Hunts in Dreams by Tom Drury Page A

hasty breaking. Charles yawned and opened a bottle of beer, and Joan flipped through a stack of index cards on which she had written notes for the speech she would give over the weekend in the city. Micah scratched the center of his back with his thumb. His back always itched. When he observed his parents together and they were not aware of being watched, he thought of them by their names. Joan’s talk was about giving more freedom to the dogs and cats in shelters. That way not only would the animals have a more interesting life, she said, but the visitors who might adopt them would get a stronger sense of their personalities than if they saw them in cages, where they could only slink.
    â€œI just thought of something,” said Joan. “What if they’re already doing these things? Maybe I’ll be preaching to the converted.”
    Charles shrugged. “I find that unlikely,” he said. “And even if you are telling them what they want to hear, so what? They still want to hear it.”
    â€œIt all sounds so obvious.”
    â€œYou’ve read it six times, that’s why.”
    â€œMaybe I should cut this part about scratching posts.”
    â€œDance with the one who brung you, I say.”
    â€œI’d give anything just to stay home.”
    â€œNo, you wouldn’t.”
    â€œYes, I would.”
    â€œYou can’t wait.”
    â€œI couldn’t stay home if I wanted to. I’ve made commit- ments. You work alone. No one decides what you’re going to do except you.”
    â€œYou can’t wait to get in the water.”
    â€œI must take direction,” said Joan. “What do you mean by that?”
    â€œWho directed you to pack a swimming suit?”
    â€œI’m going to a hotel. There may be a pool. Therefore, I’m taking a swimming suit.”
    â€œYou meet someone, you have a nice swim, you towel off.”
    Joan took a deep breath and squared up her index cards. “Why did your first marriage end?”
    Charles held his beer bottle up to the light and looked at it. “Many reasons.”
    â€œJealousy.”
    â€œThat was one of them.”
    â€œThat was a big one of them. This feeling you have of, of, of ownership .”
    â€œOh, hell.”
    Joan sighed. “But let’s don’t start.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œLet’s change the subject.” She looked around the living room. “There was a man in the yard tonight.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œSomeone with a metal detector, according to Lyris. I didn’t like the sound of it.”
    â€œDon’t tell him,” said Micah, before he realized that he was not supposed to be there.
    â€œMicah?” said Joan. “What are you doing up?”
    â€œDon’t tell me what?” Charles said.
    â€œI can’t sleep.”
    â€œCome on down, honey,” said Joan.
    â€œWhat shouldn’t she tell me?”
    Micah sat beside Joan on the davenport and told Charles how he had shut Lyris in the barn.
    â€œWhat is with you?” said Charles. “Think what would hap- pen if you couldn’t get it unlocked.”
    â€œShe would break the doors.”
    â€œYou hope she would.”
    â€œNo,” said Joan. “She did.”
    â€œLyris broke the doors of the barn?”
    â€œWith a shovel,” said Micah.
    â€œNo kidding. Lyris is a tough one. But don’t ever try that again.”
    â€œAre you mad?”
    â€œI don’t want her locked in the barn. Everything is broken around here, and I don’t expect the barn doors will make any difference.”
    â€œCan we still get a goat?” said Micah.
    â€œWe’ll see.”
    The movie came on again. Charlie Chaplin was in a tavern with a pretty woman. They were dancing. Charlie had belted his pants with a rope, and the rope was tied to a dog. Then a cat showed up and the dog leaped after it, causing Charlie Chaplin to spill to the