The Farmer's Daughter by Jim Harrison

Author:Jim Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Published: 2010-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

PART III

“I was hoping to take a look at this Corn Palace.” B.D. had been dozing but it seemed like every time he opened his eyes there was a billboard for the Corn Palace, a building constructed out of ears of corn. Since he had worked often as a carpenter he couldn’t imagine corn as a building material. It was probably like cheap brick facing. “Why would they put up a building made of corn?”

“So that geeks like you will stop in Mitchell, South Dakota, and spend money. The weather is shit anyway and I’m tired and hungry.”

It was sleeting and the thermometer in her Honda Accord had dropped to freezing from forty in the last hour. She steered downtown encircling the Corn Palace which indeed was made of full corncobs though they were the only tourists and downtown was pretty much closed. Gretchen chose a higher-end motel back out by the interstate because there was a restaurant attached and she didn’t want to drive any farther.

“We’ve been talking all afternoon but I can’t stop thinking about intrauterine pollution.”

“What’s that?”

“Chemicals from the environment get into the womb and affect the baby’s teeth. I live too close to that stinking paper mill.”

While she checked them into the motel B.D. reflected on her endless monologue on possibly having a baby. Since he was to be the sperm donor he first had to have a physical checkup to make sure he wasn’t diseased.

“I’m thirty-three. I have to come to a decision,” she had said.

“That’s the age Jesus was when he died,” B.D. had said lamely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m confused about being a sperm donor.”

“It’s easy. I don’t want to do it in a doctor’s office so it will happen at my house. After your checkup you’ll whack off into a syringe bulb and I’ll inject it you know where.”

“I have my dignity,” he had said, copping the line from one of Delmore’s Perry Mason reruns.

“You’ll get over it.”

“Why can’t I just put it in for a few minutes?”

“The idea is repellent to me.”

While she was in the motel office it occurred to him that he associated repellent with the insect repellent he smeared on himself, especially in June when blackflies and mosquitoes were active in the trillions when he was fishing.

“You could drink a bunch and take one of your tranquilizers,” he suggested.

“I’m a victim of anhedonia which means my neutrality is probably an organic response to trauma.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I’ll explain it over dinner.”

Their two rooms were adjoining but when B.D. opened his side he noted that hers was still locked.

“Your door is locked.”

“Yes, it is.”

She took a quick shower and he got a hard-on just listening to the water run. He would have perished from lust if he hadn’t found a two-ounce shooter of Canadian whiskey at the bottom of his duffel.

At dinner her soapy smell made his tummy quiver. So did his Seafood Medley for $9.95 for different reasons. It was all deep-fried and tasted like it had spent a lot of time on the bottom of a boat in the hot sun.

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.