Cormac McCarthy - Cities of the Plain

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VOLUME THREE OF THE BORDER TRILOGY In Cities of the Plain, two men marked by the boyhood adventures of All the Pretty Horses and The Crossing now stand together, between their vivid pasts and uncertain futures, to confront a country changing beyond recognition. In the fall of 1952, John Grady Cole and Billy Parham are cowboys on a New Mexico ranch encroached upon from the north by the military. On the southern horizon are the mountains of Mexico, where one of the men is drawn again and again, in this story of friendships and passion, to a love as dangerous as it is inevitable. 'In a lovely and terrible landscape of natural beauty and impending loss we find John Grady; a young cowboy of the old school, trusted by men and horses, and a fragile young woman, whose salvation becomes his obsession. McCarthy makes the sweeping plains a miracle' Scotsman 'This haunting, deeply felt novel completes one of the literary masterworks of the 1990s' Daily Telegraph 'The completed trilogy emerges as a landmark in American literature' Guardian

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Spoke like a gentleman.

The bidding was stalled at eight and a half. The auctioneer took a drink of water. This is a nice horse, boys, he said. You're way off on this one.

The rider rode the horse down and turned it and came back. He rode it with no bridle but only a rope looped around its neck and he turned and sat the horse. I'll tell you what now, he called. I dont own a hair on him but this is a gaited horse.

It'll cost you a thousand dollars to breed to his mama, said the auctioneer. What do you say boys?

The spotter raised his hand.

I got nine got nine got nine. Now half half half. Nine and a half. Now half. Niner and now half.

Can I say somethin, said John Grady.

I wish you would.

You aint buyin him to sell, are you?

No, I aint.

Well then I think you ought to get the horse you want.

You think a lot of him.

Yessir.

Oren shook his head and leaned and spat. Mac sat looking in his book.

He's goin to cost me no matter what I do, one way of lookin at it.

The horse?

No, not the damn horse.

The bidding went to nine and a half and then a thousand.

John Grady looked at Mac and then looked out at the arena. I know that old boy up yonder in the checked shirt, said Mac. I do too, said Oren.

I'd like to see em buy back their own horse.

I would too.

Mac bought the horse for eleven hundred dollars. Put me in the damn poorhouse, he said.

That's a good horse, said John Grady.

I know how good a horse it is. Dont go tryin to make me feel better.

Dont pay no attention to him, son, said Oren. He wants you to brag on his horse only he's just a little backwards about it is all.

What do you think old highpockets cost me on that trade?

Probably didnt cost you nothin on that one, Oren said. He might be fixin to cost you on the next one though.

The groom was wetting down the dust in the barn with a waterhose. They brought in the fourhorse string and Mac bought them too.

Like a thief in the dark, called the auctioneer. Number one of four. Sold at five and a quarter.

That could of been more painful than what it was I reckon, Mac said.

Skippin through the raindrops.

Yep.

He watched the groom lead the next horse out.

You remember this horse, John Grady.

Yessir. I remember all of em.

Mac thumbed his notes. You get in the habit of writin everthing down and after a while you cant remember nothin.

The reason you started writin stuff down in the first place was cause you couldnt remember nothin, Oren said.

I know this little horse, said Mac. I'd sure like to sell him to Wolfenbarger.

I thought you was goin to leave him be.

He could start a circus.

This is a smoothmouthed horse about eight year old, called the auctioneer. A good usin horse and a good ropin horse and he's worth quite a bit more than what you got him started at.

He needs to buy that horse. It'll do about anything except travel in a straight line. Ought to suit him right down to the ground.

The rider rode the horse hard up and back before the stands, closereining the horse and doubling back.

Five five five, called the auctioneer. This is a good horse, boys. Guaranteed to be sound. Work close like that. Like a cat in a stovepipe, folks. Now half now half now half.

Mac tugged at his ear. Five and a half now six now six now six, called the auctioneer.

Oren looked disgusted.

Hell, said Mac. We can have a little fun with the old boy cant we?

The bidding went to seven. The owner stood up in the stands. I'll tell you what, he said. If you can make him go through the bridle I'll give him to you.

The bidding went to seven and a half, it went to eight.

John Grady did you hear about the preacher that sold the old boy the blind horse?

No sir.

He was always justifyin everthing with scripture. They come around wantin to know how he could do the old boy thataway and he told em, said: Well, he was a stranger and I took him in.

I think you told me that.

Mac nodded. He thumbed his notes.

He didnt know how to bid on that string. I think it just confused him.

Yessir.

He's ready to buy a horse.

He might be.

You a poker player, son?

I've sat in a time or two, yessir.

You think this horse will sell for under a thousand?

No sir. I kindly doubt it.

If it does bust a thousand what will it go to?

I dont know.

I dont know either.

Mac bid the horse to eight and a half and then to nine and a half. There it stopped. Oren leaned and spat.

What Oren dont understand is that the more money that nedhead is got in his pockets the more that Welburn horse is goin to cost me.

Oren understands that, said Oren. He just thinks you ought to go on and buy the horse for what the bid is and not risk not havin the money to do it with. Anyway, that sumbuck's got more money than Carter has liver pills.

The spotter raised his hand.

I got ten got ten got ten, called the auctioneer. Now eleven now eleven.

The horse went to eleven and Wolfenbarger bid it to twelve and Mac bid it to thirteen.

I aint responsible, said Oren.

The man's a horsebuyer.

You remember what the horse was bid in at?

Yeah. I remember.

Just go on then.

Old Oren, Mac said.

Wolfenbarger bought the horse for seventeen hundred dollars.

Fine piece of horseflesh, said Mac. Ought to suit him just about right.

He reached in his pocket and took out a dollar.

Why dont you run get us some Cokes, John Grady.

Yessir.

Oren watched him climb down through the stands.

You think he'd tout you off of a horse as well as he would on?

Yes. I do.

I think he would too.

I wish I had about six more just like him.

You know there's things about a horse he can only say in spanish?

I dont care if he only knows em in greek. Why?

I just thought it was curious. You think he's from San Angelo?

I think he's from wherever he says he's from.

I guess he is.

He learned it out of a book.

Out of a book?

Joaqu'n says he knows the name of ever bone a horse has got.

Oren nodded. Well, he said. He might at that. I know some things that he didnt learn out of no book.

I do too, said Mac.

The next horse they brought out the auctioneer read from the horse's papers at some length.

I believe this here is a biblical horse, Mac said.

Aint that the truth.

The horse was bid in at a thousand dollars and went to eigh?teen five and was a no sale.

Oren leaned and spat. Man thinks a lot of his horse, he said.

The man does, said Mac.

They trotted in the Welburn horse and Mac bought him for fourteen hundred dollars.

Boys, he said. Let's go home.

You dont want to stick around and spend some more of Wolfenbarger's money?

Wolfenbarger who?

SOCORRO FOLDED and hung her towel, she untied and hung her apron. She turned at the door.

Buenas noches, she said.

Buenas noches, said Mac.

She shut the door. He could hear her winding her old tin clock. A little later he heard the faint ratcheting sound of his fatherinlaw winding the tallcase clock in the hallway. The glass doorcase closed softly. Then it was quiet. It was quiet in the house and it was quiet in the country about. He sat smoking. The cooling stove ticked. Far away in the hills behind the house a coyote called. When they had used to spend winters at the old house on the southeasternmost section of the ranch the last thing he would hear before he fell asleep at night was the bawl of the train eastbound out of El Paso. Sierra Blanca, Van Horn, Marfa, Alpine, Marathon. Rolling across the blue prairie through the night and on toward Langtry and Del Rio. The white bore of the headlamp lighting up the desert scrub and the eyes of trackside cattle floating in the dark like coals. The herders in the hills standing with their serapes about their shoulders watching the train pass below and the little desert foxes stepping into the darkened roadbed to sniff after it where the warm steel rails lay humming in the night.

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