Shoot the Moon by Billie Letts Read Free Book Online Page B

moving again, traipsing in a small, tight circle.
    “Gaylene loved life. Couldn’t stand to see anything die. Once when she was driving me home, she ran over a squirrel and . . . God, I miss her.”
    Suddenly spent, he dropped onto a bench, his head resting against the wall behind him, hands limp on his lap.
    “Tell me about her son,” Mark said.
    “Nicky Jack.” Kyle cracked a smile. “Man, she loved that little guy. You should have seen her with him. He was the center of the world for her.”
    “Kyle . . .” Mark hesitated, creating an uneasy silence. Though he had already formed the question, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer. “Were you his father?”
    “Oh, no, man. Ours was a spiritual love. Oh, I won’t deny that I wanted her, wanted her more than anything. But that never happened.” Kyle’s eyes filled with tears. “I used to pretend he was mine, made believe I was the one. But I wasn’t.”
    “Do you know who was?”
    “Didn’t ask her, didn’t care who she’d been with. That didn’t matter to me.” Weeping again, he buried his face in his hands.
    “Kyle!”
    Arthur McFadden, a cigar clamped between his teeth, was closing in on seventy. He was painfully thin and slightly stooped, but he had a powerful voice, the voice of a man accustomed to having his way. He dismissed Mark with little more than a glance, then zeroed in on Kyle, seemingly oblivious to his former stepson’s distress.
    “I want you to take care of a problem in the control room.”
    Choking back sobs, Kyle said, “I . . . I can’t.”
    “Yes, you can. The automation unit is screwing up again. Fix it.” Arthur shot him a look of disgust, then wheeled and walked away.
    Mark waited until Kyle had regained some control before he asked, “Do you have any idea who killed Gaylene Harjo?”
    “I wish I did. I swear I’d shoot the bastard did that to her and Nicky Jack.”
    “You think whoever killed her, killed the boy, too?”
    “I won’t let myself believe he’s dead. ’Cause if he’s alive, she’s alive, too. In him.” Kyle wiped a hand across his face. “He’s out there somewhere.”
     
    March 7, 1967
    Dear Diary,
    School today was so-so. We had a spelling test in English class. I think I failed because I didn’t study. Row always makes the best grades, but I think spelling is borring.
    I sent off for the bust cream today. Row said I could send it to her house and even if Mrs. Whitekiller sees it, she won’t say anything. I should be so lucky!
    Mom had to work late at the bank so we didn’t get home until almost seven. Daddy wasn’t too happy that we had tuna fish sandwiches for dinner, but Mom said she didn’t have time to cook the roast she thawed out. Sometimes I think he doesn’t realize how hard she has to work at her job, keep house, can stuff from the garden and help him with the chickens and goats. I think women work alot harder than men. If I get to heaven I want to be a man.
    Me and Daddy watched television tonight. We saw
Gunsmoke
and
The Andy Griffith Show
because those are his favorites, but on the news we saw a big crowd of black people in Washington protesting the war in Vietnam. I told Daddy that I would like to go to Washington and march with them, but he said that was colored people’s business not ours.
    Guess he has not noticed that we’re colored too.
    Spider Woman

Chapter Eight
    H e’s convinced that Joe Dawson buried the body somewhere on his land,” Mark said.
    Ivy laughed, momentarily drawing the attention of the domino boys. Lowering her voice, she said, “I’d like to have seen the look on his face when you told him who you are.”
    “I didn’t. I said I was an attorney handling an estate Nick Harjo would inherit. If I could find him.”
    “And he bought that?” Teeve asked.
    “He seemed to.”
    “Well, don’t underestimate O Boy Daniels. He might come across like a yokel, but he’s nobody’s fool. You ever watch that old TV show, detective acted like