Read Online Comeback (Gun Pedersen Book 1) by L. L. Enger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: L. L. Enger
Ads: Link
seconds before following. Inside the men’s room he could see Geoff’s tan Armadillos tapping a worried waltz under the door of the stall. Gun looked in the mirror, squinted once to define the crow’s feet, washed his hands, and leaned against a sink opposite Geoff s stall.
When Geoff swung open the stall door, Gun said, “I want to know one thing from you.”
Geoff stood in front of the coughing toilet. “Mazy isn’t here,” he said. “She’s at home, waiting for me.”
“That wasn’t the question.” Gun shut the distance between them in two strides and stood in the John door, resting a heavy palm on each side. Geoff couldn’t back up. “I want to know this. How did you force my daughter to marry you?”
Geoff’s face looked straight ahead, eyes focusing on the line of Gun’s T-shirt under his collar. “I didn’t force her,” he said. His lips spread into a satisfied smile. “We’re in love.”
Gun took his hands away from the metal stall and put one on each of Geoff’s shoulders, gripping them as if to squeeze ball from socket. “I want you to listen,” he said, and with a quick downthrust he buckled Geoff’s legs and put his tailbone hard on the plastic toilet seat. He bent down to Geoff’s face. “I want you to know that if my daughter is once touched in any way, if she is not treated as if your life depends on her safety, then I won’t just sit you down on a toilet. I’ll cram you inside one. And pull the chain.”
Geoff didn’t answer. Gun slapped the stall closed on his way out.
Every chair was filled when Gun stepped back into the meeting room. He stood against the rear wall, his flanneled arms crossed on his chest, The heavy noise of social anecdoting and backslapping had quieted now to a low wash of talk, jabbed by coughs and quiet laughs. The Reverend Samuel Barr was at the podium.
“Good friends,” said Barr. “Good friends.” His voice was low and powerful, traveling through the room at an almost subsonic level. People heard him, or sensed him, and ended conversations. “Good friends,” Barr repeated, “I thank you all for coming today. The kind members of the county board have asked me to open this hearing, and I’d like to do so with a word of prayer.” Barr bowed his head, display ing a bald circle at the crest of his scalp. Shanks of thick hair surrounded it in a gray halo. “Our Lord,” he said, his voice humming like a bass guitar string, “we thank you for the opportunity of coming together today, and for the opportunity to speak out freely in a country made great by freedom.”
In front of Gun a man in a red shirt gave his neighbor an elbow. “For the opportunity to drink top-grade scotch on a Monday noon,” he whispered.
Samuel Barr continued. Gun saw a look of pious importance on the minister’s narrow features. “We thank you also, Lord, for the chance to improve the lot you’ve given us. It’s become easy for many of us who live here in this beauteous land of lakes and pines”— here Barr paused, as if thinking of specific names— “to forget that life is more than landscape. Life is the chance to work and earn, to give our children bread, to develop those resources we have at hand.”
The prayer rumbled forth unhindered. Slowly the minister raised his bowed head, lifting his eyelids as if to spy on his somber audience. “We thank thee, Lord, for providing us with a means to a better life, that we might serve you more completely,” he said.
Barr and Gun stood at opposite ends of the room, heads up, eyes wide, staring at each other over 150 sleepers. “We thank thee for allowing us this chance to restore our human dignity,” Barr prayed.
“Dear God,” Gun said quietly.
“And we ask that you would lead us now, help us to do what is right,” Barr said. “Help us to help our selves.”
The man in the red shirt gave a single bronchial cough. Barr lowered his head and closed his eyes. “This is our earnest prayer, oh Lord,
When Geoff swung open the stall door, Gun said, “I want to know one thing from you.”
Geoff stood in front of the coughing toilet. “Mazy isn’t here,” he said. “She’s at home, waiting for me.”
“That wasn’t the question.” Gun shut the distance between them in two strides and stood in the John door, resting a heavy palm on each side. Geoff couldn’t back up. “I want to know this. How did you force my daughter to marry you?”
Geoff’s face looked straight ahead, eyes focusing on the line of Gun’s T-shirt under his collar. “I didn’t force her,” he said. His lips spread into a satisfied smile. “We’re in love.”
Gun took his hands away from the metal stall and put one on each of Geoff’s shoulders, gripping them as if to squeeze ball from socket. “I want you to listen,” he said, and with a quick downthrust he buckled Geoff’s legs and put his tailbone hard on the plastic toilet seat. He bent down to Geoff’s face. “I want you to know that if my daughter is once touched in any way, if she is not treated as if your life depends on her safety, then I won’t just sit you down on a toilet. I’ll cram you inside one. And pull the chain.”
Geoff didn’t answer. Gun slapped the stall closed on his way out.
Every chair was filled when Gun stepped back into the meeting room. He stood against the rear wall, his flanneled arms crossed on his chest, The heavy noise of social anecdoting and backslapping had quieted now to a low wash of talk, jabbed by coughs and quiet laughs. The Reverend Samuel Barr was at the podium.
“Good friends,” said Barr. “Good friends.” His voice was low and powerful, traveling through the room at an almost subsonic level. People heard him, or sensed him, and ended conversations. “Good friends,” Barr repeated, “I thank you all for coming today. The kind members of the county board have asked me to open this hearing, and I’d like to do so with a word of prayer.” Barr bowed his head, display ing a bald circle at the crest of his scalp. Shanks of thick hair surrounded it in a gray halo. “Our Lord,” he said, his voice humming like a bass guitar string, “we thank you for the opportunity of coming together today, and for the opportunity to speak out freely in a country made great by freedom.”
In front of Gun a man in a red shirt gave his neighbor an elbow. “For the opportunity to drink top-grade scotch on a Monday noon,” he whispered.
Samuel Barr continued. Gun saw a look of pious importance on the minister’s narrow features. “We thank you also, Lord, for the chance to improve the lot you’ve given us. It’s become easy for many of us who live here in this beauteous land of lakes and pines”— here Barr paused, as if thinking of specific names— “to forget that life is more than landscape. Life is the chance to work and earn, to give our children bread, to develop those resources we have at hand.”
The prayer rumbled forth unhindered. Slowly the minister raised his bowed head, lifting his eyelids as if to spy on his somber audience. “We thank thee, Lord, for providing us with a means to a better life, that we might serve you more completely,” he said.
Barr and Gun stood at opposite ends of the room, heads up, eyes wide, staring at each other over 150 sleepers. “We thank thee for allowing us this chance to restore our human dignity,” Barr prayed.
“Dear God,” Gun said quietly.
“And we ask that you would lead us now, help us to do what is right,” Barr said. “Help us to help our selves.”
The man in the red shirt gave a single bronchial cough. Barr lowered his head and closed his eyes. “This is our earnest prayer, oh Lord,
Similar Books
