"Come on in," Ann said. "It doesn’t look like anyone is here."
"Whacha mean? I tought ya said ya lifted alones." I heard her quest say with a very southern drawl. I grew up in south Louisiana so I recognized the accent as being southern black. I also thought it sounded a lot like the local bouncer at the El Matador Lounge, one of the few blacks in Prescott, Arizona. "Whacha gots ta drink. Days alwez closen downz da bar ‘for I gits enuff ta get loaded. Wonts let me drink whiltz I quarden da door an kickts us out whenz it closes," he complained.
"I have a couple of Curz left. Looks like someone was here and drank up most of the beer," Ann said from behind the refrigerator door. "Let me check up here and see if they found my stash of Jack," she said.
I’d been out of town for six days fighting a forest fire near Flagstaff. I got in around 7 pm and drove by Ann’s house to see if she was home. I thought it would be a nice surprise since I wasn’t expected to get off the fire for at least another week. Her Mustang was gone so I didn’t even stop. I drove down to the stables below her house to see if she was messing around with her horses. She wasn’t there either. When I backed up to turn around, I slipped into the ditch along side the road. It had rained some and I got stuck up to the rear axles. I didn’t feel like digging out and decided to crash at Ann’s house for the night. We had been seeing each other for a month or so and I knew she would be glad to see me.
I walked up to her place and went in. She never locked her doors since there were always people coming and going. I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Coors and drank it straight down. It had been a long dry spell since I left. It’s hard to find beer in fire camp so the cold brew really hit the spot. I drank a couple more. I thought about going out but was too tired and the buzz from the beer was making me sleepy. I decided to lay down and wait for Ann to get home.
As usual, her bedr... Læs hele novellen
