Black Angus by Newton Thornburg Read Free Book Online

long.”
    â€œIt’s up to you,” she said.
    Gathering up his two bottles and his drink, Blanchard went over to Shea’s table and slid in next to the big man, who predictably offered a commentary on the event.
    â€œNow, didn’t I tell you, Little? Didn’t I say the great man would deign to darken our table? Yessir, Robert Kendall Blanchard esquire, that’s who this is. Cattleman, landowner, Squire of the Ozarks, and great good friend to your sweet-assed little sister.”
    Little just sat there looking at Blanchard and running his right hand up and down his left arm, which was small andmuscular and ornamented with a tattoo, an art nouveau floral design bound with a flowing ribbon on which the word peace appeared in gothic script.
    â€œAnd this, Robert,” Shea went on, indicating Little, “this sinister-looking fellow here is Little Smith, who’s just been sent down the river from Jeff City. He’s keeping my nose clean.”
    â€œAnd winnin’ money on him too,” Little said. “Did you see him over there? Sheeit, he could take down a gorilla if he wanted and them shitkickers oughta known it just by lookin’ at him. Guess they just wanted to give me some money.”
    â€œThat way they keep you from stealing it,” Shea said.
    â€œ Me steal? Why I wouldn’t ever do a thing like that.”
    â€œOh yeah, I forgot.” Shea turned to Blanchard. “Little’s been rehabilitated. No recidivism for him, no sir. From now on he’s going in strictly for white collar crime. Gonna get himself a white collar and stick up a gas station.”
    Little went along, laughing a small, crimped, cold-eyed laugh which suggested to Blanchard that the little man did not really know what to make of Shea, how to take him, but was hanging with him anyway, possibly because he was unable to resist any kind of attention, even when it openly ridiculed him.
    â€œWell, I want to improve myself,” he said.
    â€œDon’t we all.” Shea refilled his glass. “Though of course there are some people in this world who are so fine, so upstanding and hardworking, that improvement is simply out of the question.”
    â€œNever knew one of those,” Little said.
    â€œWell, you do now. Verily, you and me is drinking with one.”
    Little raised his glass to Blanchard. “I’m honored,” he said. “I am purely honored.”
    Blanchard did not respond. Even sitting there with the man, facing him across the table, he found that he could not bring himself to make small talk or for that matter even be civil. Perhaps he had tagged too many cattle himself over the years, forcing the brutal bladed tool through the skin and blood and gristle of their ears too many times to accept the same act inflicted on another man, even as some sick and wild reach of teenage hijinks. The only problem was he did not know that Little had done such a thing; he did not know that Little had killed. There was only the rumor, the rep . But for now, for Blanchard, it was enough. He turned to Shea.
    â€œI take it you scored with Pipkin.”
    Shea grinned. “The man’s got it made, Robert. You would not believe. At Darling he could hardly draw a straight line, right? Had all the flair and imagination of a slug—and still he makes it! They got this posh little shop, with about twenty employees, probably bill four or five million. And he’s a partner , how about that? So, yeah, I hit on him. For five big ones, wasn’t that sweet of him? He even took me to lunch.”
    â€œCongratulations. Now you can retire.”
    â€œHardly. No, about all it does is give me time to think, old buddy. Time to sit here and figure out a few things, make plans, why maybe even set up an enterprise, you know? Say, a money-making venture of such size and scope and audacity as to rescue the two of us from the clutches of poverty and the law and mendacious