Blackstrap Hawco by Kenneth J. Harvey Read Free Book Online Page B

Done. He presses his lips together. Glances back at the table. Notices the rolling papers and pouch of tobacco. Reaches for them. Considers his father’s face. The humourgiving way there. More now that he is old. Content to laugh away matters. Not to bother with them. Not to fight. Dead soon enough, he often says. Or just to laugh, unknowing. His mind adrift.
    â€˜Isaac Tuttle.’ Jacob widens his eyes.
    â€˜You mean our land,’ Karen quickly says. She watches the old man. Then her husband. ‘Is that what you’re talking about?’
    â€˜Yays.’ Jacob sputters. He tries but cannot contain the laughter. His chest rises and falls beneath navy, zip-up coveralls. ‘Imagine dat!’ He shifts in his chair. Sees that no one else is laughing. So his mood levels off. Watches Blackstrap’s face with keen fatherly interest. Valuing his son’s reaction because he has made him.
    â€˜Blacky?’ asks Karen.
    Blackstrap Hawco uses his fingers. Works the moist tobacco into a straight line in the paper. Increases the pressure. Tightly rolls the cigarette with stained fingertips. Dabs at the thin line of gum with his tongue. Then gives Karen a steady wink. He sticks the cigarette between his lips. Nods once, assuredly. ‘Taken care of,’ he says through the corner of his mouth. Pokes two fingers into the top pocket of his blue and black flannel jacket. Digs around for a pack of matches. Strikes a match head against the flint. Lifts the flame to the tip of his cigarette. Puffs twice. Fire blazing. He puffs it out. Through the cloud of smoke, he watches his wife.
    Karen knows, by his faint crooked smile, he has a plan. No regard for the law. No concern for the consequences of his actions. The men do as they please out here. No regard for anything. A way of life. To evade the law. Her nerves crackle. Seem too near the underside of her skin. The surface. She looks toward the clock on the stove. Only fifteen minutes more and she can have a Valium.
    Blackstrap winks at Jacob. Puffs on his cigarette. A generous intake of smoke. A swig of beer.
    He’s crazy, Karen thinks. Just like his father. She hears both of them laugh. Jacob’s easy laugh. Blackstrap’s deep guttural soundings. Rumblings. How did I let myself be brought out here? Isolation. I thought it would be different. Interesting. Country living. It’s cold. No one. Stagnation. Small communities around small communities. The names all foolish. Sounding wrong. And too bright. Too colourful for the simple people who live there in old or new houses. Others clusteredtogether on black rock. The ocean down in nearby Bareneed. Cliffs and barrens and sparse scattered trees.
    Blackstrap stands. Treads close by Karen’s side. Not a hint of unease in them. Prepared for anything.
    Karen leans back slightly. A delayed reaction. Meant to imply she was taken by surprise.
    Blackstrap watches his wife’s eyes. Not one moment longer than needed. ‘What’re ya thinking, woman?’
    â€˜What’re you going to do?’ she whispers.
    Blackstrap says nothing.
    He is happy, she tells herself. No, confident. Confident with his mean thoughts. But he is not a mean man. Not at all. He just acts that way. Why? She smells the sweet smoky scent. Burnt wood on him. The lingering stink of diesel from his backhoe.
    Blackstrap glances over her features. Trying to fix the particulars to memory. Then, just like that, he turns away.
    Karen watches him step off through the kitchen archway. She hears the front door opening. ‘Careful,’ she calls. But the sound is high and frightened. It barely wiggles free. She glances over. Blackstrap’s father staring at her pink T-shirt. Then down further. His eyes linger along her thighs. He is forgetful lately. His mind just not the same. She thinks of turning away. But there is something pitiful about his attention. As if he is stuck somewhere. In memory. And she wrongly feels