shakes, buckled and sagged at the roof-beam, settling like supple-backed scaly old dragons into dense garments of blackberry vine. The dairy-farms, with their piss-rich hills of compost under the hot sun, packed a stench that was almost ethereal, the incense of a Natural Mystery, life’s metamorphosis into organic soup.
And the roadkill! Animals in impossible flat postures flashed by. They looked like Cubist dancers, all their three dimensions, teeth, spines, tails ribs and paws, presented in a single plane. The highway was like a long narrow battlefield starred with red smears whose very species her eyes recoiled from determining.
“Boy, the country is so real .”
“Rich, isn’t it?”
“Hey! Are those eagles up there? They’re so huge.”
“Actually, sweetie, they’re turkey vultures. Noble when aloft, but mo-fugly up close. Bald wrinkly red heads for rooting in carrion.”
As they entered Gravenstein, Karen pronounced it “a lot bigger” than it used to be and told Susan what was new to her: outlying “townhouse” developments for the upper-middle, two new gas stations going in, new office buildings… .
“Lemme just hook through here for a look before the drugstore.”
“I’m fine, Karen.”
It was the older residential half of town, blocks sunk in big old trees, with overflowing gardens and root-buckled sidewalks where tricycles lay toppled. “Most of my friends lived around here. Girls I really liked. But when I went to their houses, I’d wear out my welcome with their parents, I felt so safe there. It was always hard to leave, get on the bus home.”
They drove back to central Gravenstein to the drugstore and. in the store’s parking lot, applied their medical purchases. Susan stuck her leg out of the cab and Karen bound it with the Ace bandage as snugly as Susan could stand. “It’ll cut down on the throbbing once you’re used to it. I’ll get some ice for the pack at that liquor store.”
“And… get me more beer. It helps with the pain.”
A slight pause. “Beer it is.”
Their next stop was Fratelli’s Produce Emporium. Near the tracks, in an older-looking district of shiplap-sided houses and wooden power poles, Fratelli’s still thrived. They parked in its back lot. Outdoor produce-stands under broad, pole-propped awnings adjoined the big brick structure of the store itself, from whose back door, as if they’d evoked him, stepped a narrow-shouldered, big-middled man whose jet-black hair and moustache were thirty years younger than his face.
“By God, old Fratelli’s still clockin’ away. No, hey, just stay here with the ice on— ”
“Using it’s the quickest way to heal, how often have you told me that? I wanna meet him.”
The man stood at a kind of ceremonious attention as they approached. Karen glanced at the Ranier can in Susan’s free hand as she caned along, but Fratelli did not. “Karen Fox! Shame about Jack. Whaddya got for me?”
“Mr. Fratelli. It’s so good to see you… after so long.”
“You t’ink I was dead?” Mildly asked, but with no smile.
“Never. This is my friend Susan Kravnik.”
Only then did he look at her, the same calm, formal face. “A pleasure. Whaddya girls got?” The question sounded more searching to Susan the second time. As if he’d heard something about them, was alert for something. Susan smiled charmingly.
“Mr. Fratelli, what would we have?”
“Plums, Mr. Fratelli,” Karen put in. “And I thought— ” it seemed to strike her “— I could bring some apricots and peaches, if you wanted them.”
“Plums I gotta lot of. For good… fi’ bucks a flat. Apricots an’ peaches… from Jack’s brandy trees?”
Susan saw Karen blink. “Yes. The ones in the yard.”
“Those, I don’t gotta lot of. For good, thirty a flat.”
“That’s very generous.” Karen sounded a shade more remote. “So, come take a look at the plums?”
“I trust you. How many flats?”
“Twelve.”
Fratelli dug bills
And the roadkill! Animals in impossible flat postures flashed by. They looked like Cubist dancers, all their three dimensions, teeth, spines, tails ribs and paws, presented in a single plane. The highway was like a long narrow battlefield starred with red smears whose very species her eyes recoiled from determining.
“Boy, the country is so real .”
“Rich, isn’t it?”
“Hey! Are those eagles up there? They’re so huge.”
“Actually, sweetie, they’re turkey vultures. Noble when aloft, but mo-fugly up close. Bald wrinkly red heads for rooting in carrion.”
As they entered Gravenstein, Karen pronounced it “a lot bigger” than it used to be and told Susan what was new to her: outlying “townhouse” developments for the upper-middle, two new gas stations going in, new office buildings… .
“Lemme just hook through here for a look before the drugstore.”
“I’m fine, Karen.”
It was the older residential half of town, blocks sunk in big old trees, with overflowing gardens and root-buckled sidewalks where tricycles lay toppled. “Most of my friends lived around here. Girls I really liked. But when I went to their houses, I’d wear out my welcome with their parents, I felt so safe there. It was always hard to leave, get on the bus home.”
They drove back to central Gravenstein to the drugstore and. in the store’s parking lot, applied their medical purchases. Susan stuck her leg out of the cab and Karen bound it with the Ace bandage as snugly as Susan could stand. “It’ll cut down on the throbbing once you’re used to it. I’ll get some ice for the pack at that liquor store.”
“And… get me more beer. It helps with the pain.”
A slight pause. “Beer it is.”
Their next stop was Fratelli’s Produce Emporium. Near the tracks, in an older-looking district of shiplap-sided houses and wooden power poles, Fratelli’s still thrived. They parked in its back lot. Outdoor produce-stands under broad, pole-propped awnings adjoined the big brick structure of the store itself, from whose back door, as if they’d evoked him, stepped a narrow-shouldered, big-middled man whose jet-black hair and moustache were thirty years younger than his face.
“By God, old Fratelli’s still clockin’ away. No, hey, just stay here with the ice on— ”
“Using it’s the quickest way to heal, how often have you told me that? I wanna meet him.”
The man stood at a kind of ceremonious attention as they approached. Karen glanced at the Ranier can in Susan’s free hand as she caned along, but Fratelli did not. “Karen Fox! Shame about Jack. Whaddya got for me?”
“Mr. Fratelli. It’s so good to see you… after so long.”
“You t’ink I was dead?” Mildly asked, but with no smile.
“Never. This is my friend Susan Kravnik.”
Only then did he look at her, the same calm, formal face. “A pleasure. Whaddya girls got?” The question sounded more searching to Susan the second time. As if he’d heard something about them, was alert for something. Susan smiled charmingly.
“Mr. Fratelli, what would we have?”
“Plums, Mr. Fratelli,” Karen put in. “And I thought— ” it seemed to strike her “— I could bring some apricots and peaches, if you wanted them.”
“Plums I gotta lot of. For good… fi’ bucks a flat. Apricots an’ peaches… from Jack’s brandy trees?”
Susan saw Karen blink. “Yes. The ones in the yard.”
“Those, I don’t gotta lot of. For good, thirty a flat.”
“That’s very generous.” Karen sounded a shade more remote. “So, come take a look at the plums?”
“I trust you. How many flats?”
“Twelve.”
Fratelli dug bills
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