Lost Nation: A Novel by Lent Jeffrey

Author:Lent, Jeffrey [Lent, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Published: 2007-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

The boys sat on the bench, working slowly at the tin cups. The bench was a great comfort after three weeks of squatting or seated on rocks. Their wet clothes chafed and then warmed and steamed and fit again easy to their bodies. After half his drink Cooper sat back a little and slid one boot up to rest over the other knee. This allowed him to view more easily the room while providing the mild disguise of akimbo arms and legs, his chin lowered toward his chest. He’d unbound his brown hair and now it had dried and hung about his face, lank twists around his new beard. His beard was darker, in this dim light near black. He tasted the cup, set it on his knee and locked his fingers around the kneecap. He looked sideways at Fletcher who was bent forward a little at the waist. As if to leap or spring.

Cooper said, “How you doing.”

“All right.”

“You sure?”

“I’m all right. You?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I don’t quite know myself.”

“You look easy enough.”

“He’s been studying us.”

“Well. We’re strangers. You can’t make too much of it.”

“There idn’t nothing to make of it. It just feels queer is all.”

“I guess it would.”

“Don’t it for you?”

“Some. Mostly my own jitters I guess. It ain’t the same for me as you.”

“I guess so.”

“Listen,” Fletcher said. “There’s one thing he idn’t ever going to do with me. He idn’t ever going to look me in the face and see or guess who I am. I know that. We don’t have to pretend otherwise. It’s all right.”

Cooper ignored this. “You know what I think?”

“What’s that?”

“I think I’m going up there and get another one of these drams.”

“I’ll go.”

“No. I want to. You ready for another?”

“You going to talk to him?”

Cooper stood. Reached for Fletcher’s cup. “My name’s Russell Barrett. I ain’t nobody to him.”

“You think up close he idn’t going to recognize you?”

Cooper said, “It idn’t my worry I should happen to remind him of anybody else. I’d like nothing more than to stir his dreams. Get something working under his skin.”

“All right.”

“Let go your cup. You got me standing here like I can’t make up my mind.”

“Shoot,” Fletcher said. “Sorry.” And let go.

Cooper grinned at him, the grin a little crooked. “Anybody asks, I’ll tell em my little brother idn’t sure of himself, it comes to hard drink.”

“Go on. Leave me be. Who’d ask anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Cooper said. “Maybe that girl keeps looking at you.”

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