The Bottoms by Joe R. Lansdale

Author:Joe R. Lansdale [Lansdale, Joe R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-74266-7
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2010-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

I don’t know how late Daddy and Mr. Groon talked, but it was late. I finally tuckered out and drifted to the sleeping porch with Mama. We sat together on the swing there, and when I woke she was gone and I was lying on the swing with a pillow under my head and a blanket over me. The sun was coming up and our rooster crowing. I went into the kitchen. Daddy and Groon were still in there, sitting in front of greasy plates, well sopped of eggs and fatback grease. Mama was pouring coffee.

“You like some eggs and biscuits, Harry?” she asked.

I told her I would, and sat down at the table. Tom came wandering in, rubbing her eyes. Sometimes she could sleep through a marching band. She looked at Mr. Groon, who still sat at the table wearing his robes, his hood pushed back. In the morning sunlight, his hair looked even thinner and whiter and the bald spot was a soft, smooth cream color. I could see liver spots on the back of his hands.

“You got on a ghost suit, Mr. Groon?” Tom asked.

He smiled at her. “I guess I do, missy.” He stood up, stretched out his hand to Daddy. “You won’t have no more trouble from me.”

“Fair enough,” Daddy said.

“Good cake, and a good breakfast, Mrs. Cane. Thank you.”

Mama nodded.

Groon got up and went outside. Daddy went with him. The air still smelled faintly of gasoline and burnt wood. Toby was lying on the porch. He shifted slightly and put an eyeball on Mr. Groon. Mr. Groon leaned forward slowly and extended his hand to Toby. Daddy said, “It’s all right, Toby.”

Toby sniffed at the hand, then lay back down, satisfied.

“Maybe we ought to walk your horse down to the barn, get some grain and water,” Daddy said.

“That’d be good,” Mr. Groon said.

“I’d like you to look around out there. See there’s no colored hiding there.”

Groon nodded.

“Son,” Daddy said, “clean that up, will you?”

He was talking about a big pile of horse manure Mr. Groon’s horse had left. “Yes sir,” I said, and went to get the shovel.

As I went around the house to where the shovel was leaning against the outside wall, I heard Daddy say: “Ben, wasn’t any shells in that gun, but I want you to know, I had some in my pocket.”

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