Stars and bars by William Boyd

Author:William Boyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1984-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The next morning Henderson got out of bed and fell over. He sat on the floor for a few seconds and watched his hands shake. A largish prism seemed to be wedged between his spine and his rib cage. The internal triangle. His viscera felt stuffed to capacity with gravel. His eyes throbbed painfully, as if they had been removed from their sockets, bounced up and down on the floor and reinserted. He crawled back between the sheets.

Bryant looked in later to inform him she was going to Atlanta with Duane to buy some records. Henderson waved her on her way. At lunchtime Alma-May brought him a pickled cucumber and chopped onion sandwich. He crawled out on to the balcony and threw it in the garden.

In mid-afternoon he received a visit from Cora.

“How are you feeling?” she said. She stood in the centre of his room, cigarette burning in one hand. She seemed quite friendly now.

“Not so good,” he replied. “Very weak. Chronic indigestion. Intermittent nausea. It must be that sipping whisky.”

“You got a phone call, Shanda says. A Miss Irene Dubrovnik? You’ve to phone back.”

“Oh! Oh right. Good. Thanks very much.”

She left and Henderson shakily got dressed. His back was aching, as if his spine couldn’t take the strain of keeping his body erect. He went to the lavatory and sat there for five minutes, teeth gritted and eyes watering with the pressure, but nothing shifted.

He tottered carefully down the stairs and shuffled over to Shanda’s trailer. Out in the park an old black man drove about on a miniature tractor cutting the grass.

Henderson knocked at the door and Shanda let him in.

“Can I use the phone?”

“The phone? Sure.”

He sat down warily on the glass and wrought iron seat. He wondered what Shanda did with herself all day. She settled down on a sofa and leafed through a magazine. He punched out Irene’s number. He felt excited but a little inhibited by Shanda’s presence and subdued somewhat by his weakened state.

“Hello, Irene. It’s Henderson.”

“Hi. I got your letter.”

“Look, I’m really sorry about all the—”

“Forget it. How are you?”

“Actually, I’ve got the most appalling indigestion. I drank something called Henry’s Goat and ate something called hoppin’ John.”

“Redneck food, Henderson. You’ve got to be reared on that stuff. Have you had grits yet?”

“It feels like it.” Perhaps that caused the stuffed-gravel sensation. He shifted slightly in his seat, turning his back towards Shanda who was listening with candid curiosity. He felt huge relief and gratitude at this restoration of feeling between him and Irene.

“Listen,” he said, “can you get down here?”

“I don’t know. When?”

“This weekend. We can stay in a hotel. Then we’ll take a few days and drive around. Charleston, Savannah, somewhere like that.”

There was a pause.

“OK, maybe I can get down on Friday night.”

“I’ll meet you at the airport. Atlanta.”

“No. I don’t know which plane I’ll get. I’ll come straight to the hotel.”

“Great. Hang on a sec.” He turned to Shanda. “Shanda, what’s the very best hotel in Atlanta?”

“Excuse me?”

“Hotel.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.