Read Online The Evening Hour by A. Carter Sickels - Free Book Online

behind Charlotte, who pushed her way through, all elbows, not caring whose feet she stepped on. While she was in the bathroom, Cole waited at the bar. The bartender stood at the cash register, her back to him, and when she turned around, they both smiled. It was the waitress from the Wigwam. Lacy Cooper.
    â€œI didn’t know you worked here,” he said.
    â€œJust started last week.”
    â€œYou quit the Wigwam?”
    â€œWorking both places.” She asked him what he wanted, and he ordered two beers. “So,” she said, “I finally figured out who you are.”
    â€œOh yeah? Who?”
    â€œYou’re one of the preacher’s grandsons. Rockcamp.”
    â€œThat’s me.”
    â€œI grew up on Thorny Creek,” she said. “Right above you.”
    She told him that her mother had gone to his grandfather’s church a few times before she got too sick. “Too fat, actually.”
    â€œOh yeah? I think I remember her.”
    She laughed. “She was always trying to get me to go, but I didn’t want any part of that fire, brimstone crap. I bet it wasn’t easy growing up with him, was it?”
    â€œNo, not what I would call easy.”
    â€œY’all really mess with snakes?”
    Before he could answer, Charlotte came back and threw her arms around him. “Whoo,” she yelled. Attempting to steady her, Cole gave Lacy a little smile.
    â€œLooks like you got your hands full.”
    â€œI better go find her a place to sit down.”
    â€œYeah, you better.”
    They took a table near the dance floor. A few women were line dancing, laughing and turning in unison, while the men stood around watching them and drinking beer. Cole kept an eye out for customers. Another dealer, Dave D., a heavyset guy with a stiff crew cut and a soul patch, stood in the far corner. Dave D. dealt weed and dabbled in pills. He usually didn’t come into the Eagle, which Cole thought of as his territory. When Dave D. nodded in his direction, Cole barely raised his chin.
    Then Charlotte called out, “Yo, brothers.”
    The three brothers, big and mulish, were moving toward them in a pack. “Try to act sober, would you?” Cole said, but her face was lit up, shining, and they noticed right away: “Char, you on something?” She laughed, slid farther down the chair. They looked at Cole. “What the fuck did you give her?”
    He was afraid of talking, the words bunching up in his mouth. Almost every weekend a fight broke out in the Eagle. Busted bottles, tipped-over tables. Cole had not been in a fight since high school, when some guys went after Terry Rose for sleeping with one of their girls. Cole came out of it with a bloody mouth and an aching jaw, but also feeling like he was a part of something.
    He looked around, wondering how he could escape. Then he saw his twin cousins. He lifted his hand, and they headed over.
    â€œHey, blondie,” said Dell, still just as bucktoothed as he’d been as a kid. “How’s that old Chevy running?”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œDidn’t I tell you?”
    Charlotte’s brothers glanced at each other. Although his cousins had pounded on him when he was a kid, when it came to fighting, a person could usually count on kin. Cole was not sure what would happen next. He clenched his hand into a fist. But then Lyle suddenly let out a coyote-yelp, startling everyone; seconds later, a slow song came on the jukebox. The men stood there, all glaring at each other. Then one of the brothers said he was going to play pool, and the other two trailed after him. The twins looked at each other and laughed.
    When they were kids, Cole had tried to stay clear of them. “Spit it out, retard,” Dell would say, thumping him on the head, while his brother laughed wildly. Lyle was borderline crazy; even his grandmother said he was a little bit touched. Tonight, they had washed the motor grease from