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THE NIGHT was almost warm. He and Rawlins lay in the road where they could feel the heat coming off the blacktop against their backs and they watched stars falling down the long black slope of the firmament. In the distance they heard a door slam. A voice called. A coyote that had been yammering somewhere in the hills to the south stopped. Then it began again.
Is that somebody hollerin for you? he said.
Probably, said Rawlins.
They lay spreadeagled on the blacktop like captives waiting some trial at dawn.
You told your old man? said Rawlins.
No.
You goin to?
What would be the point in it?
When do you all have to be out?
Closing's the first of June.
You could wait till then.
What for?
Rawlins propped the heel of one boot atop the toe of the other. As if to pace off the heavens. My daddy run off from home when he was fifteen. Otherwise I'd of been born in Alabama.
You wouldnt of been born at all.
What makes you say that?
Cause your mama's from San Angelo and he never would of met her.
He'd of met somebody.
So would she.
So?
So you wouldnt of been born.
I dont see why you say that. I'd of been born somewheres.
How?
Well why not?
If your mama had a baby with her other husband and your daddy had one with his other wife which one would you be?
I wouldnt be neither of em.
That's right.
Rawlins lay watching the stars. After a while he said: I could still be born. I might look different or somethin. If God wanted me to be born I'd be born.
And if He didnt you wouldnt.
You're makin my goddamn head hurt.
I know it. I'm makin my own.
They lay watching the stars.
So what do you think? he said.
I dont know, said Rawlins.
Well.
I could understand if you was from Alabama you'd have ever reason in the world to run off to Texas. But if you're already in Texas. I don't know. You got a lot more reason for leavin than me.
What the hell reason you got for stayin? You think somebody's goin to die and leave you somethin?
Shit no.
That's good. Cause they aint.
The door slammed. The voice called again.
I better get back, Rawlins said.
He rose and swiped at the seat of his jeans with one hand and put his hat on.
If I dont go will you go anyways?
John Grady sat up and put his hat on. I'm already gone, he said.
HE SAW HER one last time in town. He'd been to Cullen Cole's shop on North Chadbourne to get a broken bridlebit welded and he was coming up Twohig Street when she came out of the Cactus Drug. He crossed the street but she called to him and he stopped and waited while she came over.
Were you avoiding me? she said.
He looked at her. I guess I didnt have any thoughts about it one way or the other.
She watched him. A person cant help the way they feel, she said.
That's good all the way around, aint it?
I thought we could be friends.
He nodded. It's all right. I aint goin to be around here all that much longer.
Where are you going?
I aint at liberty to say.
Whyever not?
I just aint.
He looked at her. She was studying his face.
What do you think he'd say if he seen you standin here talkin to me?
He's not jealous.
That's good. That's a good trait to have. Save him a lot of aggravation.
What does that mean.
I dont mean nothin. I got to go.
Do you hate me?
No.
You dont like me.
He looked at her. You're wearin me out, girl, he said. What difference does it make? If you got a bad conscience just tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it.
It wouldnt be you saying it. Anyway I dont have a bad conscience. I just thought we could be friends.
He shook his head. It's just talk, Mary Catherine. I got to get on.
What if it is just talk? Everything's talk isnt it?
Not everything.
Are you really leaving San Angelo?
Yeah.
You'll be back.
Maybe.
I dont have any bad feelings against you.
You got no reason to.
She looked off up the street where he was looking but there wasnt much to look at. She turned back and he looked at her eyes but if they were wet it was just the wind. She held out her hand. At first he didnt know what she was doing.
I dont wish you anything but the best, she said.
He took her hand, small in his, familiar. He'd never shaken hands with a woman before. Take care of yourself, she said.
Thank you. I will.
He stood back and touched the brim of his hat and turned and went on up the street. He didnt look back but he could see her in the windows of the Federal Building across the street standing there and she was still standing there when he reached the corner and stepped out of the glass forever.
HE DISMOUNTED and opened the gate and walked the horse through and closed the gate and walked the horse along the fence. He dropped down to see if he could skylight Rawlins but Rawlins wasnt there. He dropped the reins at the fence corner and watched the house. The horse sniffed the air and pushed its nose against his elbow.
That you, bud? Rawlins whispered.
You better hope so.
Rawlins walked the horse down and stood and looked back at the house.
You ready? said John Grady.
Yeah.
They suspect anything?
Naw.
Well let's go.
Hang on a minute. I just piled everthing on top of the horse and walked him out here.
John Grady picked up the reins and swung up into the saddle. Yonder goes a light, he said.
Damn.
You'll be late for your own funeral.
It aint even four yet. You're early.
Well let's go. There goes the barn.
Rawlins was trying to get his soogan tied on behind the saddle. There's a switch in the kitchen, he said. He aint to the barn yet. He might not even be goin out there. He might just be gettin him a glass of milk or somethin.
He might just be loadin a shotgun or somethin.
Rawlins mounted up. You ready? he said.
I been ready.
They rode out along the fenceline and across the open pastureland. The leather creaked in the morning cold. They pushed the horses into a lope. The lights fell away behind them. They rode out on the high prairie where they slowed the horses to a walk and the stars swarmed around them out of the blackness. They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on the round dais of the earth which alone was dark and no light to it and which carried their figures and bore them up into the swarming stars so that they rode not under but among them and they rode at once jaunty and circumspect, like thieves newly loosed in that dark electric, like young thieves in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold and ten thousand worlds for the choosing.
BY NOON the day following they'd made some forty miles. Still in country they knew. Crossing the old Mark Fury ranch in the night where they'd dismounted at the crossfences for John Grady to pull the staples with a catspaw and stand on the wires while Rawlins led the horses through and then raise the wires back and beat the staples into the posts and put the catspaw back in his saddlebag and mount up to ride on.
How the hell do they expect a man to ride a horse in this country? said Rawlins.
They dont, said John Grady.
They rode the sun up and ate the sandwiches John Grady had brought from the house and at noon they watered the horses at an old stone stocktank and walked them down a dry creekbed among the tracks of cattle and javelina to a stand of cottonwoods. There were cattle bedded under the trees that rose at their approach and stood looking at them and then moved off.