'd pass out, there was a slight space in the crowd and Poe shoved people aside and pushed through to the door.

Outside a state trooper was parked and Poe steadied himself against the wall but someone was already in the back of the car in handcuffs and the cop was writing. Christ he thought something is happening to your life, your mistakes are piling up. He wondered how he'd never seen it before. And now the thing in the factory with those bums. He had to get out of this place, away from this town. He had thought he would be okay staying here but it was the opposite, people had tried to tell him but he hadn't listened. He couldn't remember where Lee had parked, he'd only had two beers but his head was spinning. There was an ambulance at the other end of the street, its back doors wide open, bright inside, two people being treated. He saw Lee and Isaac waiting. They had Lee's car idling in the street when he got there and Poe checked as he got into the car, a half dozen men had come out of the bar looking for him.

“Took your sweet time,” said Isaac.

“That guy had a fake leg.”

“You didn't punch him,” Lee asked.

“I didn't touch him,” Poe said. “Jesus Christ.”

“Good thing we had that drink,” said Isaac.

“I'm sorry,” Lee said. “I shouldn't have talked to him for so long.”

“It's not your fault.”

“The fuck it's not,” Isaac said.

Isaac was quiet the rest of the way home. When Lee parked he got out and went inside without looking at either of them. Poe and Lee watched Isaac go and then looked at each other and he braced himself for her to say good night. He would walk home. He needed to get his head clear.

“Do you want to come in for a drink or something,” she said.

He hesitated for a long time. “Alright.”

She squeezed his arm gently. “You can't stay over, though.”

“I won't.”

They sat on the back porch on the couch with a blanket over them, faces cold but the rest of them warm, they could hear a stream running down to the ravine where it met the other stream and then the river. And from there, he thought. From there it met the Ohio and the Ohio met the Mississippi and then down to the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic, it was all connected. It's all connected, he thought. It all meant something. He drank more wine. He was just drunk.

It was warm under the blanket, they were holding hands and he closed his eyes and let the feeling sink in. There was a dark patch where the neighbor's yard began, it was a thicket now, the empty house obscured by brush.

“When I left, someone still lived there,” said Lee. “Pappy Cross.”

Poe finished the bottle of wine, held it above his lips for the last drops. It was a new moon, a dark night, it seemed like anything could happen, it felt like the old days, he wondered if he was just kidding himself.

“We might as well talk about it.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” she said.

“It's fine.”

She laid her head against his shoulder.

“It's the same one from before, isn't it?”

“Simon.”

“The one who was with all those other girls?”

“I'm sorry. I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

“He changes his mind so everything's different. That's pretty much the story.” He didn't know why he was saying these things, they were having a good time, from the way it was going he guessed there was a good chance she'd sleep with him if he would just pretend it was like the old days, like he forgave her.

She tensed and it was quiet for a while but then she said: “There's a reason I was with him in the first place, you know, he wasn't all bad. Anyway, now that we're married, they feel better about helping to take care of my father. Things are about to get easier for all of us.”

“Hope you got that in writing.”

“Poe.” She shook her head. “Poe, you have no idea how easy it is for you to say that.”