As Good As Gone (9781616206000) by Watson Larry

Author:Watson, Larry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Workman Pub Co
Published: 2016-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

Once they cross the narrow bridge spanning the Elk River, they are in a section of town that Beverly seldom has reason to visit. The houses here are small and often dilapidated. Lawns are sparse and yellow-­brown or nonexistent, yet grass sprouts freely in cracks in the concrete or asphalt. Driveways aren’t paved and sidewalks gap and tilt. Beverly never uses the term herself, but she knows that this area is frequently called Dogtown. And though she was born and raised in Gladstone, she had never known how the section got its name. So she finally asked Burt. As usual, he waited a long time before answering, a maddening tactic that was calculated to make Beverly withdraw her comment or question. When she demanded to know, he answered her question with one of his own: “Who lives there?” She had to concede that the area had a large Indian population. Burt hesitated even longer, but finally said, “And what do Indians eat?” “Oh my God,” she said. “That’s absolutely ridiculous! That’s hateful!” Her response, however, did nothing to prevent him from continuing to use the term.

As they turn onto a narrow unpaved street that has neither curb nor gutter, Calvin says, “Right around here I drove my first motor car. It belonged to George Ellingsen, one of my father’s business partners. Of course there weren’t houses or streets around here then. Just an old wagon road and a couple of hardpan fields and he didn’t give me a damn bit of instruction. Put me behind the wheel and told me to go to it.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve? Thirteen maybe? Too young to be doing what I was doing. Of course there was nothing around here for me to run into or run over. Later I found out the expedition was my father’s idea. He had a notion that cars were going to be the way of things and he thought if I was going to take over the business someday it would be good for me to know what to do behind the wheel. He was too old to learn, he said, but I wasn’t going to get left behind.”

“Your father must have been a wise man.”

“Only where it came to turning a dollar.”

“A few years ago,” Beverly says, “some developers were interested in this area for a supermarket. They wanted to buy up all the land and houses around here and tear them down. Put in a parking lot and a big new Red Owl. Or SuperValu, I forget which. Your son opposed the plan.”

“Not a good idea to stand in the way of progress.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that.”

“I can’t either.” He leans forward and looks for a house number. “Are we getting close?”

“Take a left up ahead.”

They turn onto a paved street. Beverly peers out, trying to see a house number. “Okay,” she says. “The third house on the right. That must be it.”

Calvin Sidey pulls to the curb in front of a tiny house with peeling white paint and torn screens.

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