pool?"
"Yep.
There's a big cattle tank out behind the barn. I say we clean the sucker out
and fill it up."
Vic
laughed and nearly dropped his beer. "A cattle tank?"
"It'll
hold water," Nolan said. "And if I can get the young genius to show
me where the pump and the hose is, we'll have—"
"Who?"
Vic interrupted.
"Cal.
Didn't Miss Myra tell you her son is a walking talking high school
graduate?"
"Must've
slipped her mind," Vic said as he returned to the swing. "No
shit?"
"Little
fart nearly swindled me out of a radiator for that Mustang in the barn. Hey, I
looked at the Lincoln, too. If Mom says okay, Cal is going to show me to the
nearest auto salvage tomorrow. I think we can put another gas tank on that big
sonofabitch without too much trouble. That's the only thing wrong with it that
I can see."
Vic gave
a sudden, bitter laugh. "I can't believe you, Wulf. Why the hell don't you
leave? I would, in your position. There's no reason for you to stay here and
put up with this sweltering, miserable shit. You brought us here, and I
appreciate it, but you don't have to stay and be miserable with us."
Nolan
swatted another fly. Vic wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.
But he'd feel like a jerk if he left now. The way things looked, Vic had left
deep shit for even deeper and Nolan wouldn't feel right about abandoning him
until he at least had some wheels and a way to leave if necessary. And he was
sure it would be necessary. From what he could see, Vic's dad had been
something of a nut. The one crazy in the county who didn't plant crops for a
living. There was no way for Vic to survive out here. No way Nolan could see.
He'd have to put the place up for sale and take what he could get.
"Hey,"
he said. "Unless you're kicking me out, I'll leave when I'm ready, okay?
When that goat over there starts looking good I'll adios my ass out of
here."
Vic
laughed again. "She already looks good to me."
Nolan
glanced over and saw Myra coming up the drive toward them. "Miss Myra or
the goat?"
"Forget
it," Vic said, suddenly sober. "I'm not ready for that. I don't even
want to talk about it."
Nolan
nodded and fell silent as he watched Myra's approach. She was carrying a basket
of vegetables. Her gaze briefly took in Nolan's bare torso and legs before she
turned to Vic. "Here are the tomatoes I promised. And some beans, squash,
and radishes."
"Thanks"
Vic stood and put down his beer to take the basket from her. He paused then.
"Uh, how do I fix the beans and squash?"
She
smiled and Nolan took a closer look. Her eyes were much bluer than his own, her
hair a little sandier. Her boy looked just like her, but Cal's height had to
have come from his father's side. Myra was only three or four inches over five
feet. And, he had to admit, she looked pretty good when she smiled.
"I
can show you what to do when you're ready to use them," she said to Vic.
"Good,"
he said. "The girls think I'm a dunce in the kitchen as it is. You want a
beer?"
She
hesitated then finally nodded. "Sure. Are the kids still in the
barn?"
"Yeah."
Vic handed her a beer from the cooler. "I'll just take this stuff in. Be
back in a minute."
When the
screen door slammed behind Vic, Myra glanced uncomfortably at Nolan.
He
smiled with pleasure at her unease. "Want some help with that bottle,
Myra?"
"No,
I can get it," She bit the scab on her lower lip as she unscrewed the top.
Nolan propped his beer on his stomach and began to hum.
"Your
bandages need changing," she observed.
He
glanced down. "Are you volunteering?"
"No.
What happened?"
"I
played jump rope too long."
A light
of scorn entered her eyes. "Cal said he talked to you today. I understand
you were a fire—"
"Speaking
of Cal," Nolan interrupted. "I'd like to take him with me tomorrow
and let him guide me to a few salvage yards. We may be able to find a gas tank
for the Lincoln and a radiator for that Mustang."
"No,"
she said.
“Why?”
"Because
I can't afford a radiator and I don't want
"Yep.
There's a big cattle tank out behind the barn. I say we clean the sucker out
and fill it up."
Vic
laughed and nearly dropped his beer. "A cattle tank?"
"It'll
hold water," Nolan said. "And if I can get the young genius to show
me where the pump and the hose is, we'll have—"
"Who?"
Vic interrupted.
"Cal.
Didn't Miss Myra tell you her son is a walking talking high school
graduate?"
"Must've
slipped her mind," Vic said as he returned to the swing. "No
shit?"
"Little
fart nearly swindled me out of a radiator for that Mustang in the barn. Hey, I
looked at the Lincoln, too. If Mom says okay, Cal is going to show me to the
nearest auto salvage tomorrow. I think we can put another gas tank on that big
sonofabitch without too much trouble. That's the only thing wrong with it that
I can see."
Vic gave
a sudden, bitter laugh. "I can't believe you, Wulf. Why the hell don't you
leave? I would, in your position. There's no reason for you to stay here and
put up with this sweltering, miserable shit. You brought us here, and I
appreciate it, but you don't have to stay and be miserable with us."
Nolan
swatted another fly. Vic wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.
But he'd feel like a jerk if he left now. The way things looked, Vic had left
deep shit for even deeper and Nolan wouldn't feel right about abandoning him
until he at least had some wheels and a way to leave if necessary. And he was
sure it would be necessary. From what he could see, Vic's dad had been
something of a nut. The one crazy in the county who didn't plant crops for a
living. There was no way for Vic to survive out here. No way Nolan could see.
He'd have to put the place up for sale and take what he could get.
"Hey,"
he said. "Unless you're kicking me out, I'll leave when I'm ready, okay?
When that goat over there starts looking good I'll adios my ass out of
here."
Vic
laughed again. "She already looks good to me."
Nolan
glanced over and saw Myra coming up the drive toward them. "Miss Myra or
the goat?"
"Forget
it," Vic said, suddenly sober. "I'm not ready for that. I don't even
want to talk about it."
Nolan
nodded and fell silent as he watched Myra's approach. She was carrying a basket
of vegetables. Her gaze briefly took in Nolan's bare torso and legs before she
turned to Vic. "Here are the tomatoes I promised. And some beans, squash,
and radishes."
"Thanks"
Vic stood and put down his beer to take the basket from her. He paused then.
"Uh, how do I fix the beans and squash?"
She
smiled and Nolan took a closer look. Her eyes were much bluer than his own, her
hair a little sandier. Her boy looked just like her, but Cal's height had to
have come from his father's side. Myra was only three or four inches over five
feet. And, he had to admit, she looked pretty good when she smiled.
"I
can show you what to do when you're ready to use them," she said to Vic.
"Good,"
he said. "The girls think I'm a dunce in the kitchen as it is. You want a
beer?"
She
hesitated then finally nodded. "Sure. Are the kids still in the
barn?"
"Yeah."
Vic handed her a beer from the cooler. "I'll just take this stuff in. Be
back in a minute."
When the
screen door slammed behind Vic, Myra glanced uncomfortably at Nolan.
He
smiled with pleasure at her unease. "Want some help with that bottle,
Myra?"
"No,
I can get it," She bit the scab on her lower lip as she unscrewed the top.
Nolan propped his beer on his stomach and began to hum.
"Your
bandages need changing," she observed.
He
glanced down. "Are you volunteering?"
"No.
What happened?"
"I
played jump rope too long."
A light
of scorn entered her eyes. "Cal said he talked to you today. I understand
you were a fire—"
"Speaking
of Cal," Nolan interrupted. "I'd like to take him with me tomorrow
and let him guide me to a few salvage yards. We may be able to find a gas tank
for the Lincoln and a radiator for that Mustang."
"No,"
she said.
“Why?”
"Because
I can't afford a radiator and I don't want
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