Read Online Preston Falls : a novel by 1947- David Gates - Free Book Online
Authors: 1947- David Gates
Tags: Family
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up—at least not the radio part. "Time is it?" he says.
"I don't know, ten-thirty?" says Champ. "Listen, man, we're going to head out."
"Wait. What? This is Sunday, right? I thought you were going back tomorrow." Willis sees Tina, sleepy-eyed, fucked-looking, sitting in the armchair, one leg draped over the arm. Back in her same biker shorts.
"Well, see, we were sort of talking it over upstairs," Champ says, "and we were feeling like—I don't know if I told you, but we've been doing this thing Sunday nights where we watch Tina's sister's kid? You know, so she can go to her meeting."
"She's been doing really really well," says Tina.
"She's a puker," Champ says. "It's like AA, what she goes to, except it's all pukers and fatties."
"Sweetie pie."
"Yes, dear."
"It's really helped her incredibly," says Tina.
"Hell, I'd be a puker too if I had that little shit to deal with."
"Father material." Tina flips a thumb at Champ.
"Anyhow, we were thinking maybe we better get down there. Like what if the Higher Power blew off the weekend? She's sitting there stuffing down chocolate cream doughnuts and the finger's getting closer! Closer!" He moves a trembling index finger toward his mouth.
"Stop," says Tina."That is really cruel.''
"The other thing, I got to get the mighty turnpike cruiser in to like Rayco or someplace, see what the fuck's the matter with that top."
"On Labor Day weekend?" Willis says.
"Well, you know, plus Tina has shit she's got to do. And we just thought, you know, with the top and everything, better get in before it starts to cool off, 'cause we didn't bring any jackets or shit."
"We've got jackets," says Willis.
"Plus if we wait till tomorrow we're not going to find a place to park. Shit, we been thinking of moving out to New Jersey just to have a fuckin' driveway."
"We have not,'' Tina says.
"She doesn't want to."
"I'm too young to die," Tina says.
"Hey, Jersey is happening," says Champ. "They got towns with all these big-ass houses, the white people are moving out, and stuff's going for nothing. What the fuck, so you get a gun and a fuckin' security system. We got shit at the store—you know, put fuckin' razor wire. I want to have a big fuckin' sleaze palace, about ten bedrooms, you know? Mattresses on the floor? Great big speakers?"
"What Champ wants in his heart of hearts," says Tina, "is a free-sex commune."
"Yeah, well? That can still work too. You know, you test everybody once a week."
"He is so dear," says Tina.
"Tina has no ideals. So listen, bro, we better do it. Now where'd Jean get to?"
They find her out behind the house where the stream cuts through in springtime. Rathbone's strutting back and forth with a stick in his mouth. She gets up, knees of her jeans muddy, and brings Tina a plastic bag with green stuff in it.
PRESTON FALLS
"This is that mint," she says. Champ claps his hands and Rathbone trots over with the stick.
"Oh. Thank you." Tina clearly has forgotten whatever conversation they apparently had about mint.
Champ grabs for the stick and Rathbone dodges away.
"Hey, bro?" says Willis. "Show you something for a second?" He leads Champ over toward the woodshed. That God damn gutter's just hanging off the eaves; everywhere on this whole fucking place something needs to be done, urgently. "Listen, Fm sorry about how tense things are here."
"Ah, this shit happens. I just thought it might be easier with us out from underfoot."
"Well," says Willis, "easier on you, for sure."
"Doesn't bother me. I think Tina's sort of bummed that you guys— but shit, she's young, you know? Hasn't quite achieved that Zen-like detachment. She likes you."
"Well, I like her" Willis says. "I think you really scored."
"Of course I scored. Nurk nurk nurk."
"You dick. Listen, we'll be okay."
"Right, I know that," says Champ. "And you know you can call me anytime."
"Now there's a vote of confidence."
"So," Champ says. "I guess we better do it."
Willis puts Rathbone in the house—the
"I don't know, ten-thirty?" says Champ. "Listen, man, we're going to head out."
"Wait. What? This is Sunday, right? I thought you were going back tomorrow." Willis sees Tina, sleepy-eyed, fucked-looking, sitting in the armchair, one leg draped over the arm. Back in her same biker shorts.
"Well, see, we were sort of talking it over upstairs," Champ says, "and we were feeling like—I don't know if I told you, but we've been doing this thing Sunday nights where we watch Tina's sister's kid? You know, so she can go to her meeting."
"She's been doing really really well," says Tina.
"She's a puker," Champ says. "It's like AA, what she goes to, except it's all pukers and fatties."
"Sweetie pie."
"Yes, dear."
"It's really helped her incredibly," says Tina.
"Hell, I'd be a puker too if I had that little shit to deal with."
"Father material." Tina flips a thumb at Champ.
"Anyhow, we were thinking maybe we better get down there. Like what if the Higher Power blew off the weekend? She's sitting there stuffing down chocolate cream doughnuts and the finger's getting closer! Closer!" He moves a trembling index finger toward his mouth.
"Stop," says Tina."That is really cruel.''
"The other thing, I got to get the mighty turnpike cruiser in to like Rayco or someplace, see what the fuck's the matter with that top."
"On Labor Day weekend?" Willis says.
"Well, you know, plus Tina has shit she's got to do. And we just thought, you know, with the top and everything, better get in before it starts to cool off, 'cause we didn't bring any jackets or shit."
"We've got jackets," says Willis.
"Plus if we wait till tomorrow we're not going to find a place to park. Shit, we been thinking of moving out to New Jersey just to have a fuckin' driveway."
"We have not,'' Tina says.
"She doesn't want to."
"I'm too young to die," Tina says.
"Hey, Jersey is happening," says Champ. "They got towns with all these big-ass houses, the white people are moving out, and stuff's going for nothing. What the fuck, so you get a gun and a fuckin' security system. We got shit at the store—you know, put fuckin' razor wire. I want to have a big fuckin' sleaze palace, about ten bedrooms, you know? Mattresses on the floor? Great big speakers?"
"What Champ wants in his heart of hearts," says Tina, "is a free-sex commune."
"Yeah, well? That can still work too. You know, you test everybody once a week."
"He is so dear," says Tina.
"Tina has no ideals. So listen, bro, we better do it. Now where'd Jean get to?"
They find her out behind the house where the stream cuts through in springtime. Rathbone's strutting back and forth with a stick in his mouth. She gets up, knees of her jeans muddy, and brings Tina a plastic bag with green stuff in it.
PRESTON FALLS
"This is that mint," she says. Champ claps his hands and Rathbone trots over with the stick.
"Oh. Thank you." Tina clearly has forgotten whatever conversation they apparently had about mint.
Champ grabs for the stick and Rathbone dodges away.
"Hey, bro?" says Willis. "Show you something for a second?" He leads Champ over toward the woodshed. That God damn gutter's just hanging off the eaves; everywhere on this whole fucking place something needs to be done, urgently. "Listen, Fm sorry about how tense things are here."
"Ah, this shit happens. I just thought it might be easier with us out from underfoot."
"Well," says Willis, "easier on you, for sure."
"Doesn't bother me. I think Tina's sort of bummed that you guys— but shit, she's young, you know? Hasn't quite achieved that Zen-like detachment. She likes you."
"Well, I like her" Willis says. "I think you really scored."
"Of course I scored. Nurk nurk nurk."
"You dick. Listen, we'll be okay."
"Right, I know that," says Champ. "And you know you can call me anytime."
"Now there's a vote of confidence."
"So," Champ says. "I guess we better do it."
Willis puts Rathbone in the house—the
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