its axles broken, the rusted-out metal hulk of a steam
boiler, and pointy-spouted oil cans scattered around. There was a
jumbled pile of old bales of hay that must’ve laid there for
five years and more. Old furniture tossed anywhere and many things I
couldn’t even put a name to. I got the feeling that the old
farmer went into a rage, taking everything he had and throwing it
from the house and barn.
Little
animals scurried in amongst the junk; there were mounds of ants; an
opossum had made its nest in a hollow tree full of old clothes, rags.
There was
a large stack of rotting timber that must’ve been intended for
building at one time, laying in front of the house like a giant pile
of dropped kindling.
A few wild
roosters hopped around and four mongrel dogs sat in the shade of a
sweet olive tree. The ground around them was scattered with dried
turds and dead blades of grass.
The house
was even worse.
It looked
as if the main beams had been broken. The roof was caved in; all four
walls leaned inward. The old two-story farm house had been folded
into a squat hut. There was a pipe sticking out near the top of one
of the slanted walls, a weak rag of smoke coming from it. If it
wasn’t for that I’d’ve thought we had come on a
deserted wreck.
One of the
dogs got up, snarling and slavering at Mouse. It snapped and growled
but just when it got near, Mouse slammed it on the side of the neck
with his pole. It was a very simple thing; he did it almost like
breathing, he was so blasé.
The dog’s
yelp was so sharp that you could feel his pain. He rolled in the
filth under the tree, making a terrible racket. The other dogs jumped
up and started pacing, back and forth.
That’s
when some boards that were once the front door of the house moved
outward. A strong-looking black man stood in the wreck of that
doorway. He wore overalls with no shirt and you could see the
strength in his arms and chest like flats of dark steel. He looked
like he belonged in the fields all day long, tearing up the sod and
yanking trees out by the root.
Mouse
dropped his stick. ‘Hey there, Reese,’ he said.
The big
man came out of the doorway but he seemed to bring the shadows along
with him.
‘This
here’s my friend - Easy Rawlins.’
I said
hello but the farmer didn’t even look at me. He was watching
his dog, who by then had stopped wallowing and was simply laying in
the dirt, shivering like one of the fish Mouse had stunned earlier
that morning.
‘Wha’
happen my dog, Raymond?’
‘Search
me. He run up like he knew me an’ then he fell into a fit.’
Mouse stared Reese straight in the face. He wasn’t letting
anything show, except a slight squint from the sun.
‘Ain’t
no room in the house fo’no guests, Ray. What you want?’
Mouse
hunkered down against a rotted bale of hay and said, ‘Just
wanted to shout at ya, Reese, you know it’s been some years an’
I thought I’d see ya while we down here.’
‘I
ain’t got no food and no drinks fo’ guests neither. So if
you got sumpin’ t’say then let’s have it.’
I was
sorry I talked Mouse into coming.
‘Looks
like you could use a hand out here, Reese. Farm’s goin’
to shit if you ask me.’
Reese took
a deep breath, you could see the rage. Watching Mouse bait him was
like watching a man striking matches over a vat of gasoline.
‘I
mean you might need some help out here an’, well you know I’m
kinda settlin’ down nowadays… gettin’ married to a girl
down in Houston.’
Reese was
through with small talk.
‘So
I thought maybe we talk some business. You know after my weddin’
I might wanna come on out here an’ do some honest work.’
That got a
smile from Reese. He said, ‘No, uh-uh. You go on an’ do
whatever it is you doin’. I stay out to here.’
‘Well
we don’t have to worry ‘bout that now. I thought you
wanna come on out an’ celebrate wit’ me an’ Easy.
You know it ain’t ev’ryday you get a daughter-in-law an’
maybe
boiler, and pointy-spouted oil cans scattered around. There was a
jumbled pile of old bales of hay that must’ve laid there for
five years and more. Old furniture tossed anywhere and many things I
couldn’t even put a name to. I got the feeling that the old
farmer went into a rage, taking everything he had and throwing it
from the house and barn.
Little
animals scurried in amongst the junk; there were mounds of ants; an
opossum had made its nest in a hollow tree full of old clothes, rags.
There was
a large stack of rotting timber that must’ve been intended for
building at one time, laying in front of the house like a giant pile
of dropped kindling.
A few wild
roosters hopped around and four mongrel dogs sat in the shade of a
sweet olive tree. The ground around them was scattered with dried
turds and dead blades of grass.
The house
was even worse.
It looked
as if the main beams had been broken. The roof was caved in; all four
walls leaned inward. The old two-story farm house had been folded
into a squat hut. There was a pipe sticking out near the top of one
of the slanted walls, a weak rag of smoke coming from it. If it
wasn’t for that I’d’ve thought we had come on a
deserted wreck.
One of the
dogs got up, snarling and slavering at Mouse. It snapped and growled
but just when it got near, Mouse slammed it on the side of the neck
with his pole. It was a very simple thing; he did it almost like
breathing, he was so blasé.
The dog’s
yelp was so sharp that you could feel his pain. He rolled in the
filth under the tree, making a terrible racket. The other dogs jumped
up and started pacing, back and forth.
That’s
when some boards that were once the front door of the house moved
outward. A strong-looking black man stood in the wreck of that
doorway. He wore overalls with no shirt and you could see the
strength in his arms and chest like flats of dark steel. He looked
like he belonged in the fields all day long, tearing up the sod and
yanking trees out by the root.
Mouse
dropped his stick. ‘Hey there, Reese,’ he said.
The big
man came out of the doorway but he seemed to bring the shadows along
with him.
‘This
here’s my friend - Easy Rawlins.’
I said
hello but the farmer didn’t even look at me. He was watching
his dog, who by then had stopped wallowing and was simply laying in
the dirt, shivering like one of the fish Mouse had stunned earlier
that morning.
‘Wha’
happen my dog, Raymond?’
‘Search
me. He run up like he knew me an’ then he fell into a fit.’
Mouse stared Reese straight in the face. He wasn’t letting
anything show, except a slight squint from the sun.
‘Ain’t
no room in the house fo’no guests, Ray. What you want?’
Mouse
hunkered down against a rotted bale of hay and said, ‘Just
wanted to shout at ya, Reese, you know it’s been some years an’
I thought I’d see ya while we down here.’
‘I
ain’t got no food and no drinks fo’ guests neither. So if
you got sumpin’ t’say then let’s have it.’
I was
sorry I talked Mouse into coming.
‘Looks
like you could use a hand out here, Reese. Farm’s goin’
to shit if you ask me.’
Reese took
a deep breath, you could see the rage. Watching Mouse bait him was
like watching a man striking matches over a vat of gasoline.
‘I
mean you might need some help out here an’, well you know I’m
kinda settlin’ down nowadays… gettin’ married to a girl
down in Houston.’
Reese was
through with small talk.
‘So
I thought maybe we talk some business. You know after my weddin’
I might wanna come on out here an’ do some honest work.’
That got a
smile from Reese. He said, ‘No, uh-uh. You go on an’ do
whatever it is you doin’. I stay out to here.’
‘Well
we don’t have to worry ‘bout that now. I thought you
wanna come on out an’ celebrate wit’ me an’ Easy.
You know it ain’t ev’ryday you get a daughter-in-law an’
maybe
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