The Crazy Horse Electric Game by Chris Crutcher

Author:Chris Crutcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

Willie wakes to the sun streaming through the window, directly into his eyes, on the pulled-out couch. His swollen eye is matted shut and every muscle feels as if he’s been clubbed like a throw rug on a clothesline. The house is silent, and he pushes himself up to look out the window; the Chrysler is gone. He lies back, collecting his thoughts, trying to remember where the bathroom is. He’d give his good arm for a shower.

Drying off, he hears the rattling of paper sacks, the opening and closing of cupboards, and knows Lacey is back. He stays in the bathroom longer than necessary because he hasn’t yet decided what to do and he’s not ready to face Lacey pushing him to make a decision. He tries again to figure Lacey, who’s telling him he has to go but the borders are a little fuzzy, like if maybe Willie plays it right Lacey might see clear to help him out with something more than just a bus ticket. Lacey’s a tough guy. If he really just wanted Willie gone, he’d have no trouble making that happen. Willie’s in no position to do anything but take what is given. He pulls on his jeans and T-shirt and walks slowly out into the living room.

“Decided what you gonna do?” Lacey calls from the kitchen.

“Not…for sure,” Willie calls back. He’s staring out the front window at Lacey’s car, noticing for the first time the fancy pin-striping down the sides and the custom hood ornament. In the light of day it looks like every pimp’s car on every show Willie has ever seen. “Not…going back…to Montana…though.”

“Tha’s smart,” Lacey says sarcastically, standing in the kitchen door. “Maybe you wanna jus’ find you a place down there close to the bus station. Keep you apprised what the world like.”

Willie says he thinks he’ll steer clear of the bus station for a while; maybe go back down there the day Hell freezes over.

“Won’t be any safer then,” Lacey says. “This jus’ ain’t a place for no Montana cowboy kid to run to. Don’t you see that yet?”

“I can…see…that…with…one eye…swollen shut,” Willie says, “but…I’m here.” He glances up; Lacey looks real different than he did last night. He’s decked out in a silk shirt open to the chest and skin-tight pants, with jewelry on almost every finger and a big gold chain around his neck. Willie looks back to the car.

“Got money for you ticket outta here right in my pocket,” Lacey says. “Best offer you gonna get in this town.”

“Know…about…any jobs?” Willie asks. “…Anything. Cleaning…buses. Fast…food.”

“Bus jobs all union shit,” Lacey says. “An’ you got to have a work permit even at McDonald’s.”

“How about…I…work…for you?”

“Doin’ what?”

Willie smiles and says he could work three days a week just keeping Lacey’s car clean. He could fix up his house and yard; generally keep things up. It would only cost Lacey room and board, and as soon as something came up, Willie would move.

Lacey starts to say no, but stops.

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