The Truck Comes on Thursday

by Sue Hardesty

  Crossing her fingers behind her back, Loni watched him taxi out and slowly rise in the air, waving to her as he turned and flew away. She climbed up to the loft, trying not to worry. Rene's plane wreck could have been Daniel or Uncle Herm. Settling for a long cold shower, Loni pushed her worry into a dark hole and covered it up.

  FROM: Loni Wagner

  TO: Sandi@gmailyahoo.com

  DATE: July 18

  SUBJECT: Still here

  I was finally able to arrest Billy Joe for rape. I guess that's all I have to say.

  Loni

  CHAPTER 19

  July 19, 7:20 a.m.

  ON HER WAY OUT of the loft, Loni grabbed the box of sopapillas that Shiichoo had made the night before. Uncle Herm was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee when she walked in. His broken down straw hat rested beside his coffee cup with a pair of scissors and an empty cereal bowl.

  Dropping the box in front of him, Loni picked up his hat and hung it on the rack by the door. "Has Mae given up about your hat on the table or is she gone?"

  "Give that back to me," Uncle Herm said. "Planned on cutting it up for cereal this morning," he said. "Just as soon as Mae shows up."

  "You're not serious."

  "You should see what she's been makin' me eat. I'm tired of healthy shit." He opened the box. "Oh, wow!" His expression was like a kid with candy as he took a sopapilla out of the box. "Jam or honey?" he asked as he opened his mouth to take a bite.

  "No! No! No!" Mae rushed in, yanking it out of his hand and putting it back in the box.

  "Man," Uncle Herm whined as Mae handed the box back to Loni while she stared Herm down. "Now there's a loud look!"

  "I can do louder. With the back of my hand," Mae said.

  "Then I guess I better not tell you about..."

  Mae hollered at him again. "Damn it, Herm. What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

  Loni watched in total confusion as Mae turned to her. "Bet he didn't tell you he's a diabetic now." Her curls stuck up at odd angles, and her housecoat was buttoned crooked.

  Shocked, Loni stared at Uncle Herm as a chagrined expression spread on his face. "No. Of course not. When did that happen?"

  Uncle Herm shrugged. "A couple of years ago."

  "His dad died of diabetes. It blinded him and destroyed his liver before he died," Mae harangued Herm as she tried to brush her hair with her fingers.

  "Hello the house!" A voice came from outside.

  "Hello the house?"

  "I'll be right back, so watch it." Mae rushed out of the room.

  Uncle Herm laughed. "That's Essey Rigall. You remember."

  "Sure," Loni said. "He ranches up around the Eagletails."

  Uncle Herm got up, opened the door, and hollered back, "Come on in, Essey."

  It had been over fifteen years since she had seen the tall, broad man who stood at the door turning his hat in his hands. Brown as her granddad, he was bowed from too many years working cattle, and broken bones had left him with a bad limp. White scars on his bald head showed where skin cancer lesions had been burned off. Between cleaning his feet and hanging up his hat, Essey was so slow getting into the kitchen that Mae was already back, hair brushed and housecoat buttoned right.

  She handed him a cup of coffee, and he leaned over to give her a peck on her cheek. "Mae. I always loved you best of all." He sighed, sitting down. "Herm got the pick of the litter with you."

  "Essey, you know my niece, Loni."

  "Last time I saw you, you were just a tyke at your daddy's knee." He gave her a sweet smile as Loni grinned back.

  "Just in time for breakfast, Essey. How many eggs?"

  "Three. With bacon. Four without."

  "Bacon it is. Loni?" Mae asked.

  "Let me help."

  "Essey, you're aways from the ranch," Uncle Herm probed.

  "Came to get Mae to run away with me," he said with an infectious laugh. "I remember the girlfriend you had afore Mae," he continued. "Used to court her after midnight when the rest of you boys had gone home. I'd stand outside and sing to her." He turned to Mae, who was frying the bacon. "I could sing for you."

  Uncle Herm shook his head. "You were the only man I knew who did all his courting after midnight."

  "Well, I got tired of havin' to whup all you boys. So I started a waitin' til you left.

  "Which one was she?" Mae asked.

  "Oh," Essey answered, "that's the one I married. I remember the first place we lived, right across from that old one room shack they called a schoolhouse. You remember that school, Mae?"

  "Yes," Mae smiled. "But I never heard you went to school there."

  Essey chuckled. "I was seven before I started. I was so shy I never said one word for two weeks. Then this young feller, a Baptist minister, asked me if I didn't want to take my coat off and started in to help me. Well, I jerked away and said, 'I don't need no help. I can take off my own goddamn coat.'" He grinned at the three of them laughing at him. "I got sent home and didn't go back no more that year."

  "It was only open two more years before they built the brick school. I don't remember hearing you went there either."

  "Well, I did finish at that shack. I only went to be with you," Essey teased her. He turned to Uncle Herm. "But then my brother whupped her brother and she didn't like me no more."

  Mae giggled. "Essey, that wasn't me. I wasn't even born then. Besides, you didn't have a hard time with the girls.

  "They all loved me. Wimen were always good to me. I met Granny in Caliente at a church social."

  "How's your wife, Essey?" Mae asked. "Heard she was doing poorly and you moved her to town." She placed plates in front of the men and poured another cup of coffee for herself. Loni took two more plates to the table.

  "Yup. Found a real good place. Right between the doctor and the church. Granny's quite a churchgoer, you know." Essey grinned. "Can't remember ever seeing you in church, Herm."

  "You didn't. We ran and hid in the brush before they could catch us."

  "No wonder you buncha kids grew up outlaws." Essey chewed a piece of bacon. "Good bacon."

  "Has she been to the new church?" Mae asked. "Heard everyone likes the minister."

  "Oh, yes. Granny likes them refined ladies there. They have tea doings and all. They were at our house one day last week, all setting around and talking. I walked into the house and looked around at all them wimen and said, "Look at all them purty legs!"

  "How come Pearl let you live?"

  "Oh, she was a little upset, but she didn't say much. I get bothered some when I think about them refined ladies. If an atom bomb came, I don't know what they would do. Why, if one of them gets a run in her sock or three flies in her house, she's all blowed up. If they're all goin' up yonder, I'd rather not go there." Essey picked up his cup. "I came by to get help with a windmill," he said to Uncle Herm. "Got some time?"

  "What windmill?"

  "The Woodmanse 45 up at Montezuma well. Raul called and said it quit pumping and he had to bring the mother cows down. He don't know why."

  "That's the one with the red tips on the blades?"

  "Yep." Essey got up and set his plate and cup in the sink.

  "I can get there Monday." Uncle Herm followed Essey out the door. "It's a pretty rare windmill around here now. Hard to find parts."

  As Loni put dishes into the dishwasher, she felt like she was in a time warp.

  * * *

  Following Lola's directions, Loni stopped in front of a two-story house surrounded by large eucalyptus trees. The limbs reaching across the roof shaded the wide porches circling three sides of the house with a roof that served as a deck for the second floor. Behind the house, tall date and fig trees lined a ditch that ran along a lane leading to a barn and a long row of flat-roofed buildings with garage doors. The yellow of the newly painted house trimmed with teal made a nice combination.

  Loni was staring at the bright red front door just as Lola banged out and trotted up to
her truck. She opened the passenger door. "Where's the ladder?"

  "Pretend you're mountain climbing. You can make it."

  "Not gracefully." Lola grimaced, reaching for the handle. Watching her pull herself up into the truck, Loni admired the cleavage revealed by her sleeveless red blouse and the tight dark blood-red pants that flared to accommodate short white boots.

  "Might wear bigger britches. What are those, size six?"

  "How sweet," Lola patted Loni's cheek. "I haven't seen size six since I was ten years old." Straining to close the reluctant door, Lola laughed as Loni tried to coax the truck to start. "Are you sure this thing has an engine? Where did you ever find it?"

  Loni glanced over at Lola as she waited to try again. "Butch belonged to my partner. I needed something to move my crap home in, so I sold my car."

  "Butch?"

  "Don't look at me. My partner named her." After few choice words, the truck finally started. Loni pulled away slowly, turning onto the road.

  "That's the one who died."

  "Yes."

  "She the reason you left here?"

  "Nope. Met her in Portland, Oregon. We went to college together." Loni sighed.

  "So, why did you leave here?"

  "Thought being Indian would be easier somewhere else." Loni shifted into fourth. "I always wanted to live by the sea. Seemed a good place to go to school."

  Lola didn't say anything else until Loni turned onto Old Highway 85 and the truck bounced along on the badly patched cement, sprouting more rattles and bangs.

  "Aren't these things supposed to be dangerous? Something about a bad rollover rate?"

  "Only to the people riding in them."

  "Cute." She frowned at Loni and sat silently a minute, arms crossed across her chest. "I should have worn a bra."

  Loni chuckled. "Ah, crap. Just roll 'em up and hang on."

  "Why is it making that knock -knock -knocking noise?"

  Loni laughed at her imitation of the sound. "I think Butch is about to throw a rod."

  "Exactly what does that mean?"

  "It means that I had better get an overhaul soon or I'll be walking."

  Lola had a quizzical look. "How soon is soon? Don't these things have guarantees that last for years?"

  "Some do."

  "How many miles is your guarantee?"

  "Fifty thousand, I think," Loni said after she thought a minute.

  "How many miles do you have?"

  Loni looked down and read the odometer. "Fifty-thousand, eight-hundred and two."

  Laughing, Lola finally managed to say, "Well, it made it."

  "Bite me," Loni retorted, joining in Lola's laughter. I can’t help it if it was rode hard and put away wet."

  * * *

  The abandoned motel at the edge of town was a blight on the main approach to town, yet the light-red adobe walls glowing behind the graffiti stood strong. So did the roof. Made from clay in Old Mexico, the tile ran across the roof in even red waves, and the old adobe wall surrounding the motel had only a few crumbled places and holes to patch.

  That's where it ended. Loni parked in front of the office and eyed Lola. "You ready for this?" They wandered through every room, checking them out. Fixtures, cabinets, and bathrooms were stripped away, along with ceiling boards. The wood floors were badly scarred. The windows were either broken or gone. Still, it was a starting place.

  "A very long time ago I stayed here a week one night."

  Loni frowned in her in confusion.

  "Well, it seemed that way," Lola continued. "I had just walked out on my husband. He beat the shit out of me, and I needed to clean up before I went home."

  Loni stared at her with horror.

  "So," Lola said matter-of-factly, "it's gonna cost a pile, but I think it would be cost effective to rebuild."

  "Labor's a big problem, but we don't have to have all the rooms ready to open. Maybe get the office area first and let a family live there to help with the grunt work. Shovel the rubble out and clean it up for construction."

  Lola pulled a small notebook from her pocket. "Get bids from electricians, plumbers, sheet rockers. Count the windows and doors. Figure fixtures for bathrooms and kitchens."

  Loni added, "Cabinetry. Refinish the floors. Paint. Find cheap furniture. Clean out the swimming pool and repair it. Fence it." Lola looked up. "How many rooms did we count?"

  "Twenty-four."

  "Twenty-four bathrooms and kitchenettes." Lola scribbled in her notebook.

  "How many doors and windows in each?"

  "Two doors and four windows."

  Lola kept writing.

  "Count one more door." Loni said. "Those garages in between could be turned into bedrooms. Maybe windows on one side."

  "Only dry rot is around the windows. They need to be reframed. And we need to make adobe bricks. I have a kiln in my backyard to bake them in."

  "How did you learn so much?"

  "My dad and brother are contractors." Lola turned and stepped on Loni's foot.

  Loni caught Lola to keep her from falling and held her a few seconds, reluctant to let go. This feels too good, she thought, wondering what it would feel like to kiss Lola. Loni backed up a step, mortified at what she was thinking. First time since Maria died, and it has to be a straight woman. Loni tried to replace Lola's face with Maria's, but her features were dimming in Loni's mind. She couldn't feel Maria's skin either or hear her voice anymore. She could look at Maria's photo to remember what she looked like, but she didn't have a recording of her voice. Crap! Just forget it. She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind and focus on what Lola was saying.

  "Sorry," Lola laughed as she unwound from Loni and moved toward the open door. "Are you really up to this?"

  Loni wondered exactly what she meant. Probably just the motel. "Figure the cost first and we can decide then."

  "Guess this means we'll have to spend a lot of time together."

  "Think you can put up with me?"

  "Sure. Just as long as you do it my way!" Lola laughed at Loni's expression of dismay.

  The truck pulled out of the motel driveway and picked up speed, loud noises ratcheting up as the large tires sang on the cement road.

  "That was thirsty work," Lola shouted.

  "Where do you want to go?"

  "How about McDonald's?"

  "Sure." She drove back up Old Highway 85 and pulled into the drive through. "A medium Coke, please, and a —?" Loni turned to Lola.

  "Diet Coke."

  "And a medium diet Coke."

  A girl with stringy brown hair handed Loni the Cokes. Loni searched for the indentation on the lid before she turned back to the girl. "Which one's the diet?"

  The girl stared back at Loni with a blank expression. "The one with the pushed in star on the lid."

  "Which one? No indents here." Loni showed the Coke lids to the girl.

  The girl leaned out the window and pushed on one of the lids. "Now it does."

  Loni handed the indented Coke to Lola as she pulled away. She and Lola tasted their Cokes, sputtered and traded. "Good thing I left my gun at home." Loni laughed.

  "Do you hunt?"

  "Only people."

  "Get serious. How many people have you actually killed?"

  "Well. None," Loni said sheepishly.

  "So? You're desert bred. Why don't you hunt?"

  "I remember Uncle Herm taking me hunting for white wing. He used me for a bird dog. I got to this one bird and picked it up, still alive. I saw the fear and terrible pain in its eyes. Something in me left with that warm creature that day and never came back." Loni got lost in the memory. "Never hunted again."

  Lola was quiet a minute. "Do you really live in an airport hangar?"

  "Doesn't everybody?"

  "Seriously."

  "Well, yes. But I also spend a lot of time with my grandparents," Loni added.

  "Where do they live?"

  "Just up Wagner Road a few miles."

  Lola snorted. "I f
orgot you have a road named after you."

  "Not me. It's my great grandfather Wagner who homesteaded."

  "Well then. Let's go up Wagner Road. I want to see your home."