Madball by Fredric Brown

Author:Fredric Brown [Brown, Fredric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DOLLY HEARD FOOTSTEPS and the scrape of lifting canvas, then Leon's voice. "Doll?"

For a second she held her intention to pretend that she was already asleep, then she realized that she wanted to know, had to know right this moment, whether he was back for the night or whether this was just an inspection trip. And also how late it was; the wait had seemed like many hours to her but that might have been because of her impatience. So she rolled over and said sleepily, "Yeah, Leon. Wha' time is it?"

"'Bout a quarter after one." That was good; it wasn't as late as she'd feared. She could see him now, sitting on his trunk and already twisting the cap off the whisky bottle. She saw him tilt it and heard the gurgle as he took a long drink. He put the bottle down. Then he was unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers. That meant he was staying. But it was cool; he'd hardly be taking off his shirt unless he intended to get right into bed and that might be the only drink he'd take. Would it be enough? Better get him talking. If she drank with him, he'd get started talking and keep on drinking while he talked.

She sat up. "Can I have a drink, Leon?" As he reached for the bottle to hand it to her she took the tumbler that was on her trunk and had it ready. "I'll pour a little in this. I'd rather just sip at it." She poured herself a short one in the tumbler, kept it in her hand as she gave him back the bottle. She'd just pretend to sip at it and when he wasn't looking, a little later, she'd pour it out on the ground. Or if she didn't get a chance to, she could probably drink it safely. Such a tiny drink, just one finger, wouldn't make her go to sleep if she fought against it. She asked, "How'd the poker go?"

Her hand around the tumbler concealed how little she'd poured. She tilted the glass back against closed lips and then lowered it, no longer bothering to conceal the quantity. He'd think she'd poured twice that much and had drunk half of it the first swallow.

Leon said, "Lousy." His voice was a growl but he wasn't really annoyed. He slid off the trunk without finishing taking off his shirt and sat on the ground instead, leaning back against the trunk. Making himself comfortable; it was all right now. He took another pull at the bottle.

He put the bottle down and opened his shirt to scratch his chest. Looking at him, Dolly wondered what had ever made her love him. He looked greasy. He wasn't, really; his skin was smooth to the touch, like a woman's, and he was proud of it, but maybe because it was so deep an olive color, it always looked as though it was oily even though it wasn't. And his hair so black and straight, always looked as though he'd plastered it down with vaseline.

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