Solomon's Vineyard
“It was a few minutes I before sunrise and the sky was blue. I could sec the sky through the cracked window. There weren't any clouds. I had a funny feeling in my throat. I'd been close to death a lot of times before, but I'd never had so much time to think about it. I wished I'd made the break, shooting or no shooting. I would, anyway. The car came up in front of the shack. I heard the motor stop. I heard a woman's husky voice say: “Is he inside?”
“Yeah,” Pug said.
She came into the shack and s...tared at me, standing with a hand on her hip. The lantern and the cracked window made it light inside. Her hair was the colour of a bamboo fishpole, and she had on rouge and mascara, but underneath the paint her skin was good. She had on black slacks and a scarlet shirt and open sandals. She was beautiful. Pug scowled at me over her shoulder. Brother, I thought, this is the third-act curtain.
“So it's you,” she said.
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.
She turned to Pug. “What's the idea of beating him up?”MoreLess
“Yeah,” Pug said.
She came into the shack and s...tared at me, standing with a hand on her hip. The lantern and the cracked window made it light inside. Her hair was the colour of a bamboo fishpole, and she had on rouge and mascara, but underneath the paint her skin was good. She had on black slacks and a scarlet shirt and open sandals. She was beautiful. Pug scowled at me over her shoulder. Brother, I thought, this is the third-act curtain.
“So it's you,” she said.
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.
She turned to Pug. “What's the idea of beating him up?”MoreLess
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