Kent Haruf - Eventide

He got up and walked to a nearby table where a fat man was sitting with two women and drew out a chair and sat down. He said something and they laughed. Linda May was watching him closely.

You sure you’re all right? Raymond said.

She turned back. Yes. Why?

No reason, I reckon. I think I’ll head on home.

You just got here.

Yes ma’am, I know.

But is something wrong?

There ain’t nothing wrong. This is the best of all possible worlds, ain’t it.

I don’t understand. What did you come here for? What did you think was going to happen?

I don’t think I had any clear idea about that. I just kind of thought I’d come in and have a drink and see if you was here.

But where have you been? It’s been almost two months.

I got kind of busy.

But my God, did you think I was waiting for you? Is that what you thought? Don’t you know anything?

No ma’am. I don’t believe I do. He stood up out of the booth. Anyway, you take good care of yourself now.

Raymond?

It’s been nice to see you, he said.

He reached for his glass and his hat and walked away. He drank down the rest of the beer and set the glass on the windowsill next to the front door and pulled his hat down tight over his head as though he were expecting high winds and stepped outside. He’d been in the tavern for no more than fifteen minutes.

He walked up the wide sidewalk along the dark storefronts and climbed into his pickup and drove south out of town. There was no car or other vehicle out on the highway. At home he parked in the garage and walked back across the graveled drive.

When he reached the wire gate he stopped and stood looking back toward the horse barn and the cow lots. Then he raised his head and peered up at the stars. He spoke aloud. You dumb old son of a bitch, he said. You dumb old ignorant stupid son of a bitch.

Then he turned again and went through the gate up into the dark quiet house and pulled the door shut behind him.

SHE WAS SIXTEEN NOW AND BETTY NOR LUTHER HAD seen her in the twelve years since she was taken away by court order and placed in a series of foster homes in Phillips. A tall ripe-looking blonde girl with a loose-boned body and blue eyes like her mother’s, she had her father’s long thin nose and square face. Her father was not Luther. She had never known her father and had no desire to. He was living in the Idaho State Prison, serving a ten-year sentence for assault and armed robbery. Betty had met him in that long-ago summer when she was just twenty-two and still loose-boned and ripe herself, and he’d disappeared after spending only a single month with her. No one in Holt County had seen or heard from him since. Betty had given their daughter her maiden name, Lawson, and her own dear dead mother’s two first names, Donna Jean.

The girl showed up one night toward the end of March at Luther and Betty’s trailer house three hours after they’d gone to bed. She stood at the door in the cold until Luther came out in his ragged underpants. What you want? he said.

I’m Donna, she said.

Who?

Donna. Don’t you even know me?

She stood looking at him, wearing only a thin black raincoat against the cold and no scarf or gloves. She smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap wine.

Donna, he said.

Yeah.

How do I know that’s you?

Well fuck yes, it’s me. Who else would it be? Let me in. It’s freezing out here. Isn’t my mama at home?

She’s here. She’s trying to get her sleep.

Wake her up. I ain’t going to do nothing. I got kicked out. I have to find a place to stay for the night.

I guess you can come in.

He stood back and allowed her to pass and the tall blonde girl stepped into the front room and peered about. Luther went back to the bedroom and woke Betty.

What is it? she said.

You better get up and come look.

What for?

Come out here and see.

Betty rose from bed and put on her robe and walked out sleepily to the front room. Don’t tell me, she said, looking at the girl. Is that you?

It’s me, the girl said.

Oh Lord. Oh my little girl. Betty rushed across the room and threw her arms around her and hugged her neck. The girl stood stiffly in her arms. Betty began to sob, patting her head. Oh my God. Oh my God. She leaned back to look at her. I ain’t seen you in so long. And look at you. So growed up. I just been hoping. Praying every day. Ain’t I, Luther.

Yes, ma’am, he said. Sometimes more than once.

What happened? Betty said. I tried calling you but that last woman you was with, she wouldn’t even let me talk to you.

I got kicked out, the girl said. She stepped back away from Betty’s arms.

She got kicked out, Luther said. That’s how come she showed up here. Looking for her mama.

I need a place to stay, the girl said. That’s why I come here.

You still ain’t said what happened, honey.

It’s that woman, the girl said. She’s just a total bitch. It’s all she is. She wouldn’t let me do nothing. I had to go to church with them all the time and then she tried to stop me from seeing Raydell.

Who’s he?

This boy I know.

What’s wrong with him?

There ain’t nothing wrong with him. She’s just prejudiced. He’s half black and half white. She didn’t appreciate his black half.

Where’s he at now? Is he here?

Here? What would he be doing here? He’s back in Phillips. He lives there.

Then how’d you get over here, honey?

I got a ride from this man in a truck. I was out there on the highway waiting for a ride, freezing my ass off.

I don’t think you should be out this time of night. Something could happen to you.

What’s going to happen?

Something.

Oh, he never tried nothing. I wouldn’t even let him get started.

It’s still dangerous like that to be out in the cold this time of night.

What else was I going to do? I thought you’d let me stay for a while.

Oh honey, course you can stay. It’s just so good to see you. Are you hungry? You want me to make you a bite to eat?

I want to smoke one of my cigarettes.

You smoke?

Sure.

Betty looked around. But we don’t usually let nobody smoke in here, she said. On account of Joy Rae and Richie.

Who’re they?

You don’t even know, do you. Your own half sister and half brother.

I never even heard their names before.

Well, that’s who they are. You got family you didn’t even know about.

That’s right, Luther said. You got all kinds of family here. He grinned. But you two going to want to stay up and talk. Me, I’m going back to bed.

When he left the room Betty took the girl’s hand and led her to the kitchen table. Why don’t you sit down here a minute. At least let me make you something hot to drink. I know you got to be thirsty.

The girl looked around the kitchen. This is a mess, she said.

I know that, honey. But you’ll hurt my feelings if you talk like that. I been sick.

Well, it is.

I’m going to clean it up. Betty removed a few dirty dishes to the counter and stacked some in the sink, then she set a jar lid in front of the girl.

What’s that for?

You go ahead and smoke if you only going to smoke a little. It’s your first night, honey. I’m just so glad you come home.

SHE MOVED IN AND SLEPT THAT FIRST NIGHT ON THE couch in the front room. In the morning they introduced her to Joy Rae and Richie. The two children looked at her with suspicion and said nothing to her. After they left for school, she went back to sleep until noon, and then took a shower while Betty made lunch.

The girl soon grew bored in the trailer and went out and walked downtown in the bright cold windy afternoon in her black raincoat and wandered into the stores. She loitered in Weiger’s Drug and at Schulte’s Department Store she looked at clothes hanging from the metal pipe racks. She tried on a long pink evening gown with a low-cut bodice while a nervous clerk watched her. The dress suited her tall body and made her look older and more sophisticated. For a long time she studied herself in the mirrors, turning to see how the dress looked from the side and the back, holding her hands as she had seen women do in magazines, then she took off the dress and put it back on the hanger and handed it to the woman. I changed my mind, she said. I wouldn’t care for it. She went outside again and crossed Second Street and walked up to the middle of the block to Duckwall’s.