Page 12 of Small Town Beast: Saverin's Duet (Sins of the South)

Ten

Chapter Ten

"You heard about the powerball?" Gwen asked Tanya the next day.“They’re announcing it tonight.”

Tanya rubbed her aching temples. “Did it hit a billion?"

"That's what I heard. I got forty tickets. Figure it won't hurt."

Tanya did the math. Gwen had spent nearly half yesterday’s check on lottery tickets.

“You are crazy. Girl, what about rent ?”

“Rent? I’m going to win, Tanya. Then everybody will be paying me rent, see?”

“Only people from Florida or California ever win.”

“False,” Gwen declared. “The last winner was from San Jose.”

“San Jose is in California, Gwendolyn.”

“No it’s not. It’s right next to Arizona.”

“Baby, San Jose is not a state.”

“Whatever! I got the golden ticket. I know it.”

“What’s got you all in the sunshine? Did you and Rory… you know ?”

“Hell no!”

Tanya coughed skeptically.

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Giggling, Gwen unwrapped a cherry sucker. “What’s good, Tanya? You’re less of a zombie today.” She popped the candy in her mouth. “I mean, you’ve been a zombie for weeks. Is Amari sick or something?”

“Long night,” Tanya replied guiltily. Why couldn’t she tell Gwen the truth about Amari? Or Saverin, for that matter? Gwen would be the last person to judge her.

“I hear you. I was up all hours myself listening to this murder podcast,” Gwen said comfortably. “They don’t just cover murder, though. Kidnappings, human sacrifice, you name it. Did you hear about that girl in Poke Valley? The girl they found chained up in her own basement?”

“Ugh. No,” Tanya shuddered. She didn’t want to think about serial killers. They were actually the very last thing on earth she wanted to think about.

But Gwen was on a roll. “Well, that Poke Valley girl? Some fella broke into the poor lil’ bit’s house and chained her to the radiator. Her ex boyfriend, if you can believe it.”

Tanya’s head felt light. “You got aspirin?”

“I’m all out, honey.” Gwen pushed the sucker to the other side of her mouth and squinted down the alley. “If it ain’t that dog again. He is obsessed with you.”

Sure enough, Tanya’s furry friend came trotting happily up the street, his stump of a tail wagging hard in the air.

Tanya felt a little better. “Here, boy!”

The dog didn’t need calling; he was headed straight for Tanya already. As always he didn’t have a collar; she was now convinced he didn’t have an owner. If only she owned a bigger place, a real house! Then she could adopt him and give him a real name. Amari loved dogs.

Ah… everything reminded her of Amari. Please be okay…Don’t be hurt. Please God, don’t let him be chained to no damned radiator.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Here, boy. Come here!” she whispered to the dog.

With a happy bark the animal bounded up to her. It's stumpy tail made fast circles in the air. She knelt and scratched behind its ears. "Hi lil' boy," she said. "You hungry again?"

To Tanya’s surprise Gwen actually knelt and petted the dog. "Hey, his fur ain’t so matted,” the young redhead said. Cautiously she scratched his stomach with a finger, and the dog rolled over immediately, wriggling in joy.

“I told you he was cute,” Tanya said. “But if you hear Kyle coming...”

“I know.” Gwen looked over her shoulder, but Kyle was busy out front. The girls had a few more minutes on their break before he came to bother them.

“So who was that the other day that came to see you?” Gwen asked curiously.

“Mm?”

“The fella that made you high-tail it out of here.”

Tanya made a face. “My son’s father.”

“I told him my name was Tanya,” Gwen said wickedly. “He got all confused.”

“Thank you.”

“He’s not what I was expecting.” Gwen looked at Tanya sideways, waiting for more details.

“He’s from Rowanville,” said Tanya unhelpfully.

It wasn’t a dream, him coming to my house… She wondered how in the hell Colton had found her. She had tried her best to keep a low profile up here. Now after three years of no contact, suddenly he was popping up at her apartment, finding her at work? Maybe he had read her ad in the paper about Amari. But no; Colton didn’t even know what she had named their baby and he’d never known her last name, either. He couldn’t have put it together just off that.

Word must have got around. Rowanville wasn’t such a big city, after all, and for damn sure Florin wasn’t neither. It was possible someone had made the connection and told Colton.

“I haven’t spoke to that man since before my son was born. I wasn’t prepared— next time I won’t run,” she said grimly.

“He beat on you?” Gwen said, reading between the lines.

Tanya nodded.

“Is he rich?”

“Yeah.”

The dog looked ready to fall asleep right there at her feet. Everything is easy when you’re an animal.

Finally taking the hint, Gwen changed the subject. “Gee, Tanya, what would you do with a million dollars? Just one little million?”

“Build a house,” said Tanya, tugging on the dog’s ear.

“I’d buy my whole trailer park and make ‘em all pay me rent,” said Gwen with petty satisfaction. “I’d buy Mavis Duncan’s house and put her out on her ass.”

“Who is Mavis Duncan?”

“A real bitch. You ever wanted to travel? I’d go to Paris."

Tanya scratched the dog’s other ear. It had been one of her fantasies to travel around the world with Amari when he was old enough, since she’d never been farther than Rowanville in her life.

"Maybe," she said slowly, "Maybe I'd go somewhere warm...the Caribbean or something. The beach…"

Gwen bounced up as if she’d already won the money. “We can go together! You can bring Amari and everything.”

Tanya’s heart throbbed painfully. Tell her the truth! “That would be nice.”

“You’re like, the only one around this place I can stand. And what’s the point of having money if you have nobody to share it with?”

As Tanya thought of Saverin, Gwen’s face flushed with hope. “Forty tickets, I got to have a prayer at least."

“Sure, baby.”

Gwen crunched down the rest of the sucker and flicked the colored stick into the garbage.

Table three had filled up with some Florin men. White men. They wore hunting gear, which was covered in blood and dirt and God-knew what else.

Tanya had shooed away the dog and washed her hands all the way up to the elbow. But she took one look at the feral pack at the table and wished she hadn’t bothered. She could already tell where this would be going.

"Good morning. My name is Tanya and I'll be taking care of you today."

"You can take care of me any day, honey." The leader of the group smirked at Tanya, looking her up and down. "Where you from?"

"Florin," said Tanya in a don’t even try it voice.

“Swear I saw you down at the Turnkey the other night.”

Tanya inwardly froze. But she just said, “The what?” in a bored tone.

"These days there's so much crossing lines," the man said, dragging every word out. "We got a passel of halfbreeds running around the hills these days.” He laughed and let his eyes wander all over Tanya. “You want one?”

“Want what?”

“A halfbreed. We’d make some cute little’uns, sure would.”

“Lay off her, Hiram,” one of his buddies said wearily.

Tanya said, “Are you ready to give me your order?”

“No point rushing. How do you like waiting tables on the white side?" His hand inched towards her behind.

“Hiram, stop jawin' and tell her the order," another complained. “I’m hungry as a tick.”

Tanya memorized the creep’s face. Lord, some of them sure were ugly. Red hair falling out at the temples, and his nose was broad and lumpy like he’d broken it many times. His skin was pale as a catfish belly underneath dark moles and freckles. He rumbled, "You can fill us up with some milkshakes to start, and then lay us down five of those Fat Boy breakfasts. Eggs, sausage, ham, grits, and the home fries. After that we want a slice of apple pie each. And a dozen of your biscuits to go. Can you do that, sugar pie, or I need to say it slower?"

Tanya smiled at him coldly.

"Mind, I want every bite to be hot like you just took it off the grill. Got that? If it ain't to our liking, you'll have to make it all over again until you get it right."

When Tanya took the menus his fat dirty fingers brushed hers. “Come out back with me after, chocolate, and I can give you more than just a tip,” breathed Hiram. His eyes were small and cruel and he stank of sweat. Chocolate .

“Ass like that should be bent over my backseat, right?” he goaded.

“Wrong,” said Tanya.

As she was walking to the kitchens she heard him say, “No tip, then.” And his buddies all laughed.

Ha ha ha .

Rory had returned to his post, looking like he’d just been dining in the garbage bin with a family of raccoons. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the ticket Tanya handed him. “Shit,” he said. “That’s a lot.”

“Get started, ‘cause they’re giving me hell.”

Rory sighed. "I didn't sleep at all last night, Tanya. I kept dreaming of fire. I think I have a real phobia now."

“Just cook the damn eggs, Rory.”

Gwen hurried past them with a full plate, tears running down her cheeks. Tanya caught her arm. "Hey! What's going on?" Her protective instinct reared. Gwen might be silly as a bat but Tanya looked out for her.

"Kyle!" said Gwen bitterly, scrubbing at her cheeks. “He keeps grabbing on me! I can’t get him to stop.”

“Oh shit,” said Rory.

Gwen rounded on him. “You need to go beat his ass, Rory! Now!”

“Gwen, honey, I need this job.”

“What kind of man are you anyway? I thought we was together! Well, you can just forget it! I need a man who can protect me!”

"I'll talk to him," Tanya promised Gwen quickly. “Just stay here with Rory and don’t think on it.” She whisked a clean tray of icy water from the station and went to her second table as Gwen and Rory started bickering.

This next table was full of old ladies. They wasted no time to unburden themselves of their concerns.

"I ordered wheat toast, not white."

"I saw a mouse in the parking lot on the way in here. What do you have to say about that?"

"This grape jelly jiggles too much. I want some grape jelly with less jiggle in it."

By the time Tanya found a moment to talk to Kyle it was nearly noon. She glanced quickly at the Redneck Table and found they were finished with the meal. They could hold on for a few more minutes; she was in no hurry to get sexually harassed by those creatures.

"Where's Kyle?" she asked Rory, rushing back to the kitchen. Kyle was always missing until someone else tried to sneak off for a break. Then he appeared like the Kool-aid man busting through the damn wall.

"He just stepped out," Rory told her. “Tanya, tell Gwen not to break up with me. I think it’s mighty unfair because all I ever do is support her.”

“Tell her yourself, Rory!” Tanya snapped. She hustled back into the alley and sure enough found Kyle, smoking with a big happy smile on his face. Today his rat-tail was slicked back with maybe a half pound of grease.

“Kyle. I need to talk to you.”

The manager blew a smoke ring. “Yes, Tanya?”

“Leave Gwen alone. That’s the first thing.”

“And why would I do that? Because you told me to?” He laughed. “You must be out of your cotton-picking mind, Tanya Weaver. I swear you’re beggin’ me to fire you."

“I’m telling you to leave that girl alone or you’ll regret it.”

“If Gwen had more sense,” Kyle smiled, “She'd spread them skinny legs and get some privileges around here." He sucked on his cigarette, taking pleasure in her rage. “That goes for you, too.”

“You think I’m scared of you?”

“Given your circumstances, I reckon you should be. Unmarried mother with your background …My aunt Laura took a chance on you. And then my sainted Aunt, a Christian woman, hears what you been up to on a Friday night at the Turnkey.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” bluffed Tanya, now ice cold to her bones.

“My Aunt doesn’t like whores. Not one little bit. She was fixin’ to fire you, but who do you reckon saved your ass? Stuck his neck out? Just begged Auntie Laura to let you stay on? I’ll admit it, Tanya, this place wouldn’t run without you. But your attitude needs adjusting.” Kyle gripped his dick through his jeans. “If you fuck me, I’ll raise your pay a whole dollar. How about it?”

“Go to hell.”

“You sure?”

She could see the imprint of his thin, long dick; he was actually hard. Tanya felt sick. Was this her reputation now? Did every son of a bitch like Kyle think she was that easy?

He laughed at her expression. “Think about it, sister . I’m a McCall. You know what that means? It means I don’t even mind that you’re a nigger.”

“Kiss my ass, redneck.”

Kyle lunged at her, a hand closing around her throat.

Tanya’s fist cracked out on instinct, connecting with his jaw. Visions of Colton flashed before her. Strong hands wrapping around her throat. Spit flying over her face. I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!

“Don’t touch me!” Tanya shrieked, but it wasn’t Kyle she spoke to. It was a ghost she never hoped to see again. She struck back again and again, fighting for her life in a dark bed, except it wasn’t a bed, but a dirty alleyway in broad daylight. She had Kyle backing up to the kitchen door, trying now to get her off him. And honestly? She was whupping his ass.

“You–you— bitch !” he moaned. “You’re fired! You’re fired !”

“No she’s not,” said Gwen, leaping into the alley with her phone up and recording it all live.

“I got the whole thing on video, Kyle!” Gwen cried. “You put hands on her first and you called her that word, which is racial discrimination! You could go to jail!”

“It’s..freedom of speech,” growled Kyle.

Gwen frowned. “Is it, Tanya?”

Tanya fell back, breathing hard, reality returning. I’m not there, I’m here. I’m here.

Kyle made a grab for Gwen’s phone but she nimbly danced backward.

“Back to work, both of you!” he snarled.

“And don’t touch me again!” Gwen added, still holding up the phone. “Pervert!”

Kyle grabbed Tanya by the back of her shirt and promised darkly, “One day you’ll have to fuck me to keep this job, Weaver. I’m waiting for the day!"

Tanya pulled away from him and fled back indoors with Gwen.

"Thanks,” Tanya breathed to Gwen when they were safely locked in the bathroom. “Oh my God, I know that motherfucker didn’t put his hands on me…”

“Tanya, hold on.”

“What?”

“I got bad news, Tanya.” Gwen put her phone away, looking sick to her stomach.

“ What ?”

“I was coming out to tell you when I heard Kyle goin’ at you. Tanya, those men you were serving? They walked out on the check!"

Tanya unbolted the bathroom door and raced to the dining room. It was true.

“I’m sorry!” Gwen said miserably. “I looked up and they were all gone, Tan! Slid out faster than greased newts!”

Tanya sagged against the wall. “Oh shit.”

“I’m so sorry, Tanya.”

“It’s not your fault. That table was my responsibility.”

In three years of waitressing that had only happened to Tanya twice, but these men had eaten enough to feed a stable and the policy was that the tab would come off her paycheck. She had left her post to confront Kyle. It was her fault and she would have to pay for it.

Kyle looked like Christmas had come early. “Call the police?” he warbled, holding an ice pack to the bruise Tanya had put on his jaw. “No, sweet pea, I ain’t calling the police. You’ll just have to take it off your check. That’s our policy, which you know perfectly well.”

“If you weren’t bothering me — ”

“You stepped outside in the middle of your shift,” Kyle interrupted. “I could fire you over that.”

But they both knew it was an empty threat as long as Gwen had him on video choking her out. Maybe she could blackmail him since he’d called her a racial slur… as if.

The man might be a turd, but he had connections to Florin’s big families, and if he decided to use all three of his brain cells he might realize that he could destroy her life with a word in the right ear. She’d never work in Florin again. No; she just had to hold the L…

Shit.

Tanya went to the bathroom and washed her face, stressing the hell out. Five hundred dollars. Exactly what Saverin had left her to pay Faisal. Now her remaining money had to go to rent. And Faisal wouldn’t get paid.

Of course there was another option…

“No,” she hissed at her reflection. Absolutely not. She was not going to take the PI up on his dirty suggestion and give up a little ass to cover the rest.

What if you asked Saverin? You’d have to tell him what happened. You’d be even more in debt to him.

“I’ll cover half, Tanya,” Gwen offered, catching her as she left the bathroom. “It’s my fault you went out to talk to Kyle in the first place.”

Tanya flatly refused.

“But you only went out there to defend me,” Gwen argued. “Rory will help, too, right Rory?”

“Yes,” backed up Rory. “Anything for you, Tanya. I remember you saved my life the other day.”

Tanya wouldn’t hear it. She couldn’t take money from teenagers. She knew what it was like to struggle with no family at that age. Hell, she was barely older than Gwen and Rory but still as the senior among them had to set the standard. It was her fuckup and she had to own it.

“Don’t worry y’all. I’m good,” she smiled. “I got it handled.”

“Here,” said Gwen suddenly, digging in her purse. “Here’s a ticket. These goofballs gave me two copies of the same number, if you can believe it.”

“No, Gwen. Come on.” Tanya wouldn’t take the lottery ticket until Gwen pinned her down and stuffed it in her bra. They all started laughing and went back to work. Tanya tried to put aside the sinking feeling that life was out to get her.

The table full of old ladies spent seventy nine dollars. They tipped her two dollars and one of them left a big wet patch on the seat.

Tanya clocked out at three-thirty. It was a hot summer afternoon, and the walk to the bus stop felt longer than ever. She wanted to get to Bee’s side of town to check on her friend. Bee wasn’t answering her phone which had Tanya worried.

The humidity felt like a wet heavy blanket. Tanya took a seat on the uncovered bus stop bench, resting her canvas bag on the tops of her feet. People said if your bag touched the ground you’d stay broke. She couldn’t take any chances because this no-money life was trash.

I got to come up on some money soon. No more of that prostitute shit. I wonder how Miss Laura Jane found out about me. Just my luck. Lord, it’s hot!

She pictured driving a nice big truck with air conditioning.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, her Memaw used to say.

I’d wish for Amari back. And I’d wish to own a hair salon or something, just a nice business in town that would keep my head above water.

A schoolbus pulled up at the stop sign and the door hissed open. Children’s laughter rang out. Tanya watched the kids through the window.

A little boy got down and waved to the bus driver. Tanya’s heart damn near stopped; but it wasn’t Amari. The child was mixed race, with curly floppy hair. He had sneakers that lit up and he carried a backpack with that puppy cartoon Amari loved plastered on the back. An older woman– his granny?-- appeared out of nowhere; she must have come down from the holler behind the bus stop. She took the backpack off the kid’s back and ruffled his hair.

“Hey, chunks. Good day at school?”

“We made a volcano today!”

“That’s nice, honey.”

Tanya watched them from the corner of her eye until they disappeared up into Shady Holler. The bus moved on, the happy noises of the kids fading.

She fiddled with her keyring. Amari , said the custom plate. She had rubbed it so much the letters were dull and worn.

The ground rumbled under her feet and her head lifted again, hoping it was the bus. But it was just a pickup truck. It ate up the asphalt in spite of the heavy cargo of construction supplies in the back: wood framing, steel, boxes wrapped in plastic. Before it passed she saw the driver and her heart nearly stopped again.

Him!

He didn’t see her; the Legacy blazed up the road and left a haze of smoke in the air.

Saverin was headed to Laura Jane’s holler. He had just crested the hill when he happened to take a glance in his side mirror and saw Tanya Weaver sitting at the bus stop, probably just coming off work.

He turned at the top of the hill and coasted back down, honking on his horn. She waved back hesitantly.

“Where are you headed?” He called.

“Not where you’re going,” she said, full of attitude as usual.

He beat the frame with a fist. “Get in.”

She shook her head. Something was up with her; he got out of the truck and crossed the road. She stood up from the bench, holding her bag in front of her defensively.

“Not today with you, Saverin!”

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

Tanya looked rumpled and irritated, and he could tell it wasn’t just the heat. Hair blew about her face, some strands plastered down by sweat.

“Long day at work?” He proposed. Her mouth buttoned up some more. If what I hear about that Appletree place is true I ain’t surprised .

“What’s all that for?” Tanya asked, gesturing to the materials crowding the Legacy bed.

“Doing some work for a friend. I can take you home; it’s on the way.”

“No, thank you. I have to check on my homegirl.”

“Where does she live?”

“Black Florin. You know, my side. ”

“And where in Black Florin would that be?”

“Peach Holler. By that church. But I’ll wait on the bus.”

“You’ll be waiting a while. The bus is down,” he informed her.

“ What ?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “It sprung a flat about three stops ago. Passed it on the way up. The driver left it; he’s gettin’ loaded at the Greasy Hog as we speak.”

“Are you serious?” Tanya glanced at a battered digital watch on her wrist, then down the road with new determination. “I can wait for the next one.”

He plucked at the strap of her canvas bag. “Truth is, I’m just dyin’ to know what you think of my truck.”

“I’ve seen it,” she quipped.

“Not up in the royal seat. Come on.”

She hesitated, glancing back down the road.

“Just get in, chocolate.”

“I must be crazy,” she muttered, crossing the road with him. The height of his truck finally broke into her sense of humor. “My God! How the hell am I supposed to get up there? Trampoline?” she exclaimed.

“You didn’t have a problem the other night.”

She shot him a fierce look and he grinned.

When she was tucked into the comfortable passenger’s seat, Saverin cranked the air conditioning all the way up, satisfied when she sighed and leaned back in obvious relief. He pulled off the curb and made his way towards Black Florin. She didn’t say another word. At a stop sign he glanced across the console and found his Tanya fast asleep.

Instead of turning into Black Florin, he drove towards Laura Jane’s holler. Passing his cousin’s house, the rutted road tested his Legacy’s suspension. But still Tanya didn’t wake up. Poor chick must be weary to the bone.

He stole looks at her frequently, always amazed how damned pretty she was. Maybe some of these debutante types would have sneered at a girl like that– plain clothes, no face paint, no jewelry but the battered watch. But Tanya…She was just something else. Like an angel come to earth. An angel made of earth. He finally knew what her skin reminded him of. Not chocolate. No; it was the deep, dark richness of the old growth Bailey forest.

Soft lips. High brows. Slanted eyes. Her skin was dark, smooth, and hairless. So different from his. He picked up her hand where it rested in her lap and spread open her small fingers. At her wrist he felt the slow pulse of life.

Life…

I’m no good at this shit.

He pulled up to Wilks Johnny’s house and put down the windows down for her.

“Who’s that?” Wilks Johnny demanded as Saverin walked up. The old veteran’s sharp gaze missed nothing. “She can come up here and sit; I don’t bite.”

“Just a friend of mine. She’s tuckered out so I’m lettin’ her rest.”

“That’s a black girl,” Wilks Johnny observed.

“Last I checked.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“We’re friendly,” said Saverin in the abrupt country way that meant they were certainly more than that.

The veteran grunted, “Well, come on up and take a look at this roof. Be careful– I can’t do nothing for you if you break your ass and your lady won’t like it neither.”

“I won’t break my ass,” Saverin assured him.

Heights held no fear for Saverin Bailey. He’d once scaled a four-story pine without rope or line. His brother Sam had climbed up right behind him, panting. Wait up, motherfucker.

If you put some muscle on them chicken arms you’d be faster, Saverin had taunted back, grinning.

He waited at the top for Sam to meet him, and then brothers sat up there in perfect silence looking out at the serene view below, perched on the strong boughs of the pine.

The wind gently blew them back and forth as they admired the ancient Blue Ridge going on for miles in every direction. It was perfectly silent and still. Utterly, perfectly peaceful. Then Sam ripped a huge fart. They both nearly fell out the tree laughing like lunatics.

Saverin put his ladder up and climbed.

While Saverin inspected the roof, Tanya was dreaming of an ocean. A wide, blue ocean with no beginning nor end. She had always wanted to see the ocean, which she imagined was bluer than the sky. In her dream, she stood at the very edge of the shore, water coming up to her knees. She held Amari’s hand.

Look, mommy.

What is it, baby?

Tanya looked down at her son, feeling a dull throb of sadness, though she didn’t know why. She lived only in this dream. Amari held up a seashell in his little hands. It was the size of an egg, a swirl of every color in the rainbow. The perfect spiral in the center mirrored the way Amari’s hair grew. He smiled up at her, his cheeks dimpling.

Do you want it, mommy?

No, baby, it’s yours.

Can we sit on the sand now?

Sure, Amari. Let’s stay here a while…

Balancing on the sides of his feet Saverin crossed the roof, noting how the crossbeams bowed under his tread. Not good.

It didn’t take him long to spot peeling, bloated shingles, some parts bald and revealing the rotted framing underneath, which was infested with mildew. Since he’d seen no sign of water damage in the living room and kitchen when he’d passed through the house days before, Saverin guessed the worst interior damage was where the old man slept. A question shouted down to Wilks Johnny confirmed this theory.

“Yeah, I keep a bucket in my room,” the old man called back. “Been leaking two years now.”

Before he walked back to the ladder, Saverin cast an eye down to his truck. Tanya was still sleeping soundly.

“You didn’t use a rope or nothing,” Wilks Johnny chided when Saverin’s boots hit the porch again. “You don’t value your life?” The old man reached for his little radio and turned down the scratchy noise of his evening news. Salt-and-pepper eyebrows rustled together. “Go on, give me the headline. I can tell from your face I won’t be jumpin’ for joy.”

Saverin smiled at the joke but the truth wasn’t so funny. “I don’t think you’ll like it,” he agreed.

“Won’t be the worst news I’ve ever had,” said Wilks Johnny philosophically.

Saverin didn’t mince it. “You need this whole thing scrapped and done over. The worst of it is on the east side. I’d say you got about twenty years of water damage right there.”

Wilks Johnny grunted, “Longer than that.”

“When was the last time you had it looked at?”

“Ninety three.”

“With the rains coming next month, now’s the perfect time to get her done. It’ll only get worse.”

“Guess I’ll go dig up that pot of gold under the fencepost,” said the old veteran dryly.

“No need for that.”

“Well, how much you figure this new roof will cost me?” The old man lifted his chin squarely, prepared for the sucker punch.

“It’ll cost you nothing.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“No charge,” Saverin repeated. “I’ll have some men come by next week and we can get her done. You can stay here the whole time, we’ll just lay a tarp down if we have to overnight it.”

Wilks Johnny scowled. “I can pay. I have some money set by.”

“No,” said Saverin.

Anger darkened the old man’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Bawl all you want, but you know damn well I can’t take your money and that’s the end of it.”

The old man cleared his throat and looked away. “You can put your tools in that shed out back. I figured I would be sleepin’ there when the roof fell in.”

“It won’t come to that,” Saverin assured him. He put out his hand and Wilks Johnny shook it, sealing the deal.

“Bring your girlfriend up here to meet me next time,” Wilks Johnny requested. His eyes twinkled. “Don’t wear her out too much.”

“I won’t.”

“Next week then, cowboy.”