Read Online Just North of Nowhere by Lawrence Santoro - Free Book Online Page A

agreements going way back. Nothing going to happen here unless we agree. River takes care. I do too. I shovel winters, cut summers, do patch work, here and there. I keep out Chippewa spooks down by the Crick – most of them, anyway. I do other things. Keep stuff going. I watch things come and go. Did since I was a kid.
    Herb felt like smiling and he did.
    Bunch drew back, cocked his head. “You got a smile, there, makes a guy feel like sucking a double-aught barrel.”
    “I’m afraid so,” Herb said, “it’s just my look, though, not my way.”
    “I figure you're here for a visit, right; stay a little, then gone, just another terrorist? Am I right?”
    “Mm,” Herb said, “more or less a tourist. More or less,” he added.
    Herb breathed the scent of the man, again. Yes: fragrant with life. His jowls quivered with it.
    “Touring,” Herb said. “But I was going to do something,” he added. “To be honest...? Do you want me to be honest?” Herb asked.
    “Nope,” Bunch said.
    Yes, Herb liked this place. The opulent aroma of Bunch mingled with fish flop from the river. It roistered with the animal medley – piss, shit, fear, and blood—from the stock pens. The gorse, mosses, fungus, and trees in leaf across the river added a loamy richness to the cool air. Herb smelled worms, too, and other things, so many other things. It was a symphony of riches here. He liked this town and he wanted it to like him.
    “I'll stay for a bit,” he said to Bunch. “This is an interesting place. I like the people. I like your river.” He patted the porch railing. “I like what grows here.”
    Bunch straightened. He flexed as though he were working up to grabbing Herb by the ears and tossing him over the rail so the river could flush him along.
    Herb’s arms hung at his sides, followed the curve of his body. From his wide hips, his legs tapered to tiny feet. His ears sagged in pendulums and his cheeks drooped in wattles below his chin. His upper lip slipped another quarter inch over the lower and his eyes went wet and soft.
    “I’m warning you,” Bunch said in a fume, “I look after this place!” His fist made a humming pass inches from Herb's 200-watt nose.
    “And a good job it is, too.” Herb nodded and did not dodge or flinch the whistling haymakers Bunch slipped through the air around Herb’s head. Bunch meant it . Herb liked that. “A place this nice needs a protector. It’s precious. I like it and I'll enjoy it for a while. Then I'll be gone.”
    Without actually stopping his feints and footwork, Bunch relaxed. “Yeah?” he said.
    “Yes.” Herb said. “While I'm here, well, I like to share with friends. There are things I'll share.”
    “Yeah?” Bunch said again and stopped swinging, kept up his footwork.
    “Won't know I'm here. Except I may leave a thing or two. Then I'll be gone. I hope you'll remember me with fondness when.”
    “Yeah?” Bunch said panting.
    Bunch’s heart thumps pounded in Herb’s ears
    “Yes.” Herb said. He took another breath and returned to the bar.
    The music had ended. Ivan stared into the rippling juke light. Old Ken’s nose still pointed to the ceiling. At the end of the bar, Karl stared at the beerfall sign.
    “Have another one, fella?” Ivan said to Herb. “On the house!”
    “Not now,” Herb said, “but thank you, thank you.” Then, almost as a second thought: “You liked the song?”
    Ivan blinked. “Huh? Oh yeah. Sure. Thanks. That’s some sweet music!”
    “I thought you would.” And Herb was out the door and in his car.
    Bunch was right behind. “Hey. Droopy!” he called.
    Herb rolled down his window.
    “Where you from?”
    “Chicago,” he said.
    “Yeah!” Bunch said shaking his head. “Yeah! Chicago! You said.” Bunch grabbed the car door as the engine came to life. “You're from Mars, ain't you?” he said and gave Herb a wink and a nod. “Huh?”
    Herb drooped. “No.” Herb looked behind then backed the car carefully into the