Wednesday, December 25, 2013
kept right on yodeling. The mother was silent. Raymond and the kids
were giggling in the bedroom. A California home! I hid in the grapevines
digging it all. I felt like a million dollars; I was adventuring in the
crazy American night. Bea came out slamming the door behind her. I
accosted her on the dark road. “What’ the matter?” “Oh we fight all the
time. He wants me to go to work tomorrow. He says he don’t want me
fooling around. Jackie and I want to go to New York with you.” “But
how?” “I don’t know honey. I’ll miss you. I love you.” “But I have to
leave.” “Yes, yes. We screw one more time then you leave.” We went back
to the barn; I made love to her under the tarantula. What was the
tarantula doing? We slept awhile on the crates. She went back at
midnight; her father was drunk; I could hear him roaring; then there was
silence as he fell asleep. The stars folded over the sleeping
countryside. In the morning Farmer Heffelfinger stuck his head through
the horse gate and said “How you doing young fella?” “Fine. I hope it’s
all right my staying here.” “Sure thing. You going with that little
Mexican floozie?” “She’s a very nice girl.” “Very pretty too. I think
the bull jumped the fence. She’s got blue eyes.” We talked about his
farm. Bea brought my breakfast. I had my canvas bag all packed and ready
to go to New York, as soon as I picked up my money in Selma. I knew it
was waiting for me by now. I told Bea I was leaving. She had been
thinking about it all night and was resigned to it. Emotionlessly she
kissed me in the vineyards and walked off down the row. We turned at a
dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked at each other for the last
time. “See you in New York, Bea” I said. She was supposed to drive to New
York in a month with her brother. But we both knew she wouldn’t make it
somehow. At a hundred feet I turned to look at her. She just walked on
back to the shack, carrying my breakfast plate in one hand. I bowed my
head and watched her. Well lackadaddy, I was on the road again. I walked
down the highway to Selma eating black walnuts from the walnut tree; I
went on the SP tracks and balanced along the rail; I passed a water tower
and a factory. This was the end of something. I went to the telegraph
office of the railroad for my money order from New York. It was closed. I
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