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He s gone to sleep, I said. Passed out.
He nodded.
I m going out to the highway and get the car. I ll come
back and pick him up.
That s a long ways, he said thoughtfully.
Two or three miles.
He didn t say anything else, but walked over toward
the corn crib. I went with him, and he opened the door
and looked in at Lee, who was sleeping noisily, with his
mouth open. There was something queer about it, but I
couldn t quite place it. He hadn t moved.
I ll drive you out to your car, Bob, Sam offered. It s
too fur to walk.
That s fine, Sam, I said. I appreciate it.
He pushed the stripdown out of the garage and
cranked it. I climbed up with him and we started down
the lane. As we went out through the wire gate I saw
Angelina come out of the house with a milk bucket.
The car was just a chassis with an old seat cushion
thrown on top of the gasoline tank. It was an old Ford,
and there weren t any fenders on it or any hood, just the
bare essentials. I could see what Sam had meant by not
Hill Girl 47
being able to haul a passed-out drunk. It was all we could
do to stay on it ourselves.
I don t know why it didn t hit me sooner. Maybe I just
wasn t up on my toes mentally, after the experiences of
the afternoon. Anyway, it wasn t until we had reached the
Buick and Sam had turned around and started back that
this awful suspicion began to creep up on me. He had
passed out too quickly and too easily.
I cursed the cunning of a drunk with only one thing on
his mind. He d figured that maybe Sam would do just
what he had, drive me out to the car and leave him alone
there on the place with that girl. Then I knew what it was
that had been queer about the way he looked. He d been
lying there with his head over on one side, asleep with
his mouth open. And it had been the first time I d ever
seen a drunk sleeping that way without saliva drooling
out the corner of his mouth.
The car was doing fifty by the time I shifted out of
second and I passed Sam in the old stripdown as if he
had a broken axle. I made the sharp, cutback turn off the
highway where Sam s road came in with a long
screaming slide and a cloud of dust.
As I blasted through the pines up there on the ridge in
that narrow pair of ruts I was praying I wouldn t meet
anybody. If I did, it would be plain murder. The road was
clear all the way.
Just before I hit Sam s place I pressed the horn as hard
as I could. As I shot through the gate and slid to a stop in
front of the house I got a quick flash of the girl, running
to the house from the direction of the corn crib.
I ran past the house without even looking toward her
and headed for the crib. As I rounded the corner of it I
almost kicked over the bucket of milk she d left there
right in the path. The damned fool, I thought. The
damned, stupid, insane little slut. The door was closed,
but I could hear Lee moving around inside and cursing.
Come back here! Come back! he was yelling at the
top of his voice.
I grabbed up the milk and ran toward the house and
burst right into the kitchen. She was there on the other
side of the oilcloth-covered table, leaning against it, with
her hands gripping the edge, breathing hard and glaring
at me.
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Here, you little fool! I said. And for Christ s sake pin
up that dress or put on another one before Sam sees you.
Quick!
You go to hell! she spat at me. Her eyes were hot and
smoky and her hair was tangled and there was a long
tear right down the front of that tight, sleazy dress,
almost to her belly.
I got back to the corn crib just as I heard the Ford
pulling up in the lane. Lee had the door open and was
weaving around, trying to climb out. I heard Sam
stopping in front of the house and I could tell from the
way he sounded that he was in a hurry too.
I pushed Lee back inside, not being gentle about it, just
shoving him back through the door like a bundle of old
rags.
Where is she? Where is that juicy little bitch? Tell her
to come back here! he kept saying.
I could hear Sam coming around the house, walking
fast, and there wasn t anything else to do or any time to
lose. I hit him. I slugged him hard on the side of the jaw
and he folded up at the base of the pile of corn. I
stretched him out the way he had been when we left.
Sam opened the door and looked in.
Maybe I better help you with him, Bob, he said after
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