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They drank beer and swam in the river. Jack smoked. After an hour, Jack asked: “You want to check some houses?”
Joh
Jack walked to Joh
Jack thought it was bullshit. “He’s just a cop.”
“Your dad’s a cop.”
“Yeah, and I steal beer from his fridge. What does that tell you?” Jack spit in the dirt, a universal sign of disgust between the two boys. “Come on. Let’s do something. It makes you feel better. We both know it. And I can’t sit out here all day.”
“No.”
“Whatever,” Jack said, and shoved the map back between the spokes. He saw the feather tied to Joh
Joh
Jack ran the feather between his fingers. Light made it glisten at the edges. He tilted it against the light. “It’s cool,” he said.
“I said, leave it alone.”
Jack saw the new angle in his friend’s shoulders, and he let the feather drop. It swung once on its cord. “Jeez. It was just a question.”
Joh
“You heard that?”
“It was all over the news.”
Jack picked up a rock, rolled it from his good hand to his bad. “He’s already being scouted by the pros. He broke the record last week.”
“What record?”
“Career home runs.”
“For the school?”
Jack shook his head. “The state.”
“Guess your old man is proud,” Joh
“His son is go
They went back to drinking. The sun crawled higher, but the daylight seemed to dim. The air grew cool, as if the river itself had chilled. Joh
Jack got drunk.
They spoke no more of his brother.
It was noon when they heard the car downshift on the road. It stopped at the bridge, then turned onto the old logging track that led to the high bank above them. “Shit.” Jack hid the beer cans. Joh
A high, metal grill pushed through the weeds that grew between the ruts of the track, and Joh
Blue jeans. Boots. Thick arms. Joh
The driver’s face showed no emotion. The guy with the bourbon took a pull on the bottle. Jack said, “Fuck off, Wayne.”
Birthmark stopped laughing.
“That’s right,” Jack said. “I know who you are.”
The driver thumped the back of his hand on Birthmark’s chest. He was tall and well built, handsome in a postcard way. He regarded Wayne coolly, then pointed at Jack. “That’s Gerald Cross’s brother, so show him a little respect.”
Wayne made a face. “That little dipshit? I don’t believe it.” He took a step, leaned over the bank and raised his voice. “Your brother should have signed with Carolina,” he said. “You tell him Clemson is for pussies.”
“Is that where you’ll be going?” Joh
The driver laughed. So did the kid holding the bourbon. Wayne ’s face darkened, but the driver stepped forward, cut him off. “I know you, too,” he said to Joh
“Wait a minute,” Wayne said, and pointed. “That’s this guy?”
“Yes, it is.”
The words came without visible emotion, and the blood fell out of Joh
Jack touched Joh
Joh
Hunt’s son leaned out over the bank, but was clearly not disturbed by the confrontational tone. He spoke to Jack. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
“Why would you?” Jack said. “We’ve got nothing to say to each other. Gerald either, for that matter.”
Joh
“Once upon a time.”
Allen straightened. “Once upon a time,” he said, and there was no emotion in the words. “We’ll find another place.” He turned around, stopped, and spoke to Jack. “Tell your brother I said hi.”
“Tell him yourself.”
Allen paused, then offered an empty smile. He gestured to his friends, then got in the truck and started the engine. They backed up the dirt track, disappeared; then it was just the river, the wind.
“That’s Hunt’s son?” Joh
“Yeah.” Jack spit in the dirt.
“What’s the problem with him and your brother?”
“A girl,” Jack said, then looked out over the river. “Water under the bridge.”
The mood soured after that. They caught a garter snake and let it go, shaved driftwood with their knives, but it was no good. Joh
“You sure?”
“Unless you want to pedal me back to town on your handlebars.” Joh
The whistle called again, closer. “You’d better roll,” Joh
“Just call me later.”
Joh
Joh
Joh
They were halfway across when metal hit metal. Joh