cigarette.
“How’s your old lady?” Luke asked.
Pete pointed a wooden match at him.
“Leave it alone, Luke.”
Luke sat up straight and looked off into the woods. There was nothing out here except trees and stones and animals, and though the forest was alive with the sound of those trees swaying in the wind and the small critters moving in them, you could tell he was bored already of it. The woods made him antsy. Land and nature gave him no peace. Never did.
“It’s nice out here,” Luke lied. “I wish I’d have gotten my shit together to get a place like this.”
Pete turned a large piece of firewood on end and sat unsteadily on it.
“Bullshit. You hate it in the sticks.”
“So do you.”
“What do you want?”
Luke grinned a private grin that Pete knew hid a secret he was about to hear. Something Luke connived.
“Should I bother asking?”
“Bunnie wants you to come out to the house. Dad’s been sick. That cough.”
“Gosh, he has a cough ? Why didn’t you say something?”
“You should go see him. Bunnie and him.”
“Let me just get my coat,” Pete said, dragging on the cigarette.
“You need to check up on them,” Luke said.
“You check up on them.”
“I ain’t going back that way.”
“Here it comes. I fuckin knew it. What’d you do?”
Luke ran his hands over his thighs, his fingers arched into tines. It was something bad.
“I knocked out my parole officer.”
Pete began to cough, he was laughing so hard. So hard he dropped the cigarette and stepped off the porch and gripped his knees.
“I had a knife on me that I’m not supposed to and Wes saw it and started talking all this shit. ‘Serious violation of my parole.’ Fuckin asshole. Way up in my face. Way up, Pete.”
“So you clocked him.”
“I beat the lovin hell out of him. I couldn’t stop my fists,” Luke said, holding up his hands with some wonderment.
“You dipshit.”
“Stop laughing. I had to spend two nights in the damn woods. It ain’t funny.”
“Yes it is. Yes, it truly is.” Pete got back up on the porch and just beamed at his brother. “This beats everything.”
“I ain’t going back. I can’t do no time again, Pete.”
“Shit, it can’t be that bad. Eighteen months? What are you gonna do instead?”
Luke stood and rocked back on his heels.
“Right. You have a plan ,” he said.
“I need someone to know where I am. In case anything happens. With Dad.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen with Dad.”
“You really need to go see them, Pete.”
“I said I would.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, now I have.”
“This week?”
“Where you gonna run to?” Pete asked.
Luke reached around to his back pocket and handed Pete a slip of paper. Penciled onto it was an Oregon post office box and a map with directions to a spot not far from the coast.
“What’s this?”
“He’s a decent guy. Met him at church. He was coming through giving a pretty interesting lecture.”
“Sounds like you got everything under control.”
Luke smiled the beneficent little smile he’d acquired with religion.
“You should go sometime. It’s done me a world of good.”
“That’s evident. Nobody would debate you.”
“Sarcasm is just anger.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Pete.”
“I got your information here.” Pete held up the paper. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think there’s a phone, but if there is, I’ll call your office.”
Pete mashed out the cigarette smoking on the porch with his bare heel. He didn’t feel anything but a small spot of warmth.
“Give yourself up, Luke.”
“I have, my man.” He pointed upward.
“To the Teton County sheriff.”
Luke put a hand in the air, his eyes floating off, a helpless expression on his face, and paid out a long sigh, that taken together meant that Pete was right, and running was foolish and would just escalate things, but also that Luke had made up his mind and there was no talking him out of it.
“I got to get
“How’s your old lady?” Luke asked.
Pete pointed a wooden match at him.
“Leave it alone, Luke.”
Luke sat up straight and looked off into the woods. There was nothing out here except trees and stones and animals, and though the forest was alive with the sound of those trees swaying in the wind and the small critters moving in them, you could tell he was bored already of it. The woods made him antsy. Land and nature gave him no peace. Never did.
“It’s nice out here,” Luke lied. “I wish I’d have gotten my shit together to get a place like this.”
Pete turned a large piece of firewood on end and sat unsteadily on it.
“Bullshit. You hate it in the sticks.”
“So do you.”
“What do you want?”
Luke grinned a private grin that Pete knew hid a secret he was about to hear. Something Luke connived.
“Should I bother asking?”
“Bunnie wants you to come out to the house. Dad’s been sick. That cough.”
“Gosh, he has a cough ? Why didn’t you say something?”
“You should go see him. Bunnie and him.”
“Let me just get my coat,” Pete said, dragging on the cigarette.
“You need to check up on them,” Luke said.
“You check up on them.”
“I ain’t going back that way.”
“Here it comes. I fuckin knew it. What’d you do?”
Luke ran his hands over his thighs, his fingers arched into tines. It was something bad.
“I knocked out my parole officer.”
Pete began to cough, he was laughing so hard. So hard he dropped the cigarette and stepped off the porch and gripped his knees.
“I had a knife on me that I’m not supposed to and Wes saw it and started talking all this shit. ‘Serious violation of my parole.’ Fuckin asshole. Way up in my face. Way up, Pete.”
“So you clocked him.”
“I beat the lovin hell out of him. I couldn’t stop my fists,” Luke said, holding up his hands with some wonderment.
“You dipshit.”
“Stop laughing. I had to spend two nights in the damn woods. It ain’t funny.”
“Yes it is. Yes, it truly is.” Pete got back up on the porch and just beamed at his brother. “This beats everything.”
“I ain’t going back. I can’t do no time again, Pete.”
“Shit, it can’t be that bad. Eighteen months? What are you gonna do instead?”
Luke stood and rocked back on his heels.
“Right. You have a plan ,” he said.
“I need someone to know where I am. In case anything happens. With Dad.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen with Dad.”
“You really need to go see them, Pete.”
“I said I would.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, now I have.”
“This week?”
“Where you gonna run to?” Pete asked.
Luke reached around to his back pocket and handed Pete a slip of paper. Penciled onto it was an Oregon post office box and a map with directions to a spot not far from the coast.
“What’s this?”
“He’s a decent guy. Met him at church. He was coming through giving a pretty interesting lecture.”
“Sounds like you got everything under control.”
Luke smiled the beneficent little smile he’d acquired with religion.
“You should go sometime. It’s done me a world of good.”
“That’s evident. Nobody would debate you.”
“Sarcasm is just anger.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Pete.”
“I got your information here.” Pete held up the paper. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think there’s a phone, but if there is, I’ll call your office.”
Pete mashed out the cigarette smoking on the porch with his bare heel. He didn’t feel anything but a small spot of warmth.
“Give yourself up, Luke.”
“I have, my man.” He pointed upward.
“To the Teton County sheriff.”
Luke put a hand in the air, his eyes floating off, a helpless expression on his face, and paid out a long sigh, that taken together meant that Pete was right, and running was foolish and would just escalate things, but also that Luke had made up his mind and there was no talking him out of it.
“I got to get
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