and we wanted to tell you about the hogs that’s been running through your yard.”
“I locked that door,” Lola said faintly.
“Nome.”
“I know I did.”
“Nome. We could open hit.”
Lola sat down on the couch. She thought of going back to the bathroom and getting the can of toilet bowl cleaner and throwing it in their eyes, but there wasn’t any place for her togo after she had done that. There wasn’t any way for her to escape into the woods. It would be like trying to run off the edge of the world, she knew. “Look,” she said severely, “my husband is a newscaster on television.”
They looked at her politely. “Whatsis name?” Cale asked.
“Dundey.” I have them now, she thought wildly. They’ll go now. “On WTVB. Jim Dundey.”
J.J. seemed interested for the first time. His mouth rolled back and his eyes glazed as though he’d been hit in the back of the head. He started laughing in short whistling gasps. “Jim Dandy! He’s suckering you. Thaters no name for a man. Thaters a name of dawg food!” He laughed carefully and with concentration as though it was something that took talent, and then stopped abruptly and shook his head. On the sleeve of his jacket was a wide crust of red, like a scab. Lola thought that if it fell off and onto her carpet, she would drop to the floor and never move again.
Cale wasn’t laughing but his face had squeezed up to two-thirds its regular size and his eyebrows were level with his hairline. Everyone was silent and not looking at each other.
“We don’t watch no television ourselfs,” Cale said in a hoarse voice. “We had a tee vee onct but we swopped hit for a Walker and before he run away he were a twice better Walker than hit were a tee vee.”
Lola felt that J.J.’s blue eyes were sitting in her lap. Inside, she was running and running and almost out of breath.
“I wouldn’t worry about that none,” Cale went on, “if that’s indeed his name. Someone’s given names to everything on this earth. There ain’t nothing what don’t got a name.” His cheeks fell in as though he had suddenly lost all his teeth. “Ain’t that sad?”
“I think that it’s a very good thing,” Lola said stiffly.
J.J. took two steps forward and two steps back. He smelled like a storm coming. “Bunch of smartasses went around and cat-a-logued hit all,” he muttered.
Cale ducked his head uncomfortably and pushed the curtains back. It was dusk and the trees were darker than the sky.“Now,” he said, “if you would lookitere, you could see where them hogs torn the place up.”
Lola rose obediently and walked to the window. The ground was tumbled and stacked as though by several erratic plows. Long muddy nests were everywhere. Water-filled hollows. Small trees had been beaten over. The land looked bombed.
“I haven’t seen that before,” Lola said. “It always looks like a wreck out there to me.”
“You here all day long?” Cale asked.
Lola didn’t answer. The three of them were in a semicircle, looking at the woods, with their arms dangling and their faces empty as though they had just finished a long and meaningful conversation.
“What I mean was they make a racket. If you’d of heard em you could of shot em. That meat is just so lean and sweet …”
“Make enough noise coming through to wake the dead,” J.J. said fiercely, as though he had been insulted.
“Uh-huh,” Cale said.
“The quick and the dead,” J.J. continued. “You familiar with what is ‘quick’?”
Lola went to the kitchen sink and stood there, running water over her hands.
“Naw,” Cale said, “I ain’t.”
“Unborn,” J.J. said, shrugging.
“Noise even for that,” Cale said. “Hit’s probably true.”
“I am going to make dinner now for my husband,” Lola announced, “who is going to be back any moment. And I am going to make myself a drink.” She twisted the water faucets on as far as they would go and said, “Would you like to have a
“I locked that door,” Lola said faintly.
“Nome.”
“I know I did.”
“Nome. We could open hit.”
Lola sat down on the couch. She thought of going back to the bathroom and getting the can of toilet bowl cleaner and throwing it in their eyes, but there wasn’t any place for her togo after she had done that. There wasn’t any way for her to escape into the woods. It would be like trying to run off the edge of the world, she knew. “Look,” she said severely, “my husband is a newscaster on television.”
They looked at her politely. “Whatsis name?” Cale asked.
“Dundey.” I have them now, she thought wildly. They’ll go now. “On WTVB. Jim Dundey.”
J.J. seemed interested for the first time. His mouth rolled back and his eyes glazed as though he’d been hit in the back of the head. He started laughing in short whistling gasps. “Jim Dandy! He’s suckering you. Thaters no name for a man. Thaters a name of dawg food!” He laughed carefully and with concentration as though it was something that took talent, and then stopped abruptly and shook his head. On the sleeve of his jacket was a wide crust of red, like a scab. Lola thought that if it fell off and onto her carpet, she would drop to the floor and never move again.
Cale wasn’t laughing but his face had squeezed up to two-thirds its regular size and his eyebrows were level with his hairline. Everyone was silent and not looking at each other.
“We don’t watch no television ourselfs,” Cale said in a hoarse voice. “We had a tee vee onct but we swopped hit for a Walker and before he run away he were a twice better Walker than hit were a tee vee.”
Lola felt that J.J.’s blue eyes were sitting in her lap. Inside, she was running and running and almost out of breath.
“I wouldn’t worry about that none,” Cale went on, “if that’s indeed his name. Someone’s given names to everything on this earth. There ain’t nothing what don’t got a name.” His cheeks fell in as though he had suddenly lost all his teeth. “Ain’t that sad?”
“I think that it’s a very good thing,” Lola said stiffly.
J.J. took two steps forward and two steps back. He smelled like a storm coming. “Bunch of smartasses went around and cat-a-logued hit all,” he muttered.
Cale ducked his head uncomfortably and pushed the curtains back. It was dusk and the trees were darker than the sky.“Now,” he said, “if you would lookitere, you could see where them hogs torn the place up.”
Lola rose obediently and walked to the window. The ground was tumbled and stacked as though by several erratic plows. Long muddy nests were everywhere. Water-filled hollows. Small trees had been beaten over. The land looked bombed.
“I haven’t seen that before,” Lola said. “It always looks like a wreck out there to me.”
“You here all day long?” Cale asked.
Lola didn’t answer. The three of them were in a semicircle, looking at the woods, with their arms dangling and their faces empty as though they had just finished a long and meaningful conversation.
“What I mean was they make a racket. If you’d of heard em you could of shot em. That meat is just so lean and sweet …”
“Make enough noise coming through to wake the dead,” J.J. said fiercely, as though he had been insulted.
“Uh-huh,” Cale said.
“The quick and the dead,” J.J. continued. “You familiar with what is ‘quick’?”
Lola went to the kitchen sink and stood there, running water over her hands.
“Naw,” Cale said, “I ain’t.”
“Unborn,” J.J. said, shrugging.
“Noise even for that,” Cale said. “Hit’s probably true.”
“I am going to make dinner now for my husband,” Lola announced, “who is going to be back any moment. And I am going to make myself a drink.” She twisted the water faucets on as far as they would go and said, “Would you like to have a
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