Cormac McCarthy - Suttree

Look at what?

Down here. Looky here.

Suttree had to lean back and look under the table where this grinning fool was holding pinched in his hand so just the corner showed a twenty dollar bill.

What the hell are you hiding it for? Is it counterfeit?

Shhh. Hell no son, it’s good as gold.

Who’d you hit in the head?

Old buddy, we goin to take this to the tong games and come off with some real money.

We better get our ass down to the bus station is what we better do.

Honey, bring him a cup of coffee.

He said he didnt want none.

Suttree slumped back in the booth.

Bring him some, said Reese, waving a piece of cornbread. He’ll drink it.

They stood in the street under the small lamps. A deathly quiet prevailed over the town.

I wisht it wasnt summer and we could go to the cockfights, Reese said. He sucked his teeth and looked up and down the street. Got to find us a goddamned taxi. He patted his little paunch and belched and squinted about.

Let me have a nickel and I’ll go in and call one.

Reese doled the coin easily. Suttree wore a look of dry patience. He went in and called the taxi.

When it arrived Reese opened the front door and hopped in and was whispering loudly to the driver. Suttree climbed in the back and shut the door.

Let me just take you fellers on up to the Green Room, the driver was saying. You can get anything you want up there.

What do you say, Sut?

Suttree looked at the back of Reese’s head and then he just looked out the window.

Course you can go anywhere you want, said the driver.

Daggone right you can, said Reese. When ye got the money to do it with. He turned and favored Suttree with a sleazy grin.

What kind of whiskey you boys want? You want bonded or some real good moonshine?

Is it real good sure enough?

Bonded, said Suttree from the back.

They were going by narrow back streets in the small town suppertime dark, by curtained windowlights where families sat gathered. Suttree rolled down the window and breathed the air all full of blossoms.

The driver took them up a gravel drive to the back of an old house. A yellow bulb hung burning from the naked night above them. The driver got out and a man came from the door and the two of them went across the yard and behind a garage. When they came back the driver was holding a pint of whiskey down by the side of his leg.

He got in and palmed the whiskey to Reese. Reese held it to the light and studied the label professionally as he unscrewed the cap. They went back down the driveway with Reese’s head thrown back and the bottom of the bottle standing straight up.

Get ye a drink, he wheezed, poking the bottle over the seat at Suttree.

Suttree drank and handed it back.

Reese held the bottle up and eyed it and held it under the driver’s chin. Get ye a drink old buddy, he said.

The driver said he didnt drink on duty.

They drove out through the small streets and struck the highway, Reese and Suttree passing the bottle back and forth and Reese giving the driver a history of himself no part of which was even vaguely true.

Say you all never been to the Green Room? said the driver.

We aint been up here in a long time, said Reese.

They got some little old gals up here will do anything. They’d as soon suck a peter as look at ye.

Reese was elbowing the dark of the cab behind him vigorously. You hear that, Sut? he said.

They went out the highway several miles and turned onto a side-road that had one time been the highway. At the top of the hill stood a squat cinderblock building with neon piping along the roof. The windows were painted black and one of them was broken and fixed back with blocks of wood stovebolted through the holes. There was an iron pole in the drive with a beersign hung from the crosstrees and perhaps half a hundred cars parked in the gravel. The cabdriver switched on the domelight and looked at Reese.

What we owe ye, old buddy?

Let me have five. That’ll get the whiskey and everthing.

Reese paid and they stepped out into the gravel. The taxi slewed about in a cloud of dust and flying stones and went back out to the highway. Reese tucked in his shirt and hitched up his trousers and seized the doorhandle to make his entrance but the door was locked.

Ring the buzzer, said Suttree.

He pushed the button and almost immediately the door opened and a man looked at them and stepped back and they entered.

A concrete floor, a horseshoeshaped bar upholstered in quilted black plastic, a gaudy jukebox that played country music A few sloe-eyed young whores in stage makeup and incredible costumes, ballroom gowns, bathing suits, satin pajamas. They lounged at the bar, they sat in the booths by the wall, they danced with clowns dressed up like farmers wooden clown dances in the shifting jukebox lights. Through a door to the rear Suttree could see thicker smoke yet and the green baize of gaming tables.

Godamighty damn, said Reese reverently. Looky here.

Suttree was looking. He’d been in places like this but not quite. A whole new style seemed to be seeking expression here. They crossed to the bar and were immediately set upon by whores. A blackhaired girl in a chiffon dress with a train that followed her about the floor sweeping up the cigarette butts had Suttree by the elbow. Hidy cutie, she said. Why dont you buy me a drink? Suttree looked down into a pair of enormous painted eyes dripping a black goo. A pair of perfectly round white tits pushed up in the front of her gown. You’ll have to see this man here, he said. He’s the last of the big spenders.

She immediately turned loose of Suttree and got hold of Reese’s arm even though there were two other girls hanging onto him. Hidy cutie, she said. Why dont you buy me a drink?

I’ll buy ye’ns all a drink quick as I get done at the tong table, cried Reese.

The bartender was standing at the ready and Suttree held up one hand and caught his eye. He raised his chin to know what Sut would have.

Bourbon and gingerale, said Suttree.

Where you all from, honey? said a blonde who appeared out of the smoke.

Suttree looked at her. Web City, he said.

You’re a smart son of a bitch, aint ye?

He watched Reese at the cardtable until he became bored and went back out to the bar. But the whores had thickened and he got another drink and went back into the gambling room again. Reese seemed to have won some money and Suttree tapped him on the shoulder to get some quarters and dimes for the slotmachines. The dealer raised up and eyed him narrowly and told him to back off from the table if he wasnt playing. Reese handed him two dollars over his shoulder and Suttree took the money and went into another room and got change from a lady at a cardtable by the door. There were eight or ten slotmachines along the walls and several young men in dark gabardine shirts and their heads almost shaven were feeding money to the whores and the whores were operating the machines. Suttree won about seven dollars and went back out to the bar and got another drink. He was beginning to feel a little drunk. He bought the blackhaired girl a drink and she took him by the arm and they sat in a booth at the far wall and she immediately ordered two more drinks from a waitress dressed in a swimsuit and black net stockings. The black-haired girl put her hand on Suttree’s leg and got him by the neck and ran her tongue down his throat. Then she stuck her tongue in his ear and asked him if he wanted to go out in the back.

Reese came reeling through the smoke and the din with a painted childwhore on his arm. She had an eyetooth out and smiled with her cigarette in her mouth to hide the gap.

Looky here, Sut.

Hidy.

Aint that a purty little old thing?