“Should we restock?” Cal asked.
“Let’s not do it tonight,” Sully said.
“I bet you don’t ordinarily leave the store until it’s ready for morning,” Cal said.
“I don’t ordinarily get tired. In summer and warm weather me and Tom give the place a nice face-lift on Wednesdays, slowest day. When Enid’s in the store I spend more time on the garden and grounds but weekends find me right here, ready for anyone. Nights I patrol a little before I go to bed but hardly get any trouble. A year ago I got laid up with the pneumonia—things got pretty sloppy around here but we were running real low on weirdos or drunks so it was at least quiet. Don’t know why I’d get the pneumonia when the weather finally gets warm, but I never ran high on good luck, except for Maggie. Maggie’s about the luckiest thing a man could get and I wasn’t even trying. Imagine what I could do if I was trying?”
Cal smiled. The pneumonia made him grin. If you didn’t pay close attention to someone like Sully you would think he wasn’t terribly smart. But Cal did pay attention. Sully was sharp as a tack and had that enviable insight into people so few possessed. “Where’s your wife, Sully?” he asked boldly.
“Phoebe? She’s in Golden, married to someone who deserves her.”
“Are you still...you know... Do you miss her sometimes?”
“Miss Phoebe? Oh, Jesus, boy. Hell no, I don’t miss Phoebe! She’s the biggest pain in the ass I ever met. She’s everyone’s pain in the ass. Poor Maggie, that’s all I have to say. She tries to take care of her mother. Phoebe.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must’ve been drunk.”
Call laughed with him. “Well, what do you suppose it was?” Cal asked. “No man gets that drunk. She must have been beautiful. Or sweet. Something.”
“Oh, I could put a dent in the keg back then, but that Phoebe, she was mighty pretty. And funny and sweet but God as my witness, it sure didn’t last long. I shouldn’t’a brought her here—it was a bad match. She found fault with every breath I took. She was difficult. Miserable, unhappy.”
“What do you think was wrong?” he asked.
Sully thought for a moment. “Well, son, it’s mostly my fault, I’m sure of that. I’d been to Vietnam and it didn’t leave me right, if you know what I mean. I had settling to do, in my head and other places and I just hadn’t taken the time. I hadn’t stopped making noise enough to listen to that inside voice. I was listening to the voice in the bottle sometimes. Phoebe would bitch that I was drinking and I’d just drink more. And Phoebe? She’s one of those people who’s always hungry, if you know what I mean.”
Cal frowned. “Hungry?”
He shook his head. “She couldn’t be satisfied. I believe she tried, but she couldn’t. I didn’t understand until she left and took Maggie with her. Then I understood what that felt like. It’s a miserable feeling, wanting something you can’t have.” He put a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “You go on, Cal. It’s a nice evening. Cool but clear. There could be rain ahead so enjoy it now while you can.”
“If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Cal watched Sully put the closed sign on the door and went to his camper. He had the impression that Sully had just confided more in him than he had in his daughter, whose absence a long time ago had filled him with an aching hunger. He believed Sully might never have told Maggie she was the greatest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t a facial expression or inflection in his voice. It’s the way we don’t tell the most important people in our lives the most important things. It was how men tended to be.
“Let’s not do it tonight,” Sully said.
“I bet you don’t ordinarily leave the store until it’s ready for morning,” Cal said.
“I don’t ordinarily get tired. In summer and warm weather me and Tom give the place a nice face-lift on Wednesdays, slowest day. When Enid’s in the store I spend more time on the garden and grounds but weekends find me right here, ready for anyone. Nights I patrol a little before I go to bed but hardly get any trouble. A year ago I got laid up with the pneumonia—things got pretty sloppy around here but we were running real low on weirdos or drunks so it was at least quiet. Don’t know why I’d get the pneumonia when the weather finally gets warm, but I never ran high on good luck, except for Maggie. Maggie’s about the luckiest thing a man could get and I wasn’t even trying. Imagine what I could do if I was trying?”
Cal smiled. The pneumonia made him grin. If you didn’t pay close attention to someone like Sully you would think he wasn’t terribly smart. But Cal did pay attention. Sully was sharp as a tack and had that enviable insight into people so few possessed. “Where’s your wife, Sully?” he asked boldly.
“Phoebe? She’s in Golden, married to someone who deserves her.”
“Are you still...you know... Do you miss her sometimes?”
“Miss Phoebe? Oh, Jesus, boy. Hell no, I don’t miss Phoebe! She’s the biggest pain in the ass I ever met. She’s everyone’s pain in the ass. Poor Maggie, that’s all I have to say. She tries to take care of her mother. Phoebe.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must’ve been drunk.”
Call laughed with him. “Well, what do you suppose it was?” Cal asked. “No man gets that drunk. She must have been beautiful. Or sweet. Something.”
“Oh, I could put a dent in the keg back then, but that Phoebe, she was mighty pretty. And funny and sweet but God as my witness, it sure didn’t last long. I shouldn’t’a brought her here—it was a bad match. She found fault with every breath I took. She was difficult. Miserable, unhappy.”
“What do you think was wrong?” he asked.
Sully thought for a moment. “Well, son, it’s mostly my fault, I’m sure of that. I’d been to Vietnam and it didn’t leave me right, if you know what I mean. I had settling to do, in my head and other places and I just hadn’t taken the time. I hadn’t stopped making noise enough to listen to that inside voice. I was listening to the voice in the bottle sometimes. Phoebe would bitch that I was drinking and I’d just drink more. And Phoebe? She’s one of those people who’s always hungry, if you know what I mean.”
Cal frowned. “Hungry?”
He shook his head. “She couldn’t be satisfied. I believe she tried, but she couldn’t. I didn’t understand until she left and took Maggie with her. Then I understood what that felt like. It’s a miserable feeling, wanting something you can’t have.” He put a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “You go on, Cal. It’s a nice evening. Cool but clear. There could be rain ahead so enjoy it now while you can.”
“If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Cal watched Sully put the closed sign on the door and went to his camper. He had the impression that Sully had just confided more in him than he had in his daughter, whose absence a long time ago had filled him with an aching hunger. He believed Sully might never have told Maggie she was the greatest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t a facial expression or inflection in his voice. It’s the way we don’t tell the most important people in our lives the most important things. It was how men tended to be.
