Northern Lights by Tim O’Brien Read Free Book Online Page B

himself grinning. “Addie works in the library. She’s a kind of assistant librarian or something. She saves all the good books for me.” He wrapped his hands around the bottle and squeezed. It was a great blur.
    “You look just like an Indian,” Harvey said. “Sure you’re not Indian? You could make a very classy Indian.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    “She is part Indian, Harv.”
    Addie was very gay. She talked about dancing and swimming and people. Harvey became quiet. Franz came out again with his accordion and Harvey asked her to dance and Perry sat alone and watched them, and when they came back he felt tired.
    “You
must
learn to dance,” she said. “A great picker-upper. All my friends have to dance.” Addie moved beside him. “Here, I’ll show you how. You can’t be watching all the time, come on. I’ll show you a tricky polka.”
    He put his glasses on the table. It was a long, exhausting dance. He was out of shape. Over her shoulder, he saw Harvey watching.
    Afterwards he went outside to pee. It was a ritual that the men peed outside and the women peed in the women’s room. He breathed some fresh air.
    Inside again, Harvey and Addie were dancing. The Hamms beer sign was revolving. She was bright and fun and she danced on her heels. He got a beer and watched Harvey and Addie and Bishop Markham and the others.
    Jud Harmor came in, took a stool at the end of the bar, refused a beer, and pulled his straw hat down. People gave him lots of room.
    Harvey held Addie, whooping on the dance floor, and the old timbers were rocking.
    When the dance ended, the young waitress took Harvey back to the floor.
    Addie was wet and smiling.
    “He’s a real pirate,” she said. “He can dance.”
    “I was watching.”
    She touched his arm. “Peeping Paul.”
    “Yeah. Ol’ peeping Paul peeped a peck of pickled trouble.”
    “So clever.”
    “Would you like a beer?”
    “Here, let’s us sit down,” she said.
    They took a corner booth. Addie watched Harvey and the beehived waitress dance. “He
is
a fine dancer,” she said.
    “Sure.”
    “Tell me about your brother the pirate.”
    “There’s nothing to tell. He’s a nice guy. Everybody says that. He’s a rascal and a scamp.”
    “A pirate!”
    “I guess so.”
    Addie was barefoot. She put her sandals on the table.
    “There’s nothing like a pirate to brighten things up. Why isn’t Grace here? You should have brought Grace. Then we would have been a group, and groups are always more fun. What happened to his eye?”
    “He was wounded.”
    “Well, I know that. How did it happen?”
    Perry shrugged. He had a tight fever. “The telegrams just said he’d been wounded, I don’t know. He’s all right now. He hasn’t said anything about it.”
    “That’s silly. I’ll drag it out of him then. I’m good at that. I’ll drag out the whole gruèesome story and make him feel all better about it.”
    “You’re the one to do it, Addie.”
    “Want to dance with me?”
    “Not that. Not now, I’m pretty tipsy.”
    “Such a pirate.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Let’s dance. That’ll make it better.” She got up and held his arm.
    “Don’t be so happy.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Everything gets better, you know.”
    “Let’s dance then.”
    “I’ll dance barefoot.”
    “Spectacular, Addie.”
    “Hmmm.” She removed his glasses. “There, how’s that?” Very slowly, she pulled him up. “Very tribal, don’t you think? Firewater and campfires and wild rhubarb, all erotic.”
    “Stop that.”
    “Don’t be silly. You should be barefoot, too.”
    She was lean and athletic.
    “Isn’t this a nice song? Very erotic, isn’t it? Don’t step on my bare feet.”
    “Jesus.”
    “Isn’t this better now?”
    “It’s fine. I’m pretty hot.”
    “Dance closer. You don’t have to be so stiff. That’s better. See how? One, two, three. One, two, three. Isn’t it nice? Think of campfires and firewater.”
    The accordion music was slow and swaying, deep