A Good Day to Die by Jim Harrison

Author:Jim Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove Atlantic

CHAPTER

10

THERE were magpies on the roof and bluejays somewhere in the trees nearby. I had heard some animal scratching underneath the floor and each time I awoke to the scratching I would have to focus on the yard light until I remembered where I was. For the first time we slept separately. The small cabins only had one bed but they were very cheap; they were musty and smelled strongly of pine, and pitch still oozed fragrantly from the cracks in the boards. It had been a very cool night and I got up at dawn to adjust the electric wall heater.

Out the window in the still first light I could see dew on the car. The cabins and the store were dark but the owner's dog, a shepherd-collie cross, shuffled around the yard and drank from the creek which was the border of the yard before the forest began. He looked into the forest and barked once. I woke often and lorded in my privacy imagining that I was far up in some mountain fastness and had never had anything to do with blowing a Navajo shed to dust and splinters with two cases of dynamite. But I couldn't dismiss the shed—the noise had been too palpable, a steady roar that imitated itself in successive waves and layers. A bit of the overkill but we got rid of the stuff.

We had driven up to Page, quickly eaten, and checked into the cabins. Tim seemed very near collapse. I talked him into three Seconals and he was asleep by ten. I sat with Sylvia on their porch steps for a little while then kissed her good night. She was shivering and sounded drained as we talked but still quite excited. I had lost all fear of being caught and when we said good night I walked over to the store and bought a pint of whiskey. The owner was a pleasant asthmatic retiree from Mansfield, Ohio. We chatted in the dark about bass fishing and shared a few pulls from the bottle. He had worked in a steel mill until his lungs went bad and wished that he had never seen Mansfield, Ohio, but had been born right here near Page. He allowed that the Glen Canyon dam had been good for his business but he had liked it better before. I agreed as lakes and reservoirs usually bore the shit out of me. I asked him about a proposed Grand Canyon dam but he said that it was only a realtor's dream that got a lot of publicity. Of course the Army Corps of Engineers would be glad to build a dam even if there were no water within a hundred miles. He laughed a lot and appeared sorry when I said I had to get some sleep. I didn't finish a whole drink before I dropped off despite the lumpy mattress and damp sheets. I telephathically invited Sylvia over but she failed to materialize.

By mid-morning, nearly twelve hours later, I still hadn't got out of bed.

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