the morning she had gone to Wichita Falls and spent $150; to kill the afternoon she had had three drinks and several rubbers of bridge at the country club. It seemed unjust that after all that work she should still have the problem of how to kill the night. She got up and went out in the hall, where she could see her wristwatch. It was only a little after ten.
After considering a moment she went to the kitchen and got a whiskey glass out of the cabinet. Bourbon was her night drink. She picked up the wall phone and dialed the poolhall and Sam the Lion answered.
"Hi, friend," she said. "How are you?"
"Hi, honey," Sam said. "I'm winterin' fairly well. How about you?"
"Oh, I won't complain," Lois said. "I wish you'd come and see me sometime. Has your number one customer left for the night?"
"No, he's here shootin'," Sam said. "I'll let you talk to him as soon as he finishes his run. You come and see me, you got a car."
In a minute or so Abilene took the phone. "Yeah," he said.
"Hey. Feel like a night off?"
"Depends on the salary," he replied.
"Well, drill hard," she said. "You're better at oil wells anyway."
She took her bourbon into the den and switched the TV on. A Claudette Colbert movie was just starting. She pulled her bathrobe around her and settled back in Gene's big leather chair to watch. From time to time she rubbed her calves. When the third commercial came on she went back to the kitchen and refilled her whiskey glass.
chapter six
After Civics class Tuesday morning Coach Popper stopped Sonny in the hall. There had been an assembly that morning and the coach had on a necktie, an article of dress he seldom wore.
"Like your tie, Coach," Sonny said jokingly. It was a bright orange necktie and it stuck out from under the coach's shirt collar in the back.
"Purty, ain't it," the coach said distractedly. "Need you to do somethin' for me. Ruth's been sick the last couple of days and needs somebody to drive her to Olney to the doctor. She's afraid they might drug her or something so she wouldn't be able to drive home. If you'll drive her down and back I'll get you out of your afternoon classes."
Sonny immediately accepted the offer. He was for anything that would get him out of algebra class. The Poppers' house was only a couple of blocks from school and as soon as he finished lunch he walked over. He looked through the doorpanes before he knocked and saw that Mrs. Popper was ready to go. She was sitting in the living room, her purse in her lap.
"Oh hello, Sonny, what do you want?" she asked, when she came to the door.
"Coach said you needed a driver," he said. "I thought he told you I was coming."
Mrs. Popper looked disappointed but she tried hard to hide it. "No, he didn't mention it," she said. "I thought he was going to drive me himself. I guess he just couldn't get off."
She handed Sonny the keychain and he went and got the car out of their garage. It was a black '53 Chevy. When Mrs. Popper got in she had a Kleenex in her hand and was daubing at her eyes with it. Sonny felt like he ought to say something to cheer her up, but he couldn't think of anything. The Chevy didn't have much pickup but it ran smoothly once they got on the road. The wind was rust ling dust in the dry bar ditches beside the highway.
"I'm sorry to be all this trouble," Mrs. Popper said. "You're very nice to drive me."
"It sure beats sittin' through algebra," he said.
Mrs. Popper smiled, but neither of them spoke again, all the way to Olney. Sonny watched the road, only glancing at her occasionally; she was looking out the window at the gray pastures. Her hair was brown with just a few traces of gray, and she wore it long, almost shoulder length. There was something about her that was really pretty. She was a little too thin, and her skin was too fair for the country she lived in: wind and sun freckled her on her cheekbones and beneath her eyes. Just before they got to the clinic she opened her purse and got out her lipstick, but
After considering a moment she went to the kitchen and got a whiskey glass out of the cabinet. Bourbon was her night drink. She picked up the wall phone and dialed the poolhall and Sam the Lion answered.
"Hi, friend," she said. "How are you?"
"Hi, honey," Sam said. "I'm winterin' fairly well. How about you?"
"Oh, I won't complain," Lois said. "I wish you'd come and see me sometime. Has your number one customer left for the night?"
"No, he's here shootin'," Sam said. "I'll let you talk to him as soon as he finishes his run. You come and see me, you got a car."
In a minute or so Abilene took the phone. "Yeah," he said.
"Hey. Feel like a night off?"
"Depends on the salary," he replied.
"Well, drill hard," she said. "You're better at oil wells anyway."
She took her bourbon into the den and switched the TV on. A Claudette Colbert movie was just starting. She pulled her bathrobe around her and settled back in Gene's big leather chair to watch. From time to time she rubbed her calves. When the third commercial came on she went back to the kitchen and refilled her whiskey glass.
chapter six
After Civics class Tuesday morning Coach Popper stopped Sonny in the hall. There had been an assembly that morning and the coach had on a necktie, an article of dress he seldom wore.
"Like your tie, Coach," Sonny said jokingly. It was a bright orange necktie and it stuck out from under the coach's shirt collar in the back.
"Purty, ain't it," the coach said distractedly. "Need you to do somethin' for me. Ruth's been sick the last couple of days and needs somebody to drive her to Olney to the doctor. She's afraid they might drug her or something so she wouldn't be able to drive home. If you'll drive her down and back I'll get you out of your afternoon classes."
Sonny immediately accepted the offer. He was for anything that would get him out of algebra class. The Poppers' house was only a couple of blocks from school and as soon as he finished lunch he walked over. He looked through the doorpanes before he knocked and saw that Mrs. Popper was ready to go. She was sitting in the living room, her purse in her lap.
"Oh hello, Sonny, what do you want?" she asked, when she came to the door.
"Coach said you needed a driver," he said. "I thought he told you I was coming."
Mrs. Popper looked disappointed but she tried hard to hide it. "No, he didn't mention it," she said. "I thought he was going to drive me himself. I guess he just couldn't get off."
She handed Sonny the keychain and he went and got the car out of their garage. It was a black '53 Chevy. When Mrs. Popper got in she had a Kleenex in her hand and was daubing at her eyes with it. Sonny felt like he ought to say something to cheer her up, but he couldn't think of anything. The Chevy didn't have much pickup but it ran smoothly once they got on the road. The wind was rust ling dust in the dry bar ditches beside the highway.
"I'm sorry to be all this trouble," Mrs. Popper said. "You're very nice to drive me."
"It sure beats sittin' through algebra," he said.
Mrs. Popper smiled, but neither of them spoke again, all the way to Olney. Sonny watched the road, only glancing at her occasionally; she was looking out the window at the gray pastures. Her hair was brown with just a few traces of gray, and she wore it long, almost shoulder length. There was something about her that was really pretty. She was a little too thin, and her skin was too fair for the country she lived in: wind and sun freckled her on her cheekbones and beneath her eyes. Just before they got to the clinic she opened her purse and got out her lipstick, but
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