Joe Lansdale - Lost Echoes

“I’m fine, sir. Thanks for having me here.”

“Quite all right. Bird’s good. So is everything, but the turkey, it’s to die for. Black people are such good cooks, and I’ve got three or four of them to do the kitchen business. Got to circulate. Host and all. You know how it is. Nice to meet you. Nice suit.”

“Thanks.”

John went away, and so did Talia. Harry found himself standing in the middle of the room, not knowing where to put his hands. Men and women danced around him in their fine clothes, like drunken moths a-spin beneath a bright night-light.

Harry went over to the food counter, which was as long as the room, looked to see what was there.

A black woman in a maid outfit appeared at his elbow. “May I help you, sir?”

“Just looking.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you suggest?”

“It’s all good.”

“You know the cook?”

“I am the cook. Me and three others.”

“That’s quite a staff.”

“We cook and wait, us three. You add the whole staff together, all the people work here, there’s about twenty. That way, the folks live here don’t have to do a lick of work…. I didn’t mean that—”

“Oh, that’s all right. Don’t worry about it. I’ll have some chicken, a diet cola.”

The maid fixed Harry a plate, gave him napkins and silverware. Harry glanced around for Talia, didn’t see her. He went outside and watched people dance out there. He found a metal table and a metal chair, sat down, and ate his chicken. When he was finished he wiped his fingers on the napkin and went back inside.

No sooner was he in the door than a woman in a bloodred dress grabbed his elbow. “You all alone?” she said.

She was a very nice-looking woman, maybe forty, with too-red hair and a fine build and a good face full of Botox.

“No. I’m with Talia. She lives here.”

The woman laughed. “She certainly does. Some of the time. I’m her mother.”

“Oh, glad to meet you,” Harry said, and held out his hand.

“I’m Julia,” she said, and took his hand and held it softly. Her eyes looked just like Talia’s eyes. “I’m a little drunk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t ‘ma’am’ me. Makes me feel so old. Let’s dance.”

“I’m no good. Don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.”

Harry shook his head. “I think that would be a waste of your time.”

“Oh, there you are.” It was Talia.

“Hello, dear,” Julia said. “I was trying to steal your date.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Talia said. Mother and daughter sparred with their eyes.

“I’ll just get a drink now,” Julia said. “You two enjoy. And show the boy how to dance. He says he doesn’t know how.”

Julia, like a bloodied bird, glided away on the light and the music, dancing as if with a partner.

“She’s quite charming,” Harry said.

“She’s a bitch,” Talia said. “She’d fuck you, you know? That’s how she is.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He was beginning to feel as if the world was not in fact round, but awkward-shaped and rare of gravity and hard to stand on.

“But don’t feel too proud,” Talia said. “She’s fucked the waitstaff before. Both the men and the women. Whoever was willing and didn’t mind a little extra money.”

Harry looked in the direction of the waitstaff, standing by the counterful of food.

“All of them?”

“No. She fucks them, pays them, and fires them. This is a new lot. Some of them won’t appeal to her. Though she has a taste for almost anybody.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that either, but it didn’t exactly swell his pride.

“Let’s get a drink,” Talia said.

“I don’t drink.”

“Just tonight.”

“I made a promise to someone.”

“For me.”

“Nope. Not even you. I’ll have a soda, some iced tea maybe.”

“You’re starting to be a bit of a stick-in-the-mud.”

They got drinks, Talia a beer, him a soda, and pretty soon they were dancing. Harry wasn’t good at it, but Talia helped by dancing very close and giving him pointers. Before long she was back at the bar, getting another drink. As the night wore on and she drank more, her dancing got wilder. By midnight she was riding his leg like a horny dog.

Once, over by the food counter, Harry saw one of the boys he had seen that day on campus with Talia. Kyle. That was his name, When Harry turned back to Talia, he saw she was watching the boy as well, and he felt a little twist inside. Nothing big, just a little one, like a washerwoman had twisted a wet rag sharply to wring out the water.

“Let’s get some air,” he said. “Out back, away from the band.”

“All right. Oh, I’m tipsy.”

“Honey. You’re drunk.”

“Just a little.”

They went out the back way, through the big carport, and looked about. The stars lay down on the tips of the pine trees and the glow from the front field lights fled over the top of the house and dissolved into a silver film before reaching the trees.

“There’s a place I want to show you,” Talia said. “It’s kind of cool.”

“We’re leaving?”

“No. It’s out back, down the wooded trail. I used to play there. It’s a kind of a root cellar, or storm cellar. Not that we need one or use it for that. But Mom and Dad liked the idea, and it was a playhouse for me. When I got older, Daddy took it over.”

She took his hand began leading him across the yard, toward the woods. “He goes there to get away from my mother. He and some of his friends go there to play cards. Or used to. He hasn’t been there in ages now.”

“Won’t it be kind of worn down? Dangerous?”

“It was well made. Sealed tight so water doesn’t get in. Oh, shit.”

Talia tripped. Harry caught her.

“Maybe I did drink too much,” she said.

“Just a little. You’re not full-fledged drunk. You want to go back?”

“No. Not at all. Come on.”

The shelter was out in the woods. It was standing partially out of the ground, made of thick concrete. The entrance looked like a tomb.

Talia took hold of the door handle and tugged.

Nothing happened.

“It’s a little heavy and I’m a little drunk.”

Harry pulled. It slid back smooth and easy. “It’s been recently oiled. I can smell it.”

“Like I said, Daddy keeps it up.”

“Don’t we need a flashlight?”

“It has electricity.”

Talia reached inside and hit a switch and the place lit up. It wasn’t a bright light, but it was light. It hung down on a long black cord, and there was a bulb contained within wire mesh, and the light through the mesh made the room appear as if it were contained within a spiderweb. The light showed a drop of stairs, and Harry could see a bed against one wall, and he couldn’t see much else.

They left the door open, and as they went down he was surprised to discover it was quite roomy. There was even a bookshelf and some books. There was a doorway that led somewhere. There were spiderwebs, and one wall was crumbly. A roach ran under their feet, and Talia made a noise and jumped.

“I can stand snakes, spiders,” she said, “but I can’t stand a roach. Oh, I’m dizzy.”

Talia sat on the narrow bed.

“What’s through the door?”

“The generator. Runs on kerosene. There’s a toilet too. It’s got a big septic tank. You wouldn’t believe. Daddy wanted to make sure everyone got to shit. A lot.”

“Kerosene?”

“It’s old-style.”

Talia patted a place beside her. Only a little dust came up.

“Your dress is going to get dusty, and this suit you bought me.”

“We’ll dust each other off. If you know what I mean.”