“I'm sorry,” I says and I'm putting wood into the stove. “I don't trust you. If I untie you, you'll shoot me.”
“I swear to God I won't,” he says. “I just want my money.” He looks at the elephant again. “Just what are you doing with this thing?”
I turn to Jincy. “You want to fix up some breakfast?”
“Okay.” She starts picking the wood off the floor. “Really, we're just going to leave him tied up?”
I nod. “Fix some breakfast for him, too.”
Jincy cooks breakfast. Eggs and bacon.
“I don't want it,” Sid says, turning his face from the forkful of eggs that Jincy is holding.
“He won't eat,” Jincy complains. “What's wrong with it?” she asks Sid.
Sid's eyes catch hers and her eyes are watering up and Sid gets real gentle. “It's not the food, honey. I just can't eat when I'm tied up like this.”
“Tough.” Jincy takes the plate away.
I'm putting on my shoes and Jincy is staring at me. “I'm going into town.”
“What about him?” She points at Sid.
“He's tied up.”
She doesn't say anything. She just starts doing the dishes. I put on my jacket and leave.
Chapter 22
So, I'm in this tavern in Parkdale and I'm sitting at the bar having a beer. I'm thinking about things in general and it all strikes me funny. Here I am, a black ballplayer in the mountains of Oregon with an elephant, a smart-ass nine-year-old white girl, and a black Indian tied up in my dead manager's cabin. And to top it all off, I'm planning to fly off a mountain. I laugh out loud.
“What's so funny?” asks the barman.
I just shake my head and look down the bar and there's a woman with a bulbous nose and she's got a little bit of something on her upper lip. She wipes it away with her napkin and sniffs and I see this as my chance to catch a cold.
I ask the barman to give the woman down the way a beer and he gives her a wink and gives her the beer. The woman looks over at me and smiles and this is one ugly white woman. But I ain't interested in her, I'm interested in her cold. I slide along the bar and I says to her, “I want to kiss you on the lips.” Well, she gets madder than a wet hen and rears back like she's going to hit me and I says, “Wait, let me explain.” She calms down a little and I swallow. “I want to kiss you because you've got a runny nose.” And pop! she smacks me one across the face and I go back to the other end of the bar, holding my face.
“No luck, huh?” The barman chuckles.
“Let me have another beer,” I says and I look at the woman again. If it wasn't for the snot on her lip she'd have no appeal at all. I down a number of beers and I guess I ain't the only one who finds the woman unattractive because she's still alone. I'm a little drunk and I'm looking at that wet spot glistening under her bulbous nose and I walk over. And what I do is grab her and plant a big wet kiss on her mouth.
She lets out a scream and takes a swing and misses.
“What's the problem here?” asks the barman.
“He kissed me,” the woman says.
“Congratulations, Marsha,” the barman says, laughing as he turns to me. “You didn't really kiss her, did you?”
“Naw.”
He laughs louder and the woman yells, “Eat shit, Jerry!” And she walks out.
I have one more beer and I leave. Outside, waiting for me, is the ugly woman with the nose. She smiles at me. “I liked it when you kissed me,” she says. “I'm Marsha.”
I want nothing to do with this woman and I'm trying to walk away. “I'm glad you liked it.”
She's following me. “You're new around here.”
I'm getting into my truck.
“Oh, what a big truck,” says Marsha. “It's a beautiful night.” She's looking at me through the open window. “A nice night for a drive.”
I start up the truck. “I'm sorry.”
“I love it when you play hard to get.”
I'm driving away.
When I get back to the cabin I find Jincy waiting up for me. She smells the beer on my breath and sees that I'm a little drunk and she takes a step back.
“You're drunk,” she says.
“Yep.” I smile at her.
She starts to cry.
“What's wrong with you?” I look over at Sid. “What's wrong with her?”
“My daddy used to get that way and then he'd beat me.” She runs to her bed and buries her face in her pillow.
Sid looks at me and shakes his head. “You.”
“Me?” I pull a chair over and sit in front of Sid.
“So, you're drunk.”
“Yep. Drunk, d-r-u-n-c-h, drunk.” I rub my eyes. “Sixteenâcount 'emâsixteen beers and a kiss from ugly Marsha.”
Sid smiles. “Why don't you untie me, boy?”
“I'm drunk, not stupid.”
“Tell me about the elephant.”
“A bet, won him in a bet.” I pause and focus on Sid. “You should have seen ugly Marsha. She had a nose the size of a grapefruit.”
“Why'd you kiss her?” asked Jincy.
“âCause she had a runny nose.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“I kissed her so I could catch a cold.” Jincy is frowning now. “You know I need a fever.”
“I'll show you how to catch a cold,” says Sid.
“How?”
“Untie me and I'll show you.”
“I'm not stupid. You stay tied.”
“You kissed her,” Jincy says.
“Is there hair on it?” Naomi asked. We were sitting on an old bench in my garage.
“What?” I didn't know what she was talking about.
“Is there hair? Down there.” She pointed at my crotch.
I swallowed and tossed back my head. Rain was striking the roof. “Some.”
“Some?” Naomi laughed. Then she leaned over and kissed me. She pushed her tongue deep into my mouth, then rubbed it over my teeth. I closed my eyes and touched her tongue with mine. This really got to her and she hugged me and kissed me harder. Then she undid my trousers. I pulled away for a second, but she pulled me back. Now my tongue was in her mouth and she started sucking it and my eyes opened. I was perspiring heavily. I looked at her lowered lids; she looked so peaceful. Her hand slipped into my shorts and her fingers played with my penis. She squeezed it and let it fall through her fingers. Then she cupped my testicles and she giggled into my mouth. She removed her hand, grabbed my hand, and put it under her dress. My hand remained there motionless and then she pushed my elbow so that my hand touched her underwear. It was warm and damp there. She pushed my elbow again and I started groping at her panties. She put her hand back into my shorts. My fingers squeezed past her underwear and I felt the wet fold of flesh.
“What's going on here?!” screamed Ma, sliding under the garage door.
Naomi gasped, pushed my hand off, and ran away. I fastened up my trousers with quick, shaking hands.
“What are you doing?!”
I had no answer for her.
Ma ran to me and stared into my eyes. I stood up. She slapped me. It really stung. Then she hit me again. “Why? Why did you kiss her?”
“She kissed
me,”
I said.
“Same thing!” She stomped. “I don't believe you. I've got the milk you need. I'm your mother.” She began to pace. The rain stopped and there was no sound. “Don't kiss her anymore.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Kiss
me,”
she said and she grabbed my head. She put her lips against mine and tried to force her tongue between my teeth.
I pulled away and fell backwards over the bench. I was on my feet quickly and running for the door. I slid under the door onto the wet gravel outside. I ran to the pond and stretched on the wet grass. I cried.
The next morning I'm just dripping and sniffing like crazy and I'm just thrilled and Jincy is feeling my head for a fever.
“Seems normal to me,” she says.
“You're crazy,” I says, moving her hand and putting my knuckles against my cheek. “I'm burning up.”
Then there's a knock at the door and Jincy looks at me with scared eyes. I walk to the window and look out, but I don't see a car. I open the door a crack and it's Richard Beckwith. I let him in.
“I came by to see your
Loxodonta africana
again,” Beckwith says as he enters. He stops when he sees Sid and he turns to me.
“A guest,” I tell him.
“Why is he tied up?”
“He wants to kill me.”
“Why?”
“He's crazy,” I tell him.
Beckwith looks around and sees Jincy. “Everyone in town is looking for you.”
“You didn't tell anybody where I am, did you?” Jincy asks.
Beckwith shakes his head and then he looks at Renoir. “Damn,” he says, “that's one fine specimen.” He pauses. “Are you going to tell me where you got him?”
“Won him in a bet.”
Beckwith just looks at me. “If you don't want to tell me, just say so.”
“I told you.”
“Okay, okay. So, what are you going to do with him?” He's pointing at Sid.
“Keep him tied up.”
“I can call the sheriff from my place.”
“No, thanks.”
Beckwith looks at Renoir and Jincy and then nods. “I understand.” He looks at Renoir again. “Beautiful.”
“Do me a favor,” I says. “Put your hand up here on my face and tell me if I've got a fever.”
He puts his hand on my forehead and shakes his head. “Seems normal.”
I pull away from him. “Jesus, you're as bad as she is.” I'm pointing at Jincy. “I'm burning up.”
“Untie me so I can see,” says Sid. “Let me touch your face.”
“I don't think so,” I says.
Beckwith leaves and Jincy is staring at me.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“Just who did you kiss?”
“Just some woman.”
“Why?”
“Because she had a cold.” I sniff. “And now I've got it.”
“And what about him?” She's pointing at Sid.
“What about him?”
“He says you stole his money.” She pulls out the briefcase and opens it. “This money.”
Sid gasps.
“I didn't steal it, I ended up with it,” I tell her. “He was trying to kill me.”
Jincy's eyes are wet. “Why'd you kiss her?”
“I needed her cold.” I turn and walk out. “Jesus,” I mutter as I slam the door and I walk off toward the lake. I don't know how to read Jincy's behavior. It seems like she's jealous and I figure it's natural, but it's more complicatedâlike she thinks I'm her boyfriend.
I sat by the pond for a long time, watching the ducks and tossing stones into the water and thinking. Ma had me scared to death and I didn't know what to think about Naomi. She had caused some unfamiliar feelings to stir within me. When dark came I headed home. My eyes scanned the ground. Martin had left off shooting sparrows, so there were none.
As I approached the house I saw Bud. He was in the backyard. I watched him as he untied Django. The dog went running off.
“Why'd you do that?” I asked, running to Bud.
He was startled. “Oh, Bird,” he said.
“Why?”
“I just couldn't stand to see him tied up.”
“But Mr. Simpsonâ”
“That's called a chance,” Bud said and started back toward the house. I walked with him. “If Mr. Simpson shoots him, then he shoots him. At least the dog is free to get shot.”
“That's not fair,” I said. “The dog doesn't know anything.”
Bud stopped at the door and turned to me. “Nothing's fair and nobody knows anything. That's just the way it is.” He looked at my puzzled expression. “You don't understand. Don't worry, what I'm saying doesn't make any sense.”
Then a rifle shot rang out. “It's your fault!” I cried and hit him in the stomach.
He stared at me without expression. Then he stepped into the house.
Bud was gone when I woke up the next morning. I sat in the living room and recalled his playing.
Chapter 23
Sid's been tied up for some days now and he's complaining that his circulation has stopped, even though I've let him up to walk around the cabin a few times. He's also complaining about the fact that he's only had eggs and bacon to eat.
“Eggs and bacon, bacon and eggs.” Sid turns his cheek to the loaded fork.
“Eat it,” Jincy says, poking Sid's face with the fork.
“Hey!” Sid yells. “How'd you like me to poke you in the face?”
“Eat!”
“I'm sick of eggs and bacon.”
“Eat!”
I'm sitting at the table, doing my neck exercises and looking at my wing plans. I need some plastic tubing and strong thin plastic, like garbage bags. I get up and grab my hat.
“Where are you going?” Jincy asks.
“To town. You need anything?”
“Food,” Sid says.
“What are you going to town for?”
“Materials,” I answer. “For my wings.” I look at Jincy's silent face for a second and then I leave.
So, I'm in town and I'm looking across the counter in the general store at the fella with the buck teeth and the enormous forehead. On the counter I've got plastic tubing and about a dozen boxes of trash bags of assorted kinds.
“What do you need all these trash bags for?” asks the clerk.
I think at first it's none of his business, but I says, “You expect me to fly without wings?”
He just looks at me.
“I'm going to fly off Willet Rock.”
The clerk laughs and looks at the merchandise on the counter. “Looks like fifteen dollars.”
“I'm serious,” I tell him, handing him a twenty-dollar bill.
He gives me my change and laughs louder. “I like you.” He catches his breath and looks at me. “They tell me you're Craig Suder, the ballplayer. Why ain't you playing ball?”
I collect my goods and I leave and waiting for me by my truck is ugly Marsha.