Ларри Макмертри - The Last Picture Show

"If you'll sit in that booth I'll keep you company," she said.

Sonny was quick to obey. The steam from her coffee rose between them as he ate his cheeseburger. The window by the booth was all fogged over, but the misted glass was cold to the touch, and the knowledge that the freezing wind was just outside made the booth seem all the cozier. Genevieve sat quietly, her hands on the coffee cup; the warmth against her palms was lovely, but it made her a little too nostalgic for all the winter nights she had spent at home, sleeping against her husband. Then her whole body had felt as warm and comfortable as her palms felt against the cup.

"Your Dad was in a few minutes ago," she said, raising her arm to tuck a strand of black hair back in place. "Guess I just missed him," Sonny said quickly. "Where'd you hide?" she asked, giving him a perceptive grin. Her teeth were a little uneven, but strong. Sonny pretended he hadn't understood her and tried to think of a way to change the subject. Charlene was the only thing that occurred to him.

"I guess you'll have to be my girl friend now," he said. "Me and Charlene broke up tonight."

"It was about time. I better take advantage of the situation while I can. Come on back in the kitchen and have a piece of pie while I do some dishwashing."

Sonny gladly went with her, but he' was painfully aware that she was only joking about being his girl friend. He sat in a chair and ate a big piece of apricot pie while Genevieve attended to a sinkful of dishes. For a minute, lost in her work, she forgot Sonny completely and he felt free to watch her. Gallons of hot water poured into the sink and working over it soon had her sweating. Her cheeks and forehead shone with it; there were beads on her upper lip, and the armpits of her green uniform darkened. The errant strand of hair hung over her forehead when she bent to fish the knives and forks out of the water. As always, Sonny found himself strongly affected by her. Sweat, if it was Genevieve's, seemed a very intimate and feminine moisture. Even Jacy didn't affect him quite as strongly; beside Genevieve, Jacy seemed strangely diminished, and apparently Jacy knew it. She always made Duane take her to the drive-in rather than the café when they ate together.

When Genevieve finished her dishes she glanced over at Sonny and saw that he seemed rather melancholy.

"Honey, you shouldn't be down in the mouth about Charlene," she said. "You put up with her long enough. She didn't even have a good disposition:"

"I ain't blue about her," Sonny said, handing her the pie dish.

When she asked him why he was blue, he shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was blue because he wanted her and knew he would never have her, but that wasn't something he could talk about. "There ain't nobody to go with in this town," he said finally. "Jacy's the only pretty girl in high school, and Duane's got her."

Genevieve squeezed out her gray dishrag. "I'd call that his tough luck," she said. "She'll bring him more misery than she'll ever be worth. She's just like her grandmother. Besides, I doubt Lois and Gene want her marrying a poor boy."

"What's the matter with them?" Sonny asked. "Why do they think everybody has to be rich?"

"Oh, I don't guess they do," Genevieve said. "I oughtn't to even talk about them. We were all good friends once. Gene and Dan roughnecked together when we first moved here and we all went to dances together. Lois' mother had disowned her and she and Gene were livin' in a little old room place over the newspaper office. She couldn't even afford a flour-sack apron, much less a mink coat."

Genevieve untied her own apron, which was damp from having been pressed against the sink. She,stared at the floor a moment, her look full of memory.

"I'll always have a soft spot for Lois," she said. "Lois is some woman. Gene just never could handle her. Since he started making his strikes we haven't seen much of one another. When folks get rich all of a sudden it makes them feel sort of guilty to be around folks who've stayed poor."

"I hate people like that," Sonny said.

Genevieve sighed and got herself a fresh apron. "You oughtn't to," she said. "It's perfectly natural. I've always wondered what would have happened if Dan had bought the rig and made the strikes. They offered that rig to Dan first. In fact, Gene Farrow tried to get Dan to go partner with him on it, but when it comes to money Dan Morgan never took a chance in his life. If we had made the money we might be just as touchy about it now as they are. It can change people, you know."

Sonny looked at her curiously. He could not imagine Genevieve rich.

"Do you wish you all had made it?" he asked.

"Oh sure," she said, smiling tiredly. "I wish we'd made it."

Sonny handed her a ten-dollar bill in payment for the cheeseburger.

"Your Dad give you this?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I never take money from him if I can help it. He needs all he's got.'

Genevieve frowned, and Sonny nervously began popping toothpicks out of the toothpick machine. "It wouldn't hurt you to take a little something from him once in a while," she said. "You're the only boy I know who won't even let his own father give him money."

But Sonny had his mind on other things. "I hear Dan's goin' back to work soon," he said. "I guess you'll be quittin' work before long."

Genevieve slapped at his hand to make him let the tooth-picks alone, but she was touched by the question. Of all the boys who had crushes on her, Sonny was her favorite. Also, he had the worst crush, and was the most vulnerable. She watched a moment as he walked over to the brightly lit jukebox and stooped to catch his reflection in the shiny plastic dome. He got out his pocket comb and began to comb his brown hair. He was so young and so intent on himself that the sight of him made her feel good about life for a moment; she almost wanted to cry, and since her husband's accident that was something she only dared do in moments of optimism.

"Honey, we got four thousand dollars' worth of doctor bills to pay," she said finally. "I'll probably be making cheeseburgers for your grandkids."

Sonny shoved his comb back in his hip pocket. Four thousand dollars in debts was something he couldn't really imagine; it was a misfortune, of course, but somehow he felt lighter about things. He went back and got one more toothpick to show Genevieve he wasn't intimidated.

She ignored him and drew herself another cup of coffee. It was such a cold night that there probably wouldn't be any more customers until the bus came through at 3 A.M., and then it would only be the bus driver. The only time anyone ever got on or off in Thalia was when some soldierboy was coming home on leave or else going back to his base. The two hours before the bus came were the loneliest of the night.

"See you," Sonny said. "If I knew how to cook I'd stay and substitute for you:"

Genevieve was idly peeling the polish off a fingernail, while her coffee cooled. "If you knew how to cook I'd let you," she said.

When he got within a block of the rooming house, Sonny killed his motor and let the pickup coast up to the curb. Sometimes just the sound of a pickup would waken Old Lady Malone. He tiptoed in, trying to miss all the squeaky boards. When Old Lady Malone woke up she always came slopping down the hall in her dead husband's house shoes to tell Sonny to be sure and turn out his fire. Then she frequently went in the bathroom and made bad smells for half an hour.

His room was discouragingly cold, and smelled dusty.

Things always smelled dusty after the wind had been blowing for a day or two. He considered reading for a while, but there was nothing there to read except a couple of old Reader's Digests and a few sports magazines. He had read them all so many times he had them practically memorized.