mailing a letter that didn’t exist.
“Life is just full of surprises,” he said, not wanting to give me the pleasure of seeing that he might be just a bit nervous. “My best friend sitting there pretending that he’d like to shoot me.”
“I just wanted to check up on you and Pepper. Make sure you are still going to honor the deal we made.”
“I need to get my prophylactics, Noah. You’ll excuse me if I go over to my drawer. I hate the ones they have at the whorehouses. I always bring my own.”
“Good for you. Now answer my question.”
He went to the bureau, pulled out a cigar box, set it on the bureau top and opened the box. He held uptwo little packs. “The women, they really go for these, Noah.”
“You use them when you and Pepper double up on a rape, do you?” They always liked to brag about those when the wine was down to dregs and the lamps to flickers.
He tucked the prophylactics into his coat pocket. “Noah, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a low opinion of us.”
He replaced the box in the drawer, the drawer in the bureau. “I’m meeting Mr. Pepper in just a few minutes.”
“Remind him of our deal.”
“You’ll have to show me this famous letter of yours sometime, Noah. I must be getting as cynical as you are but I don’t think I actually believe there is such a letter.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He walked to the door. “Turn the covers back for me before you leave, Noah. I’ll probably be too drunk to do it when I get back here tonight. We’ve all got an early start in the morning, don’t we?” He adjusted his bowler. “We have to find the bad man, don’t we?”
Chapter 16
C huck Gage, the former mountain man who lived in a shed behind the Lutheran church, sounded groggy after I knocked. He came to the door saying “Jes’ a danged minute, jes’ a danged minute.” He turned out to be a scruffy man in red long johns worn under a pair of dungarees held up by the widest suspenders I’d ever seen.
“Chuck Gage?”
“And who’d be askin’?”
“My name’s Noah Ford. Jen Chaney told me you might help me with some questions about the mountains.”
He shook his head.
“I should start chargin’ you fellas.”
“Which fellas would that be?”
“All you fellas want to go up into the mountains and find Chaney.” Then: “I should invite you in. Do as much for you as I did for them.”
Couple things right off about the comfortable one-room shack. The potbellied stove kept it nice and warm; the floor was wood and not packed earth; andthe air smelled pleasantly of pipe tobacco, a scent I associate with my grandfather.
He had a comfortable-looking daybed with a handsome multicolored quilt for sleeping and two rocking chairs that looked handmade.
I stood facing him and said, “Man named Pepper come to see you?”
“Yeah. I didn’t like him much.”
“Not many people do.”
“I had to help him because he was a federal man but I didn’t help him much. I made sure I didn’t.” He flung his bony arm in the direction of a rocking chair. “Sit, sit.”
I sat. “I got the impression from Jen that you might have told her brother where he could hide.”
“And what would your interest be in this?”
“I’m a federal man, too. But I want to make sure that Chaney doesn’t get killed.”
“A federal man? Then you know them other two.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t trust ’em.”
“Neither do I.”
He lighted his corncob pipe with knobby hands.
The pipe tobacco scent reminded me of when my granddad would sit next to my bed and smoke his pipe and tell me bedtime stories. It’s funny how you can revert to childhood so fast sometimes. My granddad had died a long time ago but I could remember the timbre and cadence of his voice. If there was a heaven, that would be the first sound I’d hear, the music of that old man’s voice.
I said, “You know where Chaney is?”
“No. I’ve got a general idea. Told him I
“Life is just full of surprises,” he said, not wanting to give me the pleasure of seeing that he might be just a bit nervous. “My best friend sitting there pretending that he’d like to shoot me.”
“I just wanted to check up on you and Pepper. Make sure you are still going to honor the deal we made.”
“I need to get my prophylactics, Noah. You’ll excuse me if I go over to my drawer. I hate the ones they have at the whorehouses. I always bring my own.”
“Good for you. Now answer my question.”
He went to the bureau, pulled out a cigar box, set it on the bureau top and opened the box. He held uptwo little packs. “The women, they really go for these, Noah.”
“You use them when you and Pepper double up on a rape, do you?” They always liked to brag about those when the wine was down to dregs and the lamps to flickers.
He tucked the prophylactics into his coat pocket. “Noah, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a low opinion of us.”
He replaced the box in the drawer, the drawer in the bureau. “I’m meeting Mr. Pepper in just a few minutes.”
“Remind him of our deal.”
“You’ll have to show me this famous letter of yours sometime, Noah. I must be getting as cynical as you are but I don’t think I actually believe there is such a letter.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He walked to the door. “Turn the covers back for me before you leave, Noah. I’ll probably be too drunk to do it when I get back here tonight. We’ve all got an early start in the morning, don’t we?” He adjusted his bowler. “We have to find the bad man, don’t we?”
Chapter 16
C huck Gage, the former mountain man who lived in a shed behind the Lutheran church, sounded groggy after I knocked. He came to the door saying “Jes’ a danged minute, jes’ a danged minute.” He turned out to be a scruffy man in red long johns worn under a pair of dungarees held up by the widest suspenders I’d ever seen.
“Chuck Gage?”
“And who’d be askin’?”
“My name’s Noah Ford. Jen Chaney told me you might help me with some questions about the mountains.”
He shook his head.
“I should start chargin’ you fellas.”
“Which fellas would that be?”
“All you fellas want to go up into the mountains and find Chaney.” Then: “I should invite you in. Do as much for you as I did for them.”
Couple things right off about the comfortable one-room shack. The potbellied stove kept it nice and warm; the floor was wood and not packed earth; andthe air smelled pleasantly of pipe tobacco, a scent I associate with my grandfather.
He had a comfortable-looking daybed with a handsome multicolored quilt for sleeping and two rocking chairs that looked handmade.
I stood facing him and said, “Man named Pepper come to see you?”
“Yeah. I didn’t like him much.”
“Not many people do.”
“I had to help him because he was a federal man but I didn’t help him much. I made sure I didn’t.” He flung his bony arm in the direction of a rocking chair. “Sit, sit.”
I sat. “I got the impression from Jen that you might have told her brother where he could hide.”
“And what would your interest be in this?”
“I’m a federal man, too. But I want to make sure that Chaney doesn’t get killed.”
“A federal man? Then you know them other two.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t trust ’em.”
“Neither do I.”
He lighted his corncob pipe with knobby hands.
The pipe tobacco scent reminded me of when my granddad would sit next to my bed and smoke his pipe and tell me bedtime stories. It’s funny how you can revert to childhood so fast sometimes. My granddad had died a long time ago but I could remember the timbre and cadence of his voice. If there was a heaven, that would be the first sound I’d hear, the music of that old man’s voice.
I said, “You know where Chaney is?”
“No. I’ve got a general idea. Told him I
Similar Books
