Queen Sugar by Natalie Baszile

Author:Natalie Baszile
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-02-05T16:00:00+00:00

15

Every day since the auction, Charley made a point to arrive at the shop before Denton, and every day she followed his instructions and recommendations to the letter. When he observed that they were low on Pennzoil and 2, 4-D, she was on the phone with the hardware store; when he suggested they tear out the third-year stubble along the highway, she had the three-row chopper hitched and the tractor refueled before he finished reading the day’s farm bulletin. And when he announced, during lunch, they’d soon need lubricant for the drill press, Charley was off to Cyd’s Tractor and Repair in Franklin before he finished his sandwich.

Now, with two gallons of lubricant in a box on the floor, Charley rounded the corner expecting to see Denton’s truck but instead saw an old tractor, not too different from the one she owned, idling in front of the shop. Smoke belched from the exhaust pipe. Music leaked from the cab. As she pulled up, the tractor’s engine sputtered and died, the door swung wide, and a man—muddy overalls hanging from his skeletal frame, clumps of strawberry blond hair sticking out of his baseball cap—climbed down the ladder like a spider at the end of its thread.

Charley couldn’t help but think of Landry’s visit as she stepped from her car. “Can I help you?”

“Where’s Denton?” The man pushed his cap back and gave his forehead a furious scratch, then took one last drag on the cigarette that hung from his lips before grinding the butt into the dirt. “What time is it?”

“Two thirty,” Charley said.

“Well, I sure as hell hope Denton shows up soon ’cause I got to pick up my boys at four,” he said. “Damn day care dings you two dollars every fifteen minutes you’re late. Tell you, I can’t wait till September and I can put those two rascals in kindergarten. Don’t care if they’re five or not. Public school, you hear me? Only thing still free in this freaking country.” He lit another cigarette, then squinted out over the cane through eyes the color of frozen pond water. “What time is it now?”

“Two thirty-two,” Charley said.

“Come on, Denton, where are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Charley said. “Exactly who are you?”

The man looked startled. “Alison Delcambre. Denton didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll give him till three but then I got to go.”

“Is there something I can help you with?” Charley said. Just then, she heard the low grumble of Denton’s engine and there he was, coming down the road. He parked and ambled over, the same oily cloth from the auction dangling from his back pocket.

“Good to see you, Alison.”

“You’re late, Denton.”

“Sorry. My wife needed a new filter for her car.” He took a small square of fabric, from his front pocket this time, and cleaned his glasses, wiping each lens purposefully.

“Well, I’m delighted to hear you’re such a devoted husband, but I got to be over at the freaking Magic Rainbow by four.”

“How are those boys?”

“They’re fine if you like raising wolf pups.

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