Read Online Taft by Ann Patchett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ann Patchett
Tags: General Fiction
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right?"
"I'll wait here," I told her. "You go in and check for Carl."
"Oh, no," she said. "Don't do that. You've got things to do. Carl's fine. He's just sleeping, I bet. I bet he just forgot."
"I'll wait here," I said. The longer we sat there, the more I was sure he wasn't inside.
Fay nodded at me and got out of the car. She tried to close the door quietly and wound up not getting it closed all the way. I shooed her off when she started to try again. She leaned over to unlock the front door of her house and then she went inside.
It was a whole lot quieter out there than it was where I lived. No traffic noise, no voices, no loud girls telling each other their business outside every window. I turned off the car and held my breath without thinking about it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard such quiet. I saw lights going on upstairs. On in one room then off, on in another. It wouldn't be a good thing if someone was to open their curtains and see me out there, a black man sitting in his green Chevy Nova. A black man sitting in such a white driveway, waiting on this white girl. Whether or not a person was doing something wrong very rarely figured into these things. Being there in the first place, that's trouble enough.
Fay was walking a lot quicker coming out of the door than she was going into it. She got in the car. "Not there," she said, looking at me.
I sighed. Whatever it meant, it wasn't going to be good. "Maybe he went out with some friends."
"Carl doesn't have any friends," she said.
"Did you tell your aunt and uncle?" I knew full well that she hadn't, that she hadn't been inside long enough, that she wouldn't have told them based on what she'd said about their house, that if she had told them she wouldn't be sitting in the car with me.
"I'm not going to wake anybody up," she said.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel and thought about it for a minute, all of it. "Then I guess you're going to have to go inside and wait. If he isn't home by the time it gets light, I'd say you should call the police." Not the advice I would have given anybody else I knew, but with Fay it was all I could come up with.
"I'm not going back in there," she said. "I'm not going to wait around and call the police. We'll just have to find him."
Five minutes ago she didn't want to impose on me to wait in the driveway. "Where do you suggest we look for him?" I said.
"I don't know. I thought maybe you'd have some ideas."
"I don't know Carl."
"You know where people go," Fay said.
Let's say we could be sure he wasn't in his bed, wasn't at my apartment, probably wasn't at Marion's parents' house. That would leave the rest of Memphis. Maybe I knew where people went, some people, people who were older, people who played music. Maybe I knew where they went a couple of years ago and what I remembered I didn't like: after-hours clubs that closed up and moved without any notice, around the zoo, in the trees where nobody can see you; a couple of bad apartments in bad buildings in bad neighborhoods where people bought their drugs and became so overwhelmed with the sweet smell that they did them right there in the hall way. I liked none of it. I didn't want to go looking for places like that. I didn't want to go there because those were the places where people shot you for fun. Those were places where people got picked up without anyone first checking on the crime. I couldn't take Fay in with me and I couldn't leave her in the car and I couldn't find out a thing by driving around. Nobody tells you anything. The trick is to see it, accidentally, all by yourself. Maybe Carl was worth saving, but I wasn't the person to do it. Fay was staring at me. She was planted so deep inside my car I doubt I could have cut her out.
"We'll drive around," I said. I reached over her and pushed down the button lock on her door. She looked satisfied with the way things were going. I would find some bad places that weren't so bad. Whatever I did,
"I'll wait here," I told her. "You go in and check for Carl."
"Oh, no," she said. "Don't do that. You've got things to do. Carl's fine. He's just sleeping, I bet. I bet he just forgot."
"I'll wait here," I said. The longer we sat there, the more I was sure he wasn't inside.
Fay nodded at me and got out of the car. She tried to close the door quietly and wound up not getting it closed all the way. I shooed her off when she started to try again. She leaned over to unlock the front door of her house and then she went inside.
It was a whole lot quieter out there than it was where I lived. No traffic noise, no voices, no loud girls telling each other their business outside every window. I turned off the car and held my breath without thinking about it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard such quiet. I saw lights going on upstairs. On in one room then off, on in another. It wouldn't be a good thing if someone was to open their curtains and see me out there, a black man sitting in his green Chevy Nova. A black man sitting in such a white driveway, waiting on this white girl. Whether or not a person was doing something wrong very rarely figured into these things. Being there in the first place, that's trouble enough.
Fay was walking a lot quicker coming out of the door than she was going into it. She got in the car. "Not there," she said, looking at me.
I sighed. Whatever it meant, it wasn't going to be good. "Maybe he went out with some friends."
"Carl doesn't have any friends," she said.
"Did you tell your aunt and uncle?" I knew full well that she hadn't, that she hadn't been inside long enough, that she wouldn't have told them based on what she'd said about their house, that if she had told them she wouldn't be sitting in the car with me.
"I'm not going to wake anybody up," she said.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel and thought about it for a minute, all of it. "Then I guess you're going to have to go inside and wait. If he isn't home by the time it gets light, I'd say you should call the police." Not the advice I would have given anybody else I knew, but with Fay it was all I could come up with.
"I'm not going back in there," she said. "I'm not going to wait around and call the police. We'll just have to find him."
Five minutes ago she didn't want to impose on me to wait in the driveway. "Where do you suggest we look for him?" I said.
"I don't know. I thought maybe you'd have some ideas."
"I don't know Carl."
"You know where people go," Fay said.
Let's say we could be sure he wasn't in his bed, wasn't at my apartment, probably wasn't at Marion's parents' house. That would leave the rest of Memphis. Maybe I knew where people went, some people, people who were older, people who played music. Maybe I knew where they went a couple of years ago and what I remembered I didn't like: after-hours clubs that closed up and moved without any notice, around the zoo, in the trees where nobody can see you; a couple of bad apartments in bad buildings in bad neighborhoods where people bought their drugs and became so overwhelmed with the sweet smell that they did them right there in the hall way. I liked none of it. I didn't want to go looking for places like that. I didn't want to go there because those were the places where people shot you for fun. Those were places where people got picked up without anyone first checking on the crime. I couldn't take Fay in with me and I couldn't leave her in the car and I couldn't find out a thing by driving around. Nobody tells you anything. The trick is to see it, accidentally, all by yourself. Maybe Carl was worth saving, but I wasn't the person to do it. Fay was staring at me. She was planted so deep inside my car I doubt I could have cut her out.
"We'll drive around," I said. I reached over her and pushed down the button lock on her door. She looked satisfied with the way things were going. I would find some bad places that weren't so bad. Whatever I did,
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