Eventide

by Kent Haruf

  The girl showed up one night toward the end of March at Luther and Betty’s trailer house three hours after they’d gone to bed. She stood at the door in the cold until Luther came out in his ragged underpants. What you want? he said.

  I’m Donna, she said.

  Who?

  Donna. Don’t you even know me?

  She stood looking at him, wearing only a thin black raincoat against the cold and no scarf or gloves. She smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap wine.

  Donna, he said.

  Yeah.

  How do I know that’s you?

  Well fuck yes, it’s me. Who else would it be? Let me in. It’s freezing out here. Isn’t my mama at home?

  She’s here. She’s trying to get her sleep.

  Wake her up. I ain’t going to do nothing. I got kicked out. I have to find a place to stay for the night.

  I guess you can come in.

  He stood back and allowed her to pass and the tall blonde girl stepped into the front room and peered about. Luther went back to the bedroom and woke Betty.

  What is it? she said.

  You better get up and come look.

  What for?

  Come out here and see.

  Betty rose from bed and put on her robe and walked out sleepily to the front room. Don’t tell me, she said, looking at the girl. Is that you?

  It’s me, the girl said.

  Oh Lord. Oh my little girl. Betty rushed across the room and threw her arms around her and hugged her neck. The girl stood stiffly in her arms. Betty began to sob, patting her head. Oh my God. Oh my God. She leaned back to look at her. I ain’t seen you in so long. And look at you. So growed up. I just been hoping. Praying every day. Ain’t I, Luther.

  Yes, ma’am, he said. Sometimes more than once.

  What happened? Betty said. I tried calling you but that last woman you was with, she wouldn’t even let me talk to you.

  I got kicked out, the girl said. She stepped back away from Betty’s arms.

  She got kicked out, Luther said. That’s how come she showed up here. Looking for her mama.

  I need a place to stay, the girl said. That’s why I come here.

  You still ain’t said what happened, honey.

  It’s that woman, the girl said. She’s just a total bitch. It’s all she is. She wouldn’t let me do nothing. I had to go to church with them all the time and then she tried to stop me from seeing Raydell.

  Who’s he?

  This boy I know.

  What’s wrong with him?

  There ain’t nothing wrong with him. She’s just prejudiced. He’s half black and half white. She didn’t appreciate his black half.

  Where’s he at now? Is he here?

  Here? What would he be doing here? He’s back in Phillips. He lives there.

  Then how’d you get over here, honey?

  I got a ride from this man in a truck. I was out there on the highway waiting for a ride, freezing my ass off.

  I don’t think you should be out this time of night. Something could happen to you.

  What’s going to happen?

  Something.

  Oh, he never tried nothing. I wouldn’t even let him get started.

  It’s still dangerous like that to be out in the cold this time of night.

  What else was I going to do? I thought you’d let me stay for a while.

  Oh honey, course you can stay. It’s just so good to see you. Are you hungry? You want me to make you a bite to eat?

  I want to smoke one of my cigarettes.

  You smoke?

  Sure.

  Betty looked around. But we don’t usually let nobody smoke in here, she said. On account of Joy Rae and Richie.

  Who’re they?

  You don’t even know, do you. Your own half sister and half brother.

  I never even heard their names before.

  Well, that’s who they are. You got family you didn’t even know about.

  That’s right, Luther said. You got all kinds of family here. He grinned. But you two going to want to stay up and talk. Me, I’m going back to bed.

  When he left the room Betty took the girl’s hand and led her to the kitchen table. Why don’t you sit down here a minute. At least let me make you something hot to drink. I know you got to be thirsty.

  The girl looked around the kitchen. This is a mess, she said.

  I know that, honey. But you’ll hurt my feelings if you talk like that. I been sick.

  Well, it is.

  I’m going to clean it up. Betty removed a few dirty dishes to the counter and stacked some in the sink, then she set a jar lid in front of the girl.

  What’s that for?

  You go ahead and smoke if you only going to smoke a little. It’s your first night, honey. I’m just so glad you come home.

  SHE MOVED IN AND SLEPT THAT FIRST NIGHT ON THE couch in the front room. In the morning they introduced her to Joy Rae and Richie. The two children looked at her with suspicion and said nothing to her. After they left for school, she went back to sleep until noon, and then took a shower while Betty made lunch.

  The girl soon grew bored in the trailer and went out and walked downtown in the bright cold windy afternoon in her black raincoat and wandered into the stores. She loitered in Weiger’s Drug and at Schulte’s Department Store she looked at clothes hanging from the metal pipe racks. She tried on a long pink evening gown with a low-cut bodice while a nervous clerk watched her. The dress suited her tall body and made her look older and more sophisticated. For a long time she studied herself in the mirrors, turning to see how the dress looked from the side and the back, holding her hands as she had seen women do in magazines, then she took off the dress and put it back on the hanger and handed it to the woman. I changed my mind, she said. I wouldn’t care for it. She went outside again and crossed Second Street and walked up to the middle of the block to Duckwall’s.

  In Duckwall’s she wandered back into the aisles and picked up various items and examined them, and after about fifteen minutes, while the salesclerk at the cash register was ringing up a sale, she pocketed a tube of lipstick and a small tin container of mascara and eye shadow, then drifted slowly away to look at hand mirrors and purses and came up to the front of the store to the stands of greeting cards, and stood there for a while reading the messages, and finally walked out of the store onto the broad sidewalk.

  The children had come home on the bus by the time she returned to the trailer, and Betty then told Joy Rae to let her big sister move into her bedroom. Both of you can sleep in the same bed. You have to get to know one another sometime.

  Joy Rae was upset and frightened but the girl said: I got something to show you.

  What is it?

  The girl turned to her mother. We’ll be all right, she said.

  Because you’re sisters, Betty said.

  They went down the hall to Joy Rae’s orderly bedroom. Sit down, the girl said, and shut the door.

  What are you going to do?

  I ain’t going to hurt you. Sit down. I want to show you something. Joy Rae sat on the bed as the girl took the lipstick and the mascara from Duckwall’s out of her purse. I’m going to show you how to make up your face, she said. How old are you?

  Eleven.

  Well, shit. I was already kissing boys and wearing Make a Promise lip dew by then. You’re way behind. You’re awful young-looking, aren’t you. Kind of skinny.

  Joy Rae looked away. I can’t help it. It’s just the way I am.

  Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll fix you up. The boys in this little shit-ass town are going to go nuts over you. They’re going to want to eat you up. She smiled. Or wish they could.

  What are you going to do?

  I’ll show you. Lift up your face. That’s it. Well shoot, you’re kind of pretty too, did you know that?

  No.

  You are. I can see it. You’re going to get prettier too. Like me.

  The girl bent over her half sister and brushed mascara on he
r eyelashes and penciled on eyeliner. Stop blinking, she said. You want to fuck this up? You can’t blink your eyes while I’m doing this. She angled the younger girl’s chin a little and brushed on eye shadow, then stood back to inspect her and twisted open the lipstick tube and outlined the top lip and dabbed a quick deft spot on the bottom. Smooch them together, she said. Yeah, like that. But not so much.

  How do I?

  Like this. She showed her, then stood back again. Don’t you want to see what you look like?

  Yes.

  She stepped across the room and took a hand mirror from the dresser and held it in front of her. Well?

  Joy Rae studied herself in the mirror, lifting her head and turning her face. Her eyes opened wider. It don’t even look like me.

  That’s the point.

  Can I keep it on?

  Why not? I ain’t going to stop you. Girl, you’re ready to go. Then she lit a cigarette and sat down beside her on the bed.

  WHEN BETTY CALLED THEM TO SUPPER, JOY RAE CAME out with the makeup still on her face, and she sat down in her customary chair, looking steadily across the room, waiting.

  Hey now, Luther said. Who’s this? Look at my little girl.

  Betty looked at her and said: Oh, I don’t know if she’s old enough for that.

  She’s got to learn, the girl said. Who’s going to teach her if I don’t?

  They sat at the table and ate packaged salisbury steak and frenchfried potatoes and bread, with ice cream for dessert, and Joy Rae said very little to anyone while they ate but only looked at them out of her strange new eyes.

  After supper when everyone had gone to bed, the girl telephoned Raydell in Phillips and talked to him for a long time. You miss me? she said. Tell me what you’d do if you was allowed to see me. And what he answered her made her laugh.

  The next morning Betty allowed Joy Rae to wear the lipstick to school, but it wasn’t until recess that anyone said anything about it. Then three of the girls crowded around her and asked if she had the lipstick tube with her, and she told them it belonged to her big sister. They wanted to know since when had she gotten a big sister and Joy Rae said she had always had one, except she had never seen her before. They wanted to know when they could meet her. Maybe she could do their faces too.

  THE FOLLOWING DAY SHE WAS BACK IN DUCKWALL’S wandering the aisles in the late afternoon. When she was satisfied nobody was watching, she slipped a woman’s clasp purse from a display table into the pocket of her raincoat. Then she drifted again through the aisles and after a while she started out of the store. But the lady clerk stepped in front of her. You plan on paying for that?

  For what?

  That purse in your pocket. I saw you take it. She pulled the purse out and held it up.

  Oh. I forgot I put it in there.

  You were going to steal it.

  Like hell I was.

  The hell you weren’t.

  The lady called the manager out of his office in the back, a tall stringy man with a hard little paunch. What’s going on? he said.

  This girl here stole this purse.

  I wasn’t going to steal it.

  Yes she was.

  Do you know shoplifting’s a crime? the manager said.

  I wasn’t shoplifting, you dumb asshole. I forgot I had it in my pocket.

  You better just watch that dirty language. And you can sit right there. He pointed to a chair near the door. Call the police, Darlene, he told the clerk.

  The lady made the call and the girl sat on the chair and glared and waited. The manager stood over her. After a while a patrol car drew up to the curb in front of Duckwall’s, and a sheriff’s deputy in a dark blue uniform with a leather belt and revolver came inside, where the manager explained what happened. Is that right? the deputy said.

  No, the girl said.

  What’s your side of it then?

  I wasn’t stealing nothing. I forgot to pay, that’s all. I forgot I had it in my pocket.

  You have the money to pay for it?

  From her coat pockets she drew out cigarettes and matches and a little plastic purse that contained only coins.

  He looked at her. I haven’t seen you before, he said. Who are you?

  Donna Lawson.

  Where do you live?

  I’m staying with my mama and her husband on Detroit Street.

  Who’s that?

  Luther and Betty Wallace.

  The deputy studied her. All right, he said. He turned to the store manager. I’ll take care of this.

  I don’t want her back in this store.

  She won’t be back in this store. Don’t worry.

  She better not.

  The deputy led her by the arm out to the car and opened the back door and she got in. He came around and got in behind the wheel and backed away from the curb and drove to Detroit Street and stopped in front of the trailer. This is it, isn’t it?

  Yeah, the girl said. She started to get out.

  Where you going? he said. Did I tell you to get out?

  No.

  You wait till I tell you. Shut the door.

  She pulled it closed. What do you want?

  I’m going to tell you something before we go in there. I’ll give you a break this time. But you better watch yourself. You’re going to end up in more trouble than you can even imagine, more trouble than you ever thought there was in this world.

  I didn’t do anything.

  Yeah. I heard you before about that. That’s just bullshit. But you and me both know that’s what it is. Because I know what a girl like you can do. I’ve seen it over and over again. And I bet you’ve never been in the backseat of a car before either.

  What do you mean?

  You know exactly what I mean.

  Go to hell.

  That’s right. Just keep that up. But you better mind me. Hear?

  The girl sat looking at his face in the mirror.

  I said, did you hear me.

  Yes, she said. I heard you. All right? I heard you.

  Okay. Let’s get this over.

  They got out of the car and walked up the dirt path to the trailer. Inside, the officer told Betty and Luther what the girl had been accused of. He said that she shouldn’t be wandering around the streets and that they had to be more careful and keep better control of her. And why isn’t she in school? he said.

  She just got here, Luther said. We ain’t had no time to put her in her classes yet.

  Well, she better start going. As it is, she’s got too much time on her hands. I’ll be checking back with you on this.

  After he left, Betty and Luther tried to talk with her, but within five minutes she got fed up. Oh, fuck you, she said, and went back and lay down on Joy Rae’s bed. She didn’t come out for supper, but instead took the phone into the room and called Raydell to tell him to come get her. Raydell said it was too late. You better come over here, goddamn it, she said. You better come get me.

  She stayed in the bedroom with Joy Rae until eleven that night. Then Raydell drove up in front of the trailer and honked the horn, and she came out to the front room where Betty and Luther were sitting on the couch. Don’t try and stop me, she said.

  Betty began to cry and Luther said: You can’t go. Think about your mama.

  Fuck you, you fat fucker. And I’m sick of my mama. Look at her. She makes me sick. This ain’t my family. I don’t have no family.

  Then she slammed the door and ran out the path to the car. She slid in beside the boy and the car roared away, headed up Detroit Street, pointed toward the highway and out of town.

  Hearing the car speed away, Betty threw herself on the floor and began to thrash about and wail and kick. She kicked over the coffee table. Luther bent over trying to quiet her. It’s going to be all right, honey, he said. It’ll turn out okay. She didn’t mean them things she said. The two children Joy Rae and Richie came out of their rooms and stood in the hall, watching their parents, not at all surprised by what they saw, and after a while they
turned and went back to bed.

  In her bedroom Joy Rae went through the items on her dresser but the lipstick and mascara were gone now. She looked at her face in the hand mirror. Only a faint trace of red still showed on her mouth.

  34

  IN THE NIGHT SHE WAS LYING IN THE BACK BEDROOM with the blond man from the bank. Dena and Emma were asleep in their room up the hall, and it was a springlike night and the window was open to the fresh air and Mary Wells and Bob Jeter were talking softly in the dark. You don’t have to leave, she said. I don’t care about the neighbors. There’s just the two old widow women next door. They’ll talk anyway.

  I better go, he said.

  Please, she said. She was lying on her side facing him, her arm across his chest. Isn’t it nice here? Stay with me.

  What about your daughters?

  They’re beginning to get used to you. They like you already.

  No they don’t.

  Why do you say that?

  They don’t care for me at all. Why would they?

  Why wouldn’t they? You’re nice to them.

  I’m not their father.

  Stay, she said. Just for a while longer.

  I can’t.

  Why not?

  Because.

  Because you don’t want to.

  That’s not it, he said. He slid out from under her arm and turned away and rose from the bed, and in the dark he began to collect his clothes. Moving about the room he hit his foot against the leg of a chair. He cursed.

  What happened? she said.

  Nothing.

  I’ll turn the light on. She switched on the bedside lamp and watched him dress. Unlike her husband in Alaska, this man was very careful about his dressing. He stepped into his underwear, settling the waistband and drawing out the seat, and pulled on his shirt and pants and stood spreading his knees to support his pants while he tucked in the shirttail, then he buckled the leather belt with its thin brass clasp and afterward sat on the bed and pulled on his dark socks and dark shoes. His hair was disordered and he stood bent-kneed before the mirror at her dresser and combed his thin blond hair neat again and combed through his mustache and goatee. Then he put on his suitcoat and shot his shirt cuffs.