Blood kept running into his eyes and he tried to think. He held the arm and turned it and tried to see how badly it was bleeding. If the median artery were severed. He thought not. His head was ringing. No pain. Not yet.
Two teenage boys were standing there looking at him.
Are you all right, mister?
Yeah, he said. I'm all right. Let me just sit here a minute.
There's an ambulance comin. Man over yonder went to call one.
All right.
You sure you're all right.
Chigurh looked at them. What will you take for that shirt? he said.
They looked at each other. What shirt?
Any damn shirt. How much?
He straightened out his leg and reached in his pocket and got out his moneyclip. I need something to wrap around my head and I need a sling for this arm.
One of the boys began to unbutton his shirt. Hell, mister. Why didnt you say so? I'll give you my shirt.
Chigurh took the shirt and bit into it and ripped it in two down the back. He wrapped his head in a bandanna and he twisted the other half of the shirt into a sling and put his arm in it.
Tie this for me, he said.
They looked at each other.
Just tie it.
The boy in the T-shirt stepped forward and knelt and knotted the sling. That arm dont look good, he said.
Chigurh thumbed a bill out of the clip and put the clip back in his pocket and took the bill from between his teeth and got to his feet and held it out.
Hell, mister. I dont mind helpin somebody out. That's a lot of money.
Take it. Take it and you dont know what I looked like. You hear?
The boy took the bill. Yessir, he said.
They watched him set off up the sidewalk, holding the twist of the bandanna against his head, limping slightly. Part of that's mine, the other boy said.
You still got your damn shirt.
That aint what it was for.
That may be, but I'm still out a shirt.
They walked out into the street where the vehicles sat steaming. The streetlamps had come on. A pool of green antifreeze was collecting in the gutter. When they passed the open door of Chigurh's truck the one in the T-shirt stopped the other with his hand. You see what I see? he said.
Shit, the other one said.
What they saw was Chigurh's pistol lying in the floorboard of the truck. They could already hear the sirens in the distance. Get it, the first one said. Go on.
Why me?
I aint got a shirt to cover it with. Go on. Hurry.
He climbed the three wooden steps to the porch and tapped loosely at the door with the back of his hand. He took off his hat and pressed his shirtsleeve against his forehead and put his hat back on again.
Come in, a voice called.
He opened the door and stepped into the cool darkness. Ellis?
I'm back here. Come on back.
He walked through to the kitchen. The old man was sitting beside the table in his chair. The room smelled of old bacon-grease and stale woodsmoke from the stove and over it all lay a faint tang of urine. Like the smell of cats but it wasnt just cats. Bell stood in the doorway and took his hat off. The old man looked up at him. One clouded eye from a cholla spine where a horse had thrown him years ago. Hey, Ed Tom, he said. I didnt know who that was.
How are you makin it?
You're lookin at it. You by yourself?
Yessir.
Set down. You want some coffee?
Bell looked at the clutter on the checked oilcloth. Bottles of medicine. Breadcrumbs. Quarterhorse magazines. Thank you no, he said. I appreciate it.
I had a letter from your wife.
You can call her Loretta.
I know I can. Did you know she writes me?
I guess I knew she'd wrote you a time or two.
It's more than a time or two. She writes pretty regular. Tells me the family news.
I didnt know there was any.
You might be surprised.
So what was special about this letter then.
She just told me you was quittin, that's all. Set down.
The old man didnt watch to see if he would or he wouldnt. He fell to rolling himself a cigarette from a sack of tobacco at his elbow. He twisted the end in his mouth and turned it around and lit it with an old Zippo lighter worn through to the brass. He sat smoking, holding the cigarette pencilwise in his fingers.
Are you all right? Bell said.
I'm all right.
He wheeled the chair slightly sideways and watched Bell through the smoke. I got to say you look older, he said.
I am older.
The old man nodded. Bell had pulled out a chair and sat and he put his hat on the table.
Let me ask you somethin, he said.
All right.
What's your biggest regret in life.
The old man looked at him, gauging the question. I dont know, he said. I aint got all that many regrets. I could imagine lots of things that you might think would make a man happier. I reckon bein able to walk around might be one. You can make up your own list. You might even have one. I think by the time you're grown you're as happy as you're goin to be. You'll have good times and bad times, but in the end you'll be about as happy as you was before. Or as unhappy. I've knowed people that just never did get the hang of it.
I know what you mean.
I know you do.
The old man smoked. If what you're askin me is what made me the unhappiest then I think you already know that.
Yessir.
And it aint this chair. And it aint this cotton eye.
Yessir. I know that.
You sign on for the ride you probably think you got at least some notion of where the ride's goin. But you might not. Or you might of been lied to. Probably nobody would blame you then. If you quit. But if it's just that it turned out to be a little roughern what you had in mind. Well. That's somethin else.
Bell nodded.
I guess some things are better not put to the test.
I guess that's right.
What would it take to run Loretta off?
I dont know. I guess I'd have to do somethin that was pretty bad. It damn sure wouldnt be just cause things got a little rough. She's done been there a time or two.
Ellis nodded. He tipped the ash from his smoke into a jar-lid on the table. I'll take your word on that, he said.
Bell smiled. He looked around. How fresh is that coffee?
I think it's all right. I generally make a fresh pot here ever week even if there is some left over.
Bell smiled again and rose and carried the pot to the counter and plugged it in.
They sat at the table drinking coffee out of the same crazed porcelain cups that had been in that house since before he was born. Bell looked at the cup and he looked around the kitchen. Well, he said. Some things dont change, I reckon.
What would that be? the old man said.
Hell, I dont know.
I dont either.
How many cats you got?
Several. Depends on what you mean by got. Some of em are half wild and the rest are just outlaws. They run out the door when they heard your truck.
Did you hear the truck?
How's that?
I said did you… You're havin a little fun with me.
What give you that idea?
Did you?
No. I seen the cats skedaddle.
You want some more of this?
I'm done.
The man that shot you died in prison.
In Angola. Yes.
What would you of done if he'd been released?
I dont know. Nothin. There wouldnt be no point to it. There aint no point to it. Not to any of it.
I'm kindly surprised to hear you say that.
You wear out, Ed Tom. All the time you spend tryin to get back what's been took from you there's more goin out the door. After a while you just try and get a tourniquet on it. Your grandad never asked me to sign on as deputy with him. I done that my own self. Hell, I didnt have nothin else to do. Paid about the same as cowboyin. Anyway, you never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from. I was too young for one war and too old for the next one. But I seen what come out of it. You can be patriotic and still believe that some things cost more than what they're worth. Ask them Gold Star mothers what they paid and what they got for it. You always pay too much. Particularly for promises. There aint no such thing as a bargain promise. You'll see. Maybe you done have.