33
Couple of days went by and the white strip hung from the oak limb and the weather turned deadly hot and the trees sagged as if the sky were leaning its weight on them. Grasshoppers were everywhere, nibbling at what greenery they could find.
Walking about was like trudging through invisible bread dough and breathing was like sucking up dried leaves. At night, Sunset came out and sat by the oak. Clyde had taken to sleeping in his truck in the yard, and Lee was sleeping on the business side of the tent, with Goose, and she and Karen were sharing the other side.
But when everyone was sleeping, Sunset went out, found Ben, pulled a chair next to the oak, waited for Bull to show up. Sat there petting the dog until he tired of that business and lay down at her feet.
After a couple of nights, she was starting to have doubts Bull would show. He didn’t really owe her anything, and what goodwill he felt for her may have passed. He might never come this way again, never even know a rag was hanging.
She thought about Hillbilly, remembered how he had touched her and cooed to her and made her feel. She thought about Karen, what he must have said to her to have his way. Maybe he said the same things to Karen he said to her. Though, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember him making her a promise at all. Not with words, anyway, but his hands and lips and eyes spoke volumes, and those were all lies.
She was glad her daddy had kicked his ass.
And yet she hoped he wasn’t hurt bad.
Hoped his looks weren’t spoiled.
She didn’t like him, but didn’t like to think of him messed up, ruined. The kind of beauty he had ought not be ruined. Fact was, it shouldn’t age, never change one teeny bit.
And what about Henry and McBride and the one called Two? What of them? What should she do?
She was thinking on this when Lee came out holding a cup of coffee in either hand. She looked up as he came over. “I thought you were asleep.”
“You think I’m asleep every night when you come out here. Besides, Goose snores.” He handed her a cup of coffee. “Thought you might want this.”
She smiled at him. “Sure.”
Lee had her hold both cups while he dragged the other chair over, sat down, took a cup and sipped it.
“Daddy, I’m in kind of a mess. I ain’t sure what to do about things.”
“You saying you want to tell me?”
“Yes.”
And she did. Told him all of it, about Zendo and Zendo’s land, about Henry Shelby and McBride and Two, about her talk with them in the church. And for the first time she told someone about Bull, about the rag she had tied to the oak.
She ended saying, “I think maybe they’ll take it out on Zendo. I decided just now I’m going to have Clyde go there, maybe be a lookout, in case they send someone around. Have him go over there with a shotgun. And then there’s Bull. He said he’d help.”
“People say lots of things.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“I’ve said some things myself, but there’s not a thing I say now I don’t mean. Do you believe that?”
“I’m trying. I want to believe. But that’s the story of my life, believing the wrong people.”
“All right then, for what it’s worth. You can look at this two ways. It ain’t really your problem. You didn’t cheat Zendo. It’s not your fault someone might want him killed. You could just warn him, move on, let it go.
“Course, if he’s out of the way, a little nifty work with a pen, that land could end up theirs. With him alive, they could do it anyway, but he might could make enough of a stink to prove it’s his. So either way, you’re taking a chance with his life.”
“I want answers, not choices.”
“I might have been able to give you some years ago, during my preacher days, cause I thought I knew everything. What I do know is you got to have a kind of center, Sunset. You follow me? You got to work out of that center, and you don’t let that center shift. You may fail it, but you don’t let it shift.”
“All right, that’s all well and good. But what do I do? I thought about telling Zendo, but I’ve been afraid to tell him. Thought that might be worse for him. He might say or do something he shouldn’t.”
Lee sipped coffee slowly, said, “In other words, you’re not treating him like a man. You’re treating him like a slave that needs tending, and you’re his massa.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I’m saying how it seems to me.”
“People here, a lot of them, they see it that way. That a colored ain’t supposed to make too many decisions. I try and treat Zendo like he’s not colored, and he thinks he can make some choices like everyone else, I could get him killed.”
“You could treat him like a man, go to him, tell him the truth, say, hey, I don’t know what I can do for you. There’s just me, and Clyde, and my run-down old man, and these guys, they’re professionals and serious. Cheating and killing, that’s what they do. So you’re on your own. Then you’ve warned him. It’s up to him to take care of himself. You could do that.”
“And my center wouldn’t have shifted?”
“You have to decide that. I can’t tell you that. You got to feel you’ve done the right thing, what you could.”
“Or?”
“You do the job you signed on for. Most of the time this job isn’t anything much, but sometimes it might be. And when it is, do you decide then to not do it because it’s hard? Could be you’re not up to it, and if you’re not, that’s no shame, that’s just the way it is. But if you’re up to it and not willing, that’s a whole different thing.”
“How do you know you’re up to it?”
“You don’t. But you got to want to be up to it.”
“And if I decide I want to be?”
“Plan. And count me in.”
“Howdy.”
Sunset and Lee jumped.
Ben sat up, looked embarrassed, like, man, I’m the goddamn dog here, and I didn’t hear this fella, didn’t see him.
Standing behind them, one hand on the back of Sunset’s chair, was Bull. The air seemed charged with electricity, and it was full of an earthy smell that bit at their nostrils.
“Don’t you ever come up normal?” Sunset said.
“I don’t know normal,” Bull said.
“Daddy, this is Bull.”
“Hello, Bull,” Lee said. “You damn near made me load my pants.”
Bull grinned, gestured at the white strip hanging from the limb. “See you done hung the rag out. Need me?”
“I do,” Sunset said.
“What way?”
“Zendo, a colored fella. He needs a protector.”
“You mean the farmer?” Bull asked.
“Yeah. You know him?”
“Know who he is. Everyone knows who he is, cause of the way he farms, way his soil is, like it’s magic or something. He can grow big old tomatoes in the hottest of weather, corn higher than two of me. He’s the best there is. He’s got a name for it.”
“That’s right,” Sunset said. “Even while we’re talking, it could have already happened, someone getting to him, hurting him and his family.”
“Why would anyone do that?” Bull asked.
Sunset explained. When she finished, Bull went over and sat down with his back against the oak, considering. After a moment he said, “So you waited on me for this? Ain’t there plenty of white men around? Your daddy looks ready enough. Little long in the tooth, like me, but them’s the ones you got to watch, ain’t that right, dad?”
“That’s right,” Lee said.
“You kind of waited a while to decide maybe Zendo needs help, didn’t you?” Bull said.
“I don’t think I really knew what I wanted until tonight,” Sunset said. “I don’t think he was in any real trouble till just lately, after I talked with Henry and McBride. But even then, I didn’t really know what to do. Then tonight, I talked to Daddy, and well, he said some things, and it come together. I think. And frankly, this watching Zendo, I think you’re better able to do it than me, or Clyde or Dad.”