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Authors: Cormac McCarthy
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walking about on his anklebones. He went out barefooted and fetched in the ladder and climbed up and looked at the girl. He came back down with the rifle and stood it by the fireplace. Then he opened the parcels from town and held up the garments and sniffed at them and folded them away again.
He opened a can of beans and a can of the sausagesand set them in the fire and he put a pan of water on to make coffee with. Then he put the other things away in the closet and sitting on the edge of the mattress pulled on his shoes again. With the axe in his hand he went clopping across the floor and out into the night. It had begun to snow again.
He hauled wood until the room was a huge brush pile with old pieces of stumps and whole lengths of fencepost with sections of rotted wire hanging from their staples. He worked at it until well past dark and got a good fire going and sat before it and ate his supper. When he was done he lit the lamp and went into the other room with it and climbed the ladder. Muttered curses, sounds of struggle, ensued.
She came down the ladder until she touched the floor with her feet and there she stopped. He paid out more rope but she was standing there in the floor leaning against the ladder. She was standing on tiptoe, nor would she fold. Ballard came down the ladder and undid the rope from around her waist. Then he dragged her into the other room and laid her on the hearth. He took hold of her arm and tried to raise it but the whole body shifted woodenly. Goddamn frozen bitch, said Ballard. He piled more firewood on.
It was past midnight before she was limber enough to undress. She lay there naked on the mattress with her sallow breasts pooled in the light like wax flowers. Ballard began to dress her in her new clothes.
He sat and brushed her hair with the dimestore brush he’d bought. He undid the top of the lipstick and screwed it out and began to paint her lips.
He would arrange her in different positions and go out and peer in the window at her. After a while he just sat holding her, his hands feeling her body under the new clothes. He undressed her very slowly, talking to her. Then he pulled off his trousers and lay next to her. He spread her loose thighs. You been wantin it, he told her.
Later he hauled her back into the other room. She was loose and not easy to handle. Her bones lay loosely in her flesh. He covered her with the rags and returned to the fire and built it high as it would go and lay in the bed watching it. The flue howled with the enormity of the draw and red flames danced at the chimney top. An enormous brick candle burning in the night. Ballard crammed brush and pieces of stumpwood right up the chimney throat. He made coffee and leaned back on his pallet. Now freeze, you son of a bitch, he told the night beyond the window-pane.
It did. It dropped to six below zero. A brick toppled into the flames. Ballard stoked the fire and pulled his blankets about and composed himself for sleep. It was bright as day in the cabin. He lay staring at the ceiling. Then he got up again and lit the lamp and went into the other room. He turned the girl over and tied the rope around her and ascended into the attic. Again she rose, now naked. Ballard came back down the ladder and took the ladder down and laid it by the wall and went back in and went to bed. Outside the snow fell softly.
W HEN BALLARD REACHED Fox’s store he was half frozen. A bluish dusk suffused the barren woods about. He went straight to the stove and stood next to the dusty gray barrel of it with his teeth chattering.
Cold enough for ye? said Mr Fox.
Ballard nodded.
Radio says it’s goin down to three degrees tonight.
Ballard was not for Smalltalk. He went around the store selecting cans of beans and vienna sausages and he got two loaves of bread and pointed out the baloney in the meatcase that he wanted a halfpound of and he got a quart of sweetmilk and some cheese and crackers and a box of cakes. Mr Fox totted up the
He opened a can of beans and a can of the sausagesand set them in the fire and he put a pan of water on to make coffee with. Then he put the other things away in the closet and sitting on the edge of the mattress pulled on his shoes again. With the axe in his hand he went clopping across the floor and out into the night. It had begun to snow again.
He hauled wood until the room was a huge brush pile with old pieces of stumps and whole lengths of fencepost with sections of rotted wire hanging from their staples. He worked at it until well past dark and got a good fire going and sat before it and ate his supper. When he was done he lit the lamp and went into the other room with it and climbed the ladder. Muttered curses, sounds of struggle, ensued.
She came down the ladder until she touched the floor with her feet and there she stopped. He paid out more rope but she was standing there in the floor leaning against the ladder. She was standing on tiptoe, nor would she fold. Ballard came down the ladder and undid the rope from around her waist. Then he dragged her into the other room and laid her on the hearth. He took hold of her arm and tried to raise it but the whole body shifted woodenly. Goddamn frozen bitch, said Ballard. He piled more firewood on.
It was past midnight before she was limber enough to undress. She lay there naked on the mattress with her sallow breasts pooled in the light like wax flowers. Ballard began to dress her in her new clothes.
He sat and brushed her hair with the dimestore brush he’d bought. He undid the top of the lipstick and screwed it out and began to paint her lips.
He would arrange her in different positions and go out and peer in the window at her. After a while he just sat holding her, his hands feeling her body under the new clothes. He undressed her very slowly, talking to her. Then he pulled off his trousers and lay next to her. He spread her loose thighs. You been wantin it, he told her.
Later he hauled her back into the other room. She was loose and not easy to handle. Her bones lay loosely in her flesh. He covered her with the rags and returned to the fire and built it high as it would go and lay in the bed watching it. The flue howled with the enormity of the draw and red flames danced at the chimney top. An enormous brick candle burning in the night. Ballard crammed brush and pieces of stumpwood right up the chimney throat. He made coffee and leaned back on his pallet. Now freeze, you son of a bitch, he told the night beyond the window-pane.
It did. It dropped to six below zero. A brick toppled into the flames. Ballard stoked the fire and pulled his blankets about and composed himself for sleep. It was bright as day in the cabin. He lay staring at the ceiling. Then he got up again and lit the lamp and went into the other room. He turned the girl over and tied the rope around her and ascended into the attic. Again she rose, now naked. Ballard came back down the ladder and took the ladder down and laid it by the wall and went back in and went to bed. Outside the snow fell softly.
W HEN BALLARD REACHED Fox’s store he was half frozen. A bluish dusk suffused the barren woods about. He went straight to the stove and stood next to the dusty gray barrel of it with his teeth chattering.
Cold enough for ye? said Mr Fox.
Ballard nodded.
Radio says it’s goin down to three degrees tonight.
Ballard was not for Smalltalk. He went around the store selecting cans of beans and vienna sausages and he got two loaves of bread and pointed out the baloney in the meatcase that he wanted a halfpound of and he got a quart of sweetmilk and some cheese and crackers and a box of cakes. Mr Fox totted up the
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