Well, I can sure listen anyhow. If you want to try.
The boy turned to look out the side window, the headlights shining ahead on the dark road. Then all at once he began to talk. It came pouring out of him, about the fight at the tavern and about the man hurting the barmaid and his grandfather. And he was crying now. Raymond drove on and the boy kept crying and talking. After a while he stopped, he seemed to have spent himself. He wiped at his face.
Is that pretty much all of it? Raymond said. Was there anything else you wanted to tell?
No.
Did he hurt you?
He was hurting her. And Grandpa.
But they’re all right now. Is that what you think?
I guess so.
What about him? Did he get hurt?
He was bleeding.
From where you hit him with the bottle?
Yes sir.
How bad was it?
I don’t know. His face was pretty cut up.
Well. He’ll probably be all right. Don’t you think?
I don’t know if he will or not.
RAYMOND DROVE ON A WAYS FARTHER, THEN THEY CAME back into town. At Shattuck’s Café he pulled in under the canopy and without asking he ordered them each a hamburger and a black coffee and then turned to look at him.
Do you reckon he’d do anything else to you or your grandfather?
I don’t even know who he is.
What did he look like?
He was kind of tall. With dark hair.
That could be any number of people.
They called him Hoyt something.
Oh, Raymond said. Hoyt Raines then. I know who he is. Well, you stay clear of him.
I don’t want him to hurt that woman.
I doubt if he’d try again. Did they kick him out?
Yes.
Then he probably won’t be allowed to go back in there. But you let me know if he bothers you again. Will you promise me to do that?
Yes sir.
All right then.
They finished their hamburgers and coffee and the girl came and took away their tray.
You think you’re about ready to go home now?
Yes.
Raymond backed out onto the highway and drove up through town and stopped at the little house where he’d let the boy and his grandfather out months ago. The boy started to get out.
Son, Raymond said. I’m just wondering here, but do you think you would want to help me some? I could use a hand on the weekends.
Doing what?
Doing whatever needs doing. Working around the ranch.
I guess I could.
I’ll give you a call. How about next weekend? How would next Saturday suit you?
It’d suit me fine.
You’d have to get up early.
What time?
Five-thirty. You think you could do that?
Yes sir. I always get up early.
All right. You take care now. Get yourself some sleep. I’ll give you a call next week.
The boy got out and went up to the house. Raymond sat watching him until the door closed, then drove home. He drove out south and by the time he turned off the highway onto the gravel road he was thinking again about Rose Tyler.
41
LUTHER AND BETTY WALLACE WOKE TO A SUDDEN pounding on the front door. Who’s out there? he called.
It’s Donna, Betty said. She come back to us.
Maybe it ain’t her, Luther said.
She climbed out of bed and called: Donna, I’m coming, honey.
They went down the hallway, Luther in his underwear, Betty in her worn yellow nightdress, and when Luther opened the door Hoyt Raines shoved violently into the room.
No! Betty cried. You can’t come in here. Get back.
Shut up, Hoyt said. He stood before them, his face ragged and blood-smeared, his ear still bleeding a little, his eyes glassy. You two are going to help me whether you like it or not. Those sonsabitches over at the tavern— You get out of here, Luther said. Just get out.
Goddamn you, Hoyt said. He hit Luther in the chest and Luther stepped backward and sat down all at once on the couch. I got no damn place else to go, Hoyt said.
You can’t stay here, Betty said. They won’t allow it.