Of course, she said. DJ watched her walk away to another table.
As the old men around the table began to talk, the boy drank some of his coffee, then set the cup beside his chair on the floor and ate a few of the corn chips and took his math assignment from his coat pocket and got out a pencil and laid the sheets of paper on his lap. One of the old men said: Speaking of people getting cut on, and began to tell a story about a man he knew who couldn’t get his equipment to work anymore, so he and his wife went to the doctor. The doctor examined him and then presented him with a sterile needle and vial of fluid to inject into the skin alongside his business, just before he and his wife tried again, and told them to come back afterwards and say how it all went. The couple came back a week later. How’d it go? the doctor said. The man said: Pretty good, it stayed up for forty-five minutes. So what’d you do, the doctor said, and the man said: Well, we did what you’re suppose to, you know. Then after we was finished I went out to the front room and set down on the couch, watching TV and eating salted popcorn, waiting for it to go down again so I could go to bed. The doctor turned to the man’s wife. That must have been pretty good for you too, he said. Like hell, she said. He only had enough wind for five minutes.
DJ listened until his grandfather began telling the story of the Korean War veteran working on the railroad tracks one winter in the cold country south of Hardin Montana. DJ had already heard this one, and he went to work on the math papers he held in his lap. His grandfather’s story was altogether different from the one he’d just heard, and he wasn’t much interested in hearing about some vet chasing his foreman around with a shovel.
THE BARMAID CAME BACK AFTER A TIME AND BROUGHT another glass of whiskey to his grandfather, then left and came back with another round for the others. After the old men paid her, she leaned close to the boy and said softly: Why don’t you come up here with me?
Up where?
Up to the bar. That way you’ll have a place to work on your papers. You can write better up there.
Okay, he said. He stood up next to his grandfather. I’m going up to the bar, Grandpa.
Where?
To the bar. Where I can do my problems.
You behave yourself up there.
I will.
DJ followed her through the room past the men and women who were all talking and drinking, and at the bar she had him climb onto one of the high stools at the corner and he spread his math assignment out on the polished surface. She set his coffee cup and the corn chips beside him.
The bartender came over. Who’s this we got here?
My friend, she said.
He’s a little young to be drinking at a bar, don’t you think?
You leave him alone.
I’m not bothering him. Why would I bother him? I just don’t want him getting us into trouble.
He won’t get us into any trouble. Who’s going to complain?
They better not. But it’s your responsibility, if they do.
Don’t worry about it.
I ain’t going to worry. They don’t pay me enough to worry about shit like this. The bartender looked at her and moved away.
She smiled at DJ and went around behind the bar and brought a steaming glass coffeepot and refilled his cup. Don’t pay any attention to him, she said. He always has to talk.
I don’t want you to get in trouble.
This? she said. This isn’t trouble. I could tell you what trouble is. Don’t you want some sugar in your coffee?
No thank you.
No milk either?
No. I like it this way.
Well, I just expect you’re sweet enough. I have a boy myself, only a little younger than you, she said. He’s a sweet thing like you are. I’ll see him tomorrow. She stood across the bar, holding the coffeepot.
Doesn’t he live with you? he said.
He lives with his daddy. It was better that way. You know, until I got settled.
Oh.
But I sure do miss him.
DJ watched her face. She smiled at him.
But now what about you? Where’s your daddy and mama?