The Best American Short Stories 2015 by T.C. Boyle Read Free Book Online Page B

get a stretcher and we’ll put her on the boat.”
    â€œYou’ll do what I tell you to do,” Joe snapped, solemn and intimidating. “For starters, you can shower and sober up before you come to my dinner table.” Georgie looked down at her plate, at once ashamed of Joe’s savage authority and in awe of it.
    â€œDo you want to go outside with me?” she whispered, lightly touching Joe’s shoulder. “Walk this off, think about it?”
    Joe ignored her.
    Phillip stood up from the table, foggy spectacles sliding off his nose in the wet heat. “Sober up? Please. You’re so regal, aren’t you? The villagers hate you. You punish them for infidelity and you’ve got a different woman here every month. You walk around with a machete strapped to your chest like you’re just waiting for an uprising. Maybe you’ll get what you want,” he said.
    â€œThey’re talking about it, you know,” he said. “Maybe we’ll just take the boat.”
    Joe stood up and leered at Phillip, practically spitting across the table. “They can hate me all they want. They need me. Why don’t you get back on that goddamn canoe you came in on? Yale degree, my ass. You’re a deserter. Don’t think I don’t know it.”
    â€œYou don’t know anything about me,” Phillip spat back, storming out of the dining room. Georgie could hear him shouting as he marched away in the still air. “Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked!”
    â€œI think we should take her to Nassau,” Georgie said, turning to Joe.
    â€œOh please,” Marlene said, rolling her eyes. “It isn’t the time to interfere.”
    â€œIt’s the right thing to do.”
    â€œWhat do you know?” Marlene snapped.
    â€œA little rum will make us all feel better,” Joe said, forcing a smile. “Hannah?”
    â€œIt doesn’t make
me
feel better at all,” Georgie said quietly. She had been determined to hold her own tonight, to look Marlene in the eye, to prove to her that she and Joe were a worthy couple. But she quickly sensed a loss of control, of confidence.
    â€œIt’s all about you, is it?” Marlene asked. “You’re lucky to be here, darling, you know that?”
    â€œWe need to get the hell out of this room,” Joe announced, knocking over her chair as she stood up.
    Joe gathered her guests in the living room, which was full of plush sofas and polished tables covered in crystal ashtrays. Mounted swordfish and a cheetah skin decorated the whitewashed walls.
    Joe put on a Les Brown record and opened a cigar box. She clamped down on a cigar and carried around a decanter of Scotch in the other, topping off her guests’ drinks.
    â€œNo restraint,” she said. “Drink as much as you want. It’s early.”
    Georgie leaned against a window, gulped down her drink, and stared out at the black sea. Joe pulled her away and into a corner.
    â€œAre you having a good enough time?” she asked. “Are you angry?”
    â€œWhat do you think?” Georgie said.
    â€œYou’re drunk,” Joe said.
    â€œWhat?” Georgie asked, voice falsely sweet. “I’m the only one who’s not allowed to have a big night?”
    â€œIt’s just unusual for you,” Joe said.
    â€œWe should take the boat to Nassau,” Georgie said.
    â€œYou’re slurring,” Joe said. “And besides, I’ve said no. If I go, I’ll lose authority.”
    â€œYou might lose it anyway.”
    Joe was silent and turned to refresh her drink, pausing to talk with the financiers. Georgie stayed at the window. She could hear the islanders’ voices outside. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they were loud and animated. Hannah, who was making the rounds with a box of cigars, lingered by the window, a worried expression on her face.
    Would the