Cujo

'You tell me what the fuck you been up to, Charity!'

'Sit down and eat,' she said quietly, 'and I will.'

He sat down and she brought his plate. There was a sirloin steak on it.

'Since when can we afford to eat like the Rockefellers?' he asked. 'You got some pretty tall explaining to do, I'd say.'

She brought his coffee and a split baked potato. 'Can't you use the chainfall?'

'Never said I couldn't use it. But I damn well can't afford it.' He began to eat, his eyes never leaving her. He wouldn't hit her now, she knew. This was her chance, while he was still relatively sober. If he was going to hit her, it would be after he came back from Gary Pervier's, sloshing with vodka and filled with wounded male pride.

Charity sat down across from him and said, 'I won the lottery.'

His jaws halted and then began moving again. He forked steak into his mouth. 'Sure,' he said. 'And tomorrow ole Cujo out there's gonna shit a mess of gold buttons.' He pointed his fork at the dog, who was pacing restlessly up and down the porch. Brett didn't like to take him over to the Bergerons' because they had rabbits in a hutch and they drove Cujo wild.

Charity reached into her apron pocket, took out her copy of the prize claim form that the agent had filled out, and handed it across the table to Joe.

Camber flattened the paper out with one blunt-fingered hand and stared it up and down. His eyes centred on the figure. 'Five -' He began, and then shut his mouth with a snap.

Charity watched him, saying nothing. He didn't smile. He didn't come around the table and kiss her. For a man with his rum of mind, she thought bitterly, good fortune only meant that something was lying in wait.

He looked up at last. 'You won five thousand dollars?'

'Less taxes, ayuh.'

'How long you been playing the lottery?'

'I buy a fifty-center every week ... and you don't dare dun me about it, either, Joe Camber, with all the beer you buy.'

'Watch your mouth, Charity,' he said. His eyes were unblinking, brilliant blue. 'Just watch your mouth, or it might swell up on you all at once.' He began to eat his steak again, and behind the set mask of her face, she relaxed a little. She had thrust the chair in the tiger's face for the first time, and it hadn't bitten her. At least not yet. 'This money. When do we get it?'

'The check will come in two weeks or a little less. I bought the chainfall out of the money that's in our savings account. That claim form is just as good as gold. That's what the agent said.'

'You went out and bought that thing?'

'I asked Brett what he thought you'd want most. It's a present.'

'Thanks.' He went on eating.

'I got you a present,' she said. 'Now you give me one, Joe. Okay?'

He went on eating and he went on looking at her. He didn't say anything. His eyes were totally expressionless. He was eating with his hat on, still pushed back on his head. She spoke to him slowly, deliberately, knowing it would be a mistake to rush. 'I want to go away for a week. With Brett. To see Holly and Jim down in Connecticut.'

'No,' he said, and went on eating.

'We could go on the bus. We'd stay with them. It would he cheap. There would be plenty of money left over. That found money. It wouldn't cost a third of what that chainfall cost. I called the bus station and asked them about the round-trip fare.'

'No. I need- Brett here to help me.'

She clutched her hands together in a hard, twisting fury under the table, but made her face remain calm and smooth. 'You get along without him in the school year.'

'I said no, Charity,' he said, and she saw with galling, bitter certainty that he was enjoying this. He saw how much she wanted this. How she had planned for it. He was enjoying her pain. She got up and went to the sink, not because she had anything to do there, but because she needed time to get herself under control. The evening star peeped in at her, high and remote. She ran water. The porcelain was a discolored yellowish color. Like Joe, their water was hard.

Maybe disappointed, feeling that she had given up too easily, Camber elaborated. 'The boy's got to learn some responsibility. Won't hurt him to help me this summer instead of running off to Davy Bergeron's house every day and night.'

She turned off the water. 'I sent him over there.'

'You did? Why?'

'Because I thought it might go like this,' she said, turning back to him. 'But I told him you'd say yes, what with the money and the chainfall.'

'If you knew better, you sinned against the boy,' Joe said. 'Next time I guess you'll think before you throw your tongue in gear.' He smiled at her through a mouthful] of food and reached for the bread.

'You could come with us, if you wanted.'

'Sure. I'll just tell Richie Simms to forget getting in his first cutting this summer. Besides, why do I want to go down and see them two? From what I've seen of them and what you tell of them, I got to think they're a couple of first-class snots. Only reason you like them is because you'd like to be a snot like them.' His voice was gradually rising. He began to spray food. When he got like this he frightened her and she gave in. Most times. She would not do that tonight. 'Mostly you'd like the boy to be a snot like them. That's what I think. You'd like to turn him against me, I guess. Am I wrong?'

'Why don't you ever call him by his name?'

'You want to just shut the craphouse door now, Charity,' he said, looking at her hard. A flush had crept up his cheeks and across his forehead. 'Mind me, now.'

'No,' she said. 'That's not the end.'

He dropped his fork, astounded. 'What? What did you say?'

She walked towards him, allowing herself the luxury of total anger for the first time in her marriage. But it was all inside, burning and sloshing like acid. She could feel it eating. She daren't shout. To shout would be the end for sure. She kept her voice low.

'Yes, you'd think that about my sister and her husband. Sure you would. Look at you, sitting there and eating with your dirty hands and your hat still on. You don't want him down there seeing how other people live. Just the same way I don't want him seeing how you and your friends live when you're off to yourselves. That's why I wouldn't let him go on that hunting trip with you last November.'

She paused and he only sat there, a half-eaten slice of Wonder Bread in one hand, steak juice on his chin. She thought that the only thing keeping him from springing at her was his total amazement that she should be saying these things at all.

'So I'll trade with you,' she said. 'I've got you that chainfall and I'm willing to hand over the rest of the money to you - lots wouldn't - but if you're going to be so ungrateful, I'll go you one more. You let him go down with me to Connecticut, and I'll let him go up to Moosehead with you come deerhunting season.' She felt cold and prickly all over, as if she had just offered to strike a bargain with the devil.

'I ought to strap you,' he said wonderingly. He spoke to her as if she were a child who had misunderstood some very simple case of cause and effect. 'I'll take him hunting with me if I want, when I want. Don't you know that? He's my son. God's sake. If I want, when I want.' He smiled a little, pleased with the sound it made. 'Now - you got that?'