Something to Be Desired by Thomas Mcguane Read Free Book Online Page A

W.T.
    “ ‘No, the USIA.”
    “Hunh. Thought she said the FBI. Thought you was a Federale.”
    “King, king, king!” Lucien splattered the checkers good. “I win, you lose … talk that way about my girl, you—”
    “When’s the last time you had a date with Emily?”
    “What’s it to you?”
    “Go on, tell me.”
    “Years and years ago.”
    “Son, she’s changed since that time.” W.T. laughed deep in his throat.
    “How?”
    “She’s a better shot,” said W.T. with a wide cowboy smile. Then he grew alcohol-pensive. “This time I’m thinking about, I was trying to prove up on a lease I had over at Kid Royal. And we was getting ready to load out at Deadrock. I had the heeler up front with me, the radio on, when I threw a recap right on the scale. I was with Boyd, and he cusses and dumps a set of dead batteries from his hot shot, throws it in the jockeybox and said he’s got a come-along to get our outfit to dry ground with. This was supposed to be the last of a big run of yearlings. And it turns out we got a five-hole spare for a six-hole rim. I knew right then and there my luck was shot. I knew them yearlings would bring next to nothing. God, it was bad. Also at this time I had a girl name of Shawna who wore a mood ring which was always nearly black. She cooked at the brandings and made eyes at the ropers. She was dumb. She read love comics and used her Chapstick as if it was a cigarette, and she was about as dumb as a stick. She lived at Parade Rest Trailer Park, which is no more than a breeding pen, and she was stick-ass dumb. But right about
then
, I met ole Emily. She come into thesale yard and bought that set of cattle. She gave me my break, and I ain’t looked back since. She liked me.”
    “I can’t tell you what this story does to me.”
    “I’d follow her to the gates of hell.”
    “That’s her most famous effect, all right.”
    Lucien refilled the drinks while W.T. talked. “You gotta make them women happy. Plow ’em, take ’em on a trip, put a little smile on their lips. They like to spend, spend, spend. So what I say is, let ’em.” The thermostat on the baseboard heater turned on and forced W. T. Austinberry to get up and go a good part of the way across the room.
    He lay out on the floor, barely moving. Then it got quiet. “Hundred-proof whiskey is a cowboy’s color TV,” said W. T. Austinberry from his own world on the bunkhouse floor, and passed out. Lucien looked at him: he could no longer be reached.
    Lucien had an awkward time getting back to his room. He thanked W. T. Austinberry for the lovely evening, then did the hurricane walk across the yard from tree to tree until he achieved the main house. He did his best going up the stairs, whereupon Sadie began barking at him in sharp yelps. He smothered her against the floor long enough for her to recognize him, then dragged her into bed.
    “Lucien, what’s going on there?”
    Lucien froze, clutching his dog. He heard Emily start up the stairs. Then she appeared, eclipsing the dangling bulb that threw a circle of electrical light around her. She glittered in vengeful beauty.
    “What’ve you been doing?”
    “I’m afraid we got damn well good and drunk,” said Lucien.
    “You and W.T.…”
    “Yes.”
    “What’d he say?”
    “About what?”
    “About anything.”
    “God, I don’t know,” said Lucien. “We were playing checkers.”
    “Let’s take a walk.”
    “Let’s take a walk!”
    “Yeah,” she said. “By the moonlight.”
    “All right,” Lucien said and got out of bed fully dressed. Sadie shot repeatedly in the direction of the door, indicating her readiness for some hunting.
    “Why don’t you leave the dog …”
    Lucien thought about it, then hitched Sadie to the leg of one of the ruined chairs and got a coat. Emily had a pair of jeans pulled on under a nightshirt. She tied the tails of the nightshirt and, downstairs, pulled a loose sweater over that. They headed into the night like