Read Spencerville Page 20


  Baxter smiled. Yeah, we're gonna have it out. But you ain't gonna see it coming.

  Still the class bully.

  Yeah, and you're still the class asshole. Hey, remember I used to bump you in the hall? You'd like to forget that, wouldn't you? I used to eye-fuck your girlfriend, and you didn't do shit. I'd feel her up every chance I got, and you saw me and just stood there. You know what? She loved it. She wanted a man, not a fucking pussy. And, hey, by the way, if I ever see you talking to her, I'll cut your balls off and feed 'em to my dogs. I kid you not.

  Keith stood absolutely still. There was nothing to say after that, nothing to do now except let the man dig his own grave with his mouth.

  Baxter, on a roll now, continued, Hey, what do you do out here for pussy? If I catch you fuckin' the livestock, I'll run you in. You farm boys're always fuckin' the livestock, that's why they're so skittish. Your brother used to fuck the geese down by the lake and damn near killed half of them. He was the goose fucker. I remember him. And your sister—

  Stop it. Please stop.

  Say again?

  Please stop. Look . . . I'm leaving in a week. I just came back to see to the farm. I'm not staying. I'll be gone in about a week.

  Baxter looked closely at him, then said, Oh, yeah? Maybe I don't want you around that long.

  I just need a week.

  Tell you what—I'll give you six days. If you fuck up or piss me off, I'll kick the shit out of you and throw you on a fucking pig truck to Toledo. You understand?

  Yes.

  Go back to your barnyard shit. He turned to leave, then spun around and buried his fist in Keith's stomach.

  Keith doubled over and dropped to his knees.

  Baxter put the toe of his boot under Keith's chin and flipped his head up. Baxter said, Stay outa town.

  He walked back to the car, and Keith saw him and Ward giving each other high fives.

  They got into the car, turned and ran over a row of raspberry bushes, then peeled out on the gravel drive.

  Keith got to his feet and watched the car turn onto the road. He smiled and said, Thank you.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Cliff Baxter sat at his kitchen table and sliced a hunk of meat off his pork chop. He said, These damn things are burnt.

  Sorry.

  Potatoes're cold.

  Sorry.

  You forget how to cook?

  No.

  No wonder you ain't eatin'.

  I don't have an appetite.

  Appetite or no, this stuff ain't edible.

  Sorry.

  And thanks for offering to make me something else.

  What would you like?

  I'll go out and get something. :

  All right.

  He put down his knife and fork and looked at her. Something bothering you?

  No.

  You ain't sayin' much.

  I have a headache.

  That's too bad, 'cause I have a woody.

  Annie stiffened but said nothing.

  You finished with your period?

  No . . . not completely.

  Well, your gums ain't bleedin', are they? He took a drink from his beer can but kept looking at her. He said, I stopped by your Aunt Louise's today.

  She felt her stomach tighten.

  Cliff put down his beer can. Now, there's a woman who knows how to cook. What'd she make you for dinner last night?

  I . . . I didn't have dinner there.

  You didn't?

  No.

  That ain't what she said, sweetheart.

  Annie looked him in the eye and replied, Aunt Louise is becoming very absentminded. I was there last week for dinner. Last night I was just visiting.

  Is that a fact? Absentminded must run in the family. You been walkin' around with your head up your ass since you got home last night.

  I'm not feeling well.

  How so?

  I don't know . . . maybe I just miss the kids. I thought maybe I'd go visit them next week.

  They don't need you motherin' the hell out of them. If they want to see us, they can come home for the weekend.

  I wanted to make sure Wendy is settled in. It's her first time away from home, and—

  You know, I don't like that place. I don't like Bowling Green, and I think I'm gonna pull her outa there.

  No!

  He seemed almost startled by her tone. He leaned toward her. Say what?

  She likes it there.

  Oh, yeah? What she likes is that fucking coed dorm. They have that when you were there?

  No.

  What the fuck are they tryin' to do there? Promote fucking?

  Cliff . . . the world has changed—

  Not around here. This is a Christian house and a Christian community, and men and women don't live under the same roof if they're not married.

  I trust her to practice what she's been taught in church . . . and to follow our example. God help her, Annie thought.

  Cliff regarded her a long time, then observed, Yeah, there's somethin' on your mind.

  I just told you what was bothering me. Are you working tonight?

  Maybe. Hey, speaking of college, an old friend of yours is back in town.

  She got up and took her glass to the refrigerator, opened it, and poured iced tea. Her hands were shaking.

  You know who?

  No.

  Cliff stood and put his hand on the refrigerator door before she could shut it. I need a beer. He took a can out, and she closed the door.

  He stood looking at her a few seconds, then asked again, You don't know who?

  She made a decision and said, Oh, you mean Keith Landry.

  You know who the hell I mean.

  I heard he was back.

  I'm sure you did. I am sure you did. What else did you hear?

  Nothing. Do you want dessert?

  I ain't had dinner. Why do I want dessert?

  Are you going out for dinner?

  Don't fuck with me, lady. I'm talkin' to you.

  I'm listening, Cliff. Keith Landry is back in town. So what? Is there anything more?

  Well, now, that's the question. What do you mean?

  Jesus Christ, you fuckin' women know how to jerk a guy off, don't you?

  What do you want me to say, Cliff? He's back in town. I heard lt:, you heard it. Why are you so angry at me?

  They looked at each other, and of course they both knew exactly why Cliff Baxter was angry. He asked her, Why didn't you tell me he was back?

  It never crossed my mind.

  You're full of shit.

  Don't speak to me that way. She felt a real anger rise up in her which overcame her fear. She raised her voice and said, You may not speak to me that way. I'm leaving. She threw her glass in the sink and turned toward the door.

  He grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, and held her arms. You're not goin' nowhere.

  Stop it! Stop this! Let me go!

  He took his hands off her and backed away. Okay . . . I'm sorry. Okay, just calm down. Here, sit down. I just want to talk to you.

  She didn't trust him at all, but, reluctantly, she sat.

  He sat across from her and played with his beer can. Finally, he said, Well . . . you know how I am. I just get real jealous sometimes. And I got to thinking about your old boyfriend back in town, and I find out he's single, and I guess I just got myself worked up. Now, you should be happy that I care so much about you. Right?

  She thought of several sarcastic replies, any one of which would send him off the deep end. She said, I understand. But I really don't want to talk about this. There's nothing to talk about.

  Well, but you can see how this is going to bother me.

  It shouldn't.

  Why not? You mean a man who was fucking my wife is now livin' down the road, and that shouldn't bother me?

  Cliff . . . look, whatever I say is going to get you angry. If I say I don't care if he's down the road, you'll take it wrong, if I say it bothers me that he's he
re, you'll take it—

  Baxter slammed the table and the dishes, and Annie jumped. He said, You fucked the guy for six fucking years. And all you got to say is I shouldn't be fucking pissed off that he's down the road. What if one of my old girlfriends was down the road? How'd you like that?

  She wanted to remind him that he'd sometimes point out his old girlfriends to her and that all she felt was pity for them. Instead, she said, I guess that would really bother me.

  You're fucking right it would!

  Please don't shout. I know you're angry, but—

  Hey, you remember Cindy North? I fucked her for a year right before I started seeing you. What if she moved in next door and she was single? Would that piss you off?

  Of course.

  Yeah. So I'm not supposed to be pissed off?

  I didn't say that. Just don't be angry at me. I didn't do anything.

  But maybe you'd like to.

  Cliff, don't say that.

  You remember the good times with him, don't you?

  I don't remember any of it. It was over twenty years ago.

  He seemed almost surprised, she thought, that it was that many years. He said, But when you heard he was back, you got to thinkin' about those rolls in the hay. Where'd you fuck him? In the barn? You go down on him in your car?

  She stood, and he reached across the table, grabbed her belt, and pulled her down in the seat.

  Annie was frightened, but not for herself. She could handle him, but she had to warn Keith that Cliff was getting himself worked up. She took a deep breath and said, Cliff, sweetheart, I know you're angry, but there's no one in the world for me except you.

  He seemed to calm down, but clearly he was still seething. There damn well better not be.

  There isn't. I know you love me, and that's why you're angry. I'm very flattered. She knew she should quit while she was ahead, but she hated him so much, she couldn't resist lighting his short fuse again. She said, I don't want you thinking about what Keith and I did for six years.

  He looked at her but said nothing.

  She added, We were just young high school and college kids, and we just did what everyone was doing then. You should be happy I only did it with him and not—

  Shut up!

  Sorry.

  Shut up.

  She hung her head and stared at her plate,, trying to suppress a smile.

  A minute went by, then Cliff said, I don't want you talking to him or about him.

  I won't.

  Has he called you?

  She shook her head. Why would he—?

  You tried to call him?

  Not in a million years.

  Yeah? So you two ain't spoken since he's been back?

  Again, she made a decision, got up, and stood behind his chair. She said, Cliff, I can't lie to you . . . I ran into him on the street.

  He didn't say anything.

  She continued, I was with Charlene Helms, old Mrs. Whitney, and Pastor Schenk's wife, Marge. I just left the post office and ran into him. I didn't even recognize him, and when he started talking, I didn't even know who it was. You know, when people think you know who they are, and they start jabbering. It happens to you all the time. Then I realized who it was, and I just said, 'You have a nice day, Mr. Landry.' Then I walked off with the girls.

  She kept her hands on his shoulders and, though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his muscles tense up. She added, It really slipped my mind, Cliff, and when I remembered to mention it to you, you weren't around. I knew you might get angry, but I thought you should know I ran into him. But I guess I was a little scared to mention it, so maybe I buried it in my mind. I figured he was just visiting, and that was the end of it. She said, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'll never speak to him again. I swear.

  He sat motionless for a full minute, then said, You won't be able to.

  She felt her heart skip a beat and couldn't speak. Finally, she knew she had to say something, but she couldn't ask the obvious question. She said, I won't.

  You can't, you won't. I ran the son-of-a-bitch out of town.

  Oh . . .

  He stood and faced her, and he smiled. I stopped by his place this morning. That surprise you?

  No.

  I told him to get the fuck out of town. He said he'd be gone in a week.

  A week . . . ?

  Yeah. He's a fucking pussy, if you care to know.

  I don't care.

  He fucking begged me to let him stay a few more days. I gave him six days. I also gave him a shot in the gut, and he folded like a leaf. You shoulda seen that. He just went down like a log and laid there while I poured shit all over him. He wouldn't even defend himself. Hell, I offered to take off my gun and badge if he wanted to duke it out, but he was so scared he nearly pissed his pants. I can't believe you went out with this pussy.

  Annie bit her lip to keep it from trembling, but a tear ran down her cheek.

  Hey, you crying?

  No . . . She wiped her face. I'm just upset . . . that you had to do that.

  Upset? What the fuck is upset? You pissed at me?

  No.

  Jesus Christ, I don't get you. You cryin' because I decked him?

  No. Women get upset when their husbands do something dangerous.

  Dangerous? That fucking guy is not dangerous . . . well, I suppose he could have been. I didn't know when I went out there what to expect. But I knew I had to settle this thing, man-to-man.

  Please promise me you won't go out there again.

  I'm goin' out there to make sure he listened.

  Don't. Send someone else.

  He pinched her cheek. Don't worry about it. The guy must've lost his balls in 'Nam. Lucky you didn't marry him.

  He never asked.

  What the fuck do I care?

  She reached out and took a plate from the table. I'll clean up here.

  Later. You go on upstairs. He added, I'll be right up. You be ready. •-•-.-.

  Cliff. . .

  Yeah?

  She wanted to say to him, I fucked Keith last night, and I don't want you near me. She wanted to say that more than she wanted to plunge the carving knife in his heart. Cliff . . . I . . .

  Yeah? Got a headache? Upset? Havin' your period? What's your problem?

  Nothing.

  She walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She wanted to run out the front door, but she wouldn't get far. She wanted to scream, to go upstairs and cut her wrists, to drop a lamp on his head when he came up, to set the house on fire, to do anything except have sex with Cliff Baxter.

  She steadied herself on the banister and tried to think clearly. The only thing she could do was to pretend that everything was all right. She did that easily enough when she spoke to him, but in bed she could never pretend. He didn't seem to care or notice as long as she submitted. But this time she couldn't do even that. She came back into the kitchen.

  He was at the table, finishing his beer and looking at the newspaper. He glanced up at her. Yeah?

  I'd like a drink.

  He laughed. Yeah? Why? You can't fuck me sober?

  Sometimes a drink helps get me in the mood.

  Then have a bunch of drinks. God knows you ain't been in the mood for some time now.

  She went to the cupboard, took down a bottle of peach brandy, got a glass, and walked toward the hallway.

  Cliff glanced at her over his newspaper and said, Get yourself in the mood for some things you ain't done in a while, darlin'.

  She went into the hallway, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. She poured a tumbler full of brandy, closed her eyes, and drank it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She poured another, drank half of it, and sat on the bed and cried.

  She barely remembered taking off her clothes, but remembered when he came into the room. After that, she remembered nothing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The phone rang at the Landry farm at twenty minutes past eight on Saturday morning. Keith was in the kitch
en making coffee, and he answered it. Hello.

  Keith, I have to speak to you.

  He shut off the coffeepot. Are you all right?

  Yes. I'm at a pay phone in town. Can you meet me someplace?

  Of course. Where?

  I thought maybe the fairgrounds. There'll be no one there today.

  Then we don't belong there. Listen, you remember Reeves Pond, south of my place?

  Where we used to skate.

  Yes. Get some bread or something and go feed the ducks. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Is everything okay?

  Yes. No. She said, You have a rifle. I saw it—

  Yes, okay. Are you safe now?

  Yes, I'm all right. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. He's suspicious—

  Twenty minutes. He added, If you've been followed, go feed the ducks anyway, but leave your car door open as a signal. Understand?

  Yes.

  Take it easy. He hung up, went upstairs, and opened the wardrobe. He found his binoculars, then took two full magazines and put one in his pocket. The other he slammed into his M-16 rifle, pulled back on the charging handle, and chambered a round.

  He slung the rifle and the binoculars, went downstairs and out the front door. He crossed the road and ran to the Jenkins barn.

  Within five minutes, he'd saddled and mounted the mare, gave her a slap, and rode her out through the open paddock gate, across the road, and into the woods.

  He ducked as the mare picked her way through the trees and down the slope toward the shallow streambed. He reined her around, and they headed south downstream, toward the pond.

  A hundred yards from where the stream came out of the trees, he reined her in, dismounted, and tied her to a sapling.

  Keith continued on along the bank and stopped in the shadows of the last trees, a few yards from the sunlit shore of the big pond. There was no car parked on the grassy slope that descended to the pond on the far shore, and, in fact, there was no one in sight.