Kent Haruf - Eventide

But you know he can’t stay here if he does anything like that. Don’t you see? You have to make him leave.

Rose, he’s my uncle. He’s my mother’s baby brother.

I understand that. But he still can’t stay here. It doesn’t matter who he is. You know better.

I was trying to make him stop, Luther said. But he says he’s going to break my back for me. He’s going to take that kitchen table and throw it on me just as soons I turn my head.

Oh, I don’t think he’s going to do that. How could he?

That’s what he says. And you know what I says?

What?

I says I can find me a knife too.

Now you better be careful about that. That would only make matters worse.

What else you want me to do?

Not that. You let us take care of this.

But Rose, Betty said, I love my kids.

I know you do, Rose said. She turned toward Betty and took her hand. I believe that, Rose said. But you’ve got to do better. If you don’t, they’ll have to be taken away.

Oh no, Betty cried. Oh God. Oh God. The blanket fell away from her shoulders and she jerked her hand free and began to snatch at her hair. They already taken my Donna away, she cried, and then she started to wail. They can’t take no more.

Betty, Rose said. She pulled at her arms. Betty, stop that and listen to me. Calm down now. We are not taking your kids away. It shouldn’t ever come to anything like that. I’m just trying to get you to see how serious this is. You have to do things differently. You have to change what you’ve been doing.

Betty wiped at her face. Her eyes were wet and miserable. Whatever you say, Rose, I’ll do it. Just don’t take my kids away from me. Please, don’t do that.

What about you, Luther? Are you willing to make some changes too?

Oh yes, ma’am, he said. I’m going to change right now.

Yes. Well, we’ll see about that. In any case you can start taking some parenting classes at night at Social Services. I’ll arrange for it. And I’ll come by here at least once a month to see how you’re doing. I won’t tell you when I’m coming, I’ll just show up. This will be in addition to your coming to my office to collect your food stamps. But the first thing, the most important thing, is that you have to agree not to let him stay here anymore. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?

Yes ma’am.

Do you promise?

Yes, Betty said. I promise.

I just hope he don’t break my back, Luther said. Quick’s he hears what we been talking about here today.

WHEN THE SHERIFF’S DEPUTY WALKED INTO THE LONG dim stale room at the Holt Tavern on the corner of Main Street and Third, Hoyt Raines was at the back shooting pool for quarters with an old man, and he had already begun drinking for the day. A glass of draft beer stood on the little table near the pool table, with an empty shot glass beside it and a cigarette smoking in a tin ashtray. Hoyt was bent over the table when the deputy walked in.

Raines?

Yeah.

I need to talk to you.

Go ahead and talk. I can’t stop you.

Let’s go outside.

What for? What’s this about?

Come out with me, the deputy said. I’ll tell you at the station.

Hoyt looked at him. He bent over the cue stick, lined up his shot, and knocked the seven in and said to nobody: Hoo boy. Hot dog. He stood and rounded the table and took a sip of his beer and drew on his cigarette.

Let’s go, Raines, said the deputy.

You ain’t told me what for yet.

I said I’d tell you when we get there.

Tell me now.

You don’t want other people to know about what I got to tell you.

What the fuck’s that suppose to mean?

You’ll know when we get there. Now let’s go.

The old man leaned back against the wall, looking from the deputy to Hoyt, and the bartender stood watching from behind the bar.

Well, if this ain’t the goddamn shits, Hoyt said. I’m shooting pool here. He drank from his glass. He looked at the old man. You owe me for this game, and the one before.

It ain’t over yet, the old man said.

Yeah it is. It’s close enough.

I was coming back on you.

You was coming back, my ass.

And this one would of put us even.

Listen, you old son of a bitch. There’s no way you was going to win this game and you still owe me for the last one.

Let’s go, the deputy said. Now.

I’m coming. But he still owes me. You all seen it. He owes me. I’ll see you boys this afternoon.

He downed the rest of the beer and set the glass on the table and sucked on the cigarette once more before stubbing it out. Then he walked out ahead of the deputy. On the sidewalk he said: You got your vehicle?

Waiting on you, around the corner.

They went around to Third Street and got in and the deputy drove two blocks to the reserved parking lot on the east side of the county courthouse. He led Hoyt down the concrete steps to the sheriff’s office in the basement, where they took him behind the front counter to a desk and charged him with misdemeanor child abuse and read him his rights. Then they booked and printed him, and afterward they led him back through a little corridor to a small windowless room. After they sat him down at a table, the deputy who’d picked him up switched on the tape recorder while another sheriff’s deputy leaned back against the door, watching.

He claimed he was teaching them discipline. He did not try to deny it. He thought well of himself for it. He told them it was the right thing. He said he was putting order into their lives. Now when do I get out of here? he said.

There’ll be a bail hearing scheduled within seventy-two hours, the deputy said. What did you whip them with?

What?

You whipped them with something. What was it?

Let me ask you something. You ever seen those kids? Walking around town? They need discipline, wouldn’t you say? And you think their folks are ever going to do it? I don’t think so. They don’t know how. Wouldn’t even know where to start. So I was doing them a favor. All of them. They’re going to thank me someday. You have to have discipline and order in this life, isn’t that right?

That’s what you think? You believe that?

Goddamn right I do.

And you think an eleven-year-old girl and a six-year-old boy need to be physically abused to learn discipline?

It didn’t hurt them. They’ll get over it.

They’re in pretty bad shape right now. They look real bad. We have pictures to prove it. How long have you been doing this?

What are you talking about? That was it. One time. It’s not like I enjoyed it. Is that what you think?

You’re sure about that.

Yeah. I’m sure. What have they been saying about me?

Who?

Those kids. You’ve been talking to them, haven’t you?

What did you hit them with?

You’re still on that.

That’s right. We’re still on it. Tell us what you used.

What difference does it make?

We’re going to know.

All right. I used my belt.

Your belt.

That’s right.

The one you’re wearing right now?

I never used the buckle end. Nobody can say I used the buckle. Is that what they’re saying?

Nobody’s saying anything. We’re asking you. We’re not talking to anybody else right now. We’re talking to you. You used something else too, didn’t you.

I might of used my hands a couple of times.

You hit them with your hands.

I might of.

You used your fists, you mean. Is that what you’re saying?

Hoyt looked at him, then at the other deputy. What if I smoke in here? he said.

You want to smoke?

Yeah.

Go ahead. Smoke.

I don’t have my cigarettes. They’re out there in the front. Let me borrow one off of you.

I don’t think so.