Knucklehead & Other Stories
“Is he tow-headed? Carrot-topped? Freckled? Olive-skinned? Cow-eyed? Wall-eyed? One-eyed? Is the boy white? A possibility: the boy lies on his back in a fallow field beyond the edge of town. Perhaps he chews kernels of raw wheat into prairie gum. Scudding clouds hypothesize representational shapes. On a distant ridge, a question-mark of smoke smudges the sky with the lingering threat of a grass fire. The sun may burn, yellow-eyed, edging towards one horizon or another. Imagine the boy’s pockets full of potash.
A hired man takes a break from the toil of twisting an auger to dig a hole for a gate post. He pulls his hat from his head, wipes his brow with a forearm. He walks and fetches the canteen full of water, covered in wet burlap and hung on the outside rearview mirror of his truck. After drinking three long draughts, he soaks his hat. He settles the canteen into the crook of his neck, and rests his cheek against it.
At night, under the patchwork frenzy quilted by grandmother’s arthri...tic fingers, the boy curls around a pillow.MoreLess
A hired man takes a break from the toil of twisting an auger to dig a hole for a gate post. He pulls his hat from his head, wipes his brow with a forearm. He walks and fetches the canteen full of water, covered in wet burlap and hung on the outside rearview mirror of his truck. After drinking three long draughts, he soaks his hat. He settles the canteen into the crook of his neck, and rests his cheek against it.
At night, under the patchwork frenzy quilted by grandmother’s arthri...tic fingers, the boy curls around a pillow.MoreLess
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