So. Two weeks in a row.”
Red grinned across the table.
Hank sipped the scalding hot brew,
thick enough to float a cartridge as some said, and he also
wondered if that was maybe something other than cow’s milk for
whitener, but he said nothing.
“ What?”
“ In church.”
“ Ah.”
Red waited but then so did
Hank.
Yet he couldn’t resist a
smile.
“ What?” Red could be a
persistent devil, perhaps it was the inevitable boredom and
isolation.
A big strong fellow, just hitting his
peak at or so he claimed, Red was a widower. His wife died maybe
ten years back. Hank envied the man his confidence, but he lived
right in town here. Red got to talk to people every day.
Living just on the north end of town,
he came in once a day whether he needed something or not. It gave
Excelsior, a grandiose-enough name for the shaggy old critter he
rode, a little exercise. Lower and squatter than a horse, critters
gave the impression of a very large mastiff with thick ankles and
elephant’s toes on the feet, but they were good mounts and easily
domesticated.
Red had raised the creature from a pup,
having found it wandering on one of his hunting trips.
The bawling of the thing was what led
him to it, but then they were cute as the belly button on a dead
flier at that age and he didn’t have the heart to shoot it, let
alone eat it.
“ Have you got religion,
Hank?” Red had a knowing air.
“ Not really.” No one around
paid them the slightest mind.
It was no one’s business but his own
and Hank normally kept his own close counsel on many
things.
Other than that, he didn’t get out much
and was a man of few words. Which was one reason for the
difficulties, he supposed. He might as well let him in on
it.
“ I’ve been invited over for
lunch. Or brunch—whatever that is, I think eggs and rolls and salad
and things.” Hank sipped carefully at the coffee, grateful that it
was always free.
It’s not like he abused the privilege.
It wasn’t good enough to be any sort of a draw.
“ Who? Where?”
“ The Morgensen’s.” They
lived down a side street, he would make a right turn and then a
left after the one and only block, and then the street went about
another three blocks.
They lived on the north side at the
other end in a small bungalow with a veranda on the front,
buff-coloured brick, one of the few brick houses in town, and a
cottage-style roof of shakes.
He couldn’t miss it.
As a boy, Hank had lived in a tent on
the outskirts of town, scrounging a living and doing all right
until he began to have ideas. He wasn’t sure if the Morgensen’s had
lived there at the time or not.
The look on Hank’s face was
priceless.
“ Well, I’ll be damned.” Red
stared fixated on Hank’s shifty eyes and flushing red
features.
“ Whoo-ee.”
Red said nothing more as he took a
careful sip. Hank settled a little lower into the chair, afraid to
look around and see who might be eavesdropping. Hopefully Red would
have some sense and not press too hard.
“ She’s not bad.” Red bit his
lip, and his eyes went into that why
didn’t I think of that? look he got from
time to time.
Hank didn’t enlighten him.
“ I got to talking to them
last Sunday.” Hank was sort of misleading Red as to exactly when
all this happened, and what brought it on, in order to stall off
too many inordinate questions. “Anyway, Polly asked me and I said
yes.”
The fact was, his belly was rumbling
now, just thinking about it. Hank tended to a pretty staple diet,
not much variety there that didn’t come from all-too-familiar
sources.
“ Ah, yes.” Red rubbed his
chin. “How long have you been thinking about all this?”
“ It’s just company, Red.”
Hank cleared his husky throat.
He was beginning to get a little nervy
thinking about the afternoon. He pulled out his silver wind-up
wrist-watch. The band had broken long ago, and he checked the time.
A half hour or twenty minutes should do it. It had been his
father’s watch,
Red grinned across the table.
Hank sipped the scalding hot brew,
thick enough to float a cartridge as some said, and he also
wondered if that was maybe something other than cow’s milk for
whitener, but he said nothing.
“ What?”
“ In church.”
“ Ah.”
Red waited but then so did
Hank.
Yet he couldn’t resist a
smile.
“ What?” Red could be a
persistent devil, perhaps it was the inevitable boredom and
isolation.
A big strong fellow, just hitting his
peak at or so he claimed, Red was a widower. His wife died maybe
ten years back. Hank envied the man his confidence, but he lived
right in town here. Red got to talk to people every day.
Living just on the north end of town,
he came in once a day whether he needed something or not. It gave
Excelsior, a grandiose-enough name for the shaggy old critter he
rode, a little exercise. Lower and squatter than a horse, critters
gave the impression of a very large mastiff with thick ankles and
elephant’s toes on the feet, but they were good mounts and easily
domesticated.
Red had raised the creature from a pup,
having found it wandering on one of his hunting trips.
The bawling of the thing was what led
him to it, but then they were cute as the belly button on a dead
flier at that age and he didn’t have the heart to shoot it, let
alone eat it.
“ Have you got religion,
Hank?” Red had a knowing air.
“ Not really.” No one around
paid them the slightest mind.
It was no one’s business but his own
and Hank normally kept his own close counsel on many
things.
Other than that, he didn’t get out much
and was a man of few words. Which was one reason for the
difficulties, he supposed. He might as well let him in on
it.
“ I’ve been invited over for
lunch. Or brunch—whatever that is, I think eggs and rolls and salad
and things.” Hank sipped carefully at the coffee, grateful that it
was always free.
It’s not like he abused the privilege.
It wasn’t good enough to be any sort of a draw.
“ Who? Where?”
“ The Morgensen’s.” They
lived down a side street, he would make a right turn and then a
left after the one and only block, and then the street went about
another three blocks.
They lived on the north side at the
other end in a small bungalow with a veranda on the front,
buff-coloured brick, one of the few brick houses in town, and a
cottage-style roof of shakes.
He couldn’t miss it.
As a boy, Hank had lived in a tent on
the outskirts of town, scrounging a living and doing all right
until he began to have ideas. He wasn’t sure if the Morgensen’s had
lived there at the time or not.
The look on Hank’s face was
priceless.
“ Well, I’ll be damned.” Red
stared fixated on Hank’s shifty eyes and flushing red
features.
“ Whoo-ee.”
Red said nothing more as he took a
careful sip. Hank settled a little lower into the chair, afraid to
look around and see who might be eavesdropping. Hopefully Red would
have some sense and not press too hard.
“ She’s not bad.” Red bit his
lip, and his eyes went into that why
didn’t I think of that? look he got from
time to time.
Hank didn’t enlighten him.
“ I got to talking to them
last Sunday.” Hank was sort of misleading Red as to exactly when
all this happened, and what brought it on, in order to stall off
too many inordinate questions. “Anyway, Polly asked me and I said
yes.”
The fact was, his belly was rumbling
now, just thinking about it. Hank tended to a pretty staple diet,
not much variety there that didn’t come from all-too-familiar
sources.
“ Ah, yes.” Red rubbed his
chin. “How long have you been thinking about all this?”
“ It’s just company, Red.”
Hank cleared his husky throat.
He was beginning to get a little nervy
thinking about the afternoon. He pulled out his silver wind-up
wrist-watch. The band had broken long ago, and he checked the time.
A half hour or twenty minutes should do it. It had been his
father’s watch,
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