When the Women Come out to Dance (2002) (22 page)

Now, if there hadn't been too much rain Lydell would hav
e already mowed the orchards with a brush hog and raked u p the sticks. Ben hoped to see a crew using the shaker today o n the trees: mechanical arms gripping the trunk, giving eac h tree a good shake for half a minute or so, then bringing in th e Nut Hustler to gather the pecans from the ground.

Ben turned onto the road that edged along his propert
y and pretty soon there they were off to the left: fifty-and sixtyfoot trees on the average looking bare this time of year, a tangle of limbs reaching up to stand dark against the sky, some of the trees growing here seventy years or more.

But no crews in there working, none he could see, only
a park of black trees, spiderwebs of limbs and branches, cluster s of pecans, untouched. Either the crew started on the othe r side of the river . . . Wait a minute. Ben raised his foot fro m the gas pedal to let the SUV coast and slow down. He sa w shapes, movement, deep in the trees.

Cattle. A dozen or so cross-Brahmas grazing on papershel
l pecans.

But there were no cows on the property. Not a one sinc
e Carl died.

His great-granddad's original house stood o
n this road, where Virgil lived till he made his oil money an d built a new one in the 1920s, a big California bungalow tha t was back in the property, the house where Lydell was now living.

Except Lydell was sitting on the porch of the origina
l house, now weathered gray, its porch roof sagging to one side.

Ben turned in past a sign that said NO TRESPASSING, one he'
d never seen before, and stopped in the yard next to Lydell'
s pickup, Lydell watching him, the old man's expression takin g time to change and now he seemed to be smiling as Ben approached.

"Well, Carl, I'll be God damn. When'd you get in?"

Ben stepped up on the porch.

"Tell me you're being funny."

The old man looked puzzled now. How long had it bee
n since they'd spoken on the phone? Jesus, last Christmas, almost a year. "Lydell, how come you're not up at the other house?"

"What for? This is where I live."

"You used to," Ben said. "Carl died, I said go on live in th
e new house." The new house as old as some of the oldest peca n trees. Lydell looked puzzled again. Ben said, "Lydell, I'
m Ben." And saw the old man's face begin to change again, ligh t coming into his eyes, and Ben heard himself say oh shit.

"Yeah, hell, you're Ben. But you sure look like you
r daddy."

Ben let that one go. "How're you feeling?"

"Well . . . I don't know. I seen the doctor. He said I'm a
s good as can be expected."

"Why'd you go see him?"

"I get dizzy at times and have to sit down. I think from th
e chemicals, that spraying every year as long as I can remember.

I know a boy that did the spraying had to have all his bloo
d drained out and new blood pumped in and he was fine. Wen t up to Tulsa to work as a gardener."

"But why're you living in this house again?"

"They's only one of me and they's three of them. Four whe
n they have a woman there with 'em. They said they ought a have the house and wrote it into the deal, the lease."

"Lydell, these people leased my house?"

"They leased the property. I musta told you of it in my report. Carl, you can't hire the labor you used to. These fellas come along, offer to work shares on the pe-cans and their cattle both."

"Their cows are in the orchard."

"Again? Goddamn it, I keep telling 'em about that."

"And nobody's working." Ben stepped off the porch to th
e ruts in the drive to look toward a closed-up barn, a shake r power--hooked to a tractor with a covered cab and a Nu t Hustler sitting outside in the weeds and brush. The hous e where Lydell should be living was a quarter of a mile up thi s farm road that cut through a grove of pecan trees, the hous e not in sight from here.

"Lydell, they haven't touched the equipment."

"I'll get on 'em, Carl, don't worry. The one they cal
l Brother? He'll go into town and bring me back my supper if I a sk him nice. Get it from the Sirloin Stockade or a TV dinne r from Git 'n' Go."

"Lydell, they walk up and say they want to lease th
e place?"

"Their name's Grooms. A daddy name of Avery and th
e two boys. Hazen about your age and the younger one they cal l Brother. Carl, it's so God damn hard to get labor--Hazen says they'll work the pe-cans, I won't have to lift a hand."

"And they stick you in this shack."

"Hell, it was my home for years and years."

"How'd they come to pick this place?"

"We's related, what they tell me, on my mama's side. The
y stop by and we's talking, I believe they come fro m Texarkana."

"Lydell, you have a copy of the lease?"

The old man touched his shirt pocket. "Yeah, it's somewheres. I have to remember now where I put it."

"How long they been here?"

"They come by the first time," Lydell said, "I believe wa
s toward the end of spring, with a real estate woman. Then the y come back again and moved in."

"They've been here most of the year," Ben said, "and yo
u never told me?"

"I thought I did, Carl."

Ben drove toward the house, a quarter mile u
p the farm road, creeping the SUV through the orchard to loo k at the trees. None of the grounds had been brush-hogged. H
e angled off the road to get closer to the trees. None had bee n picked, some with fungus growing on the limbs.

Now the house was straight ahead past cleared land: th
e house, the structure back of it where pecans were sorted an d bagged, an old red barn, a tractor with a rake attached standing outside. The road continued on to a gate that closed off pasture, where a few cows that weren't supposed to be her e were grazing. A pickup truck and a Cadillac with a good te n years on it stood at the side of the house, stucco with gree n trim that needed paint.

Carl had called it a California bungalow design, the kin
d that didn't look too big till you got up close: the porch i n shade, sun shining on bare windows coming out of the stee p pitch of the roof. Ben stopped behind the Cadillac and presse d down on the horn to give it a blast. He waited.

Now the screen door swung open and a man in his sixtie
s wearing new bib overalls came out on the porch, his dark hai r slicked back, a bottle of beer in his hand. Ben was out of th e SUV now walking toward the house. The screen swung ope n again and a forty-year-old version of the first one appeared.

Ben took this one to be Hazen, with the same slicked-bac
k dark hair as his dad but more of it. He wore a striped shir t hanging open with his jeans and what looked like lizar d boots. Ben thought Avery, the dad, could stand in for Harr y Dean Stanton, looking enough like him to be his twin. Haze n looked like half the stuntmen working today, the kind Ki m referred to as rough-trade good-looking, blue-collar guys wit h an easy slouch to their pose. Trees going to hell and they sat i n the house drinking beer.

Ben came to the porch steps and looked up at thes
e Grooms from Arkansas. He said, "I like to know what you'r e doing in my house."

The one, Hazen, raised his eyebrows saying, "Well, yo
u must be the movie star," sounding glad to see Ben, till h e said, "Come to check on us, huh?"

"I'm here to kick you out. This is my home."

Avery said, " 'Fore you start eating anybody's ass out, I'l
l show you the paper says this property's ourn for two years, stamped and signed by a noterary in the real estate business.

You go on get outta here."

Ben said, "You took advantage of an old man didn't kno
w what he was doing." And looked at Hazen. "You tell hi m you're gonna work shares, only I don't see nothing a-tall getting done. You got cows grazing on pecans falling off trees haven't even been sprayed.''

"I changed my mind about growing pe-cans," Avery said.

"Gonna test for oil instead. They was some pretty fair well
s here at one time and they's always some left."

"The wells were plugged," Ben said. "Cement poure
d down 'em."

"They's still oil. You heard of stripper wells?"

Ben said, "Look," keeping his tone flat, and it was hard
, "even if there's oil, and even if your lease stood up in court , you'd only have surface rights. Mineral rights are somethin g else."

"You mean to tell me," Avery said, "we hit a gusher yo
u don't want to go shares on it? Boy, you're ignorant you thin k you can make more growing pe-cans. You know what oil'
s selling for these days?"

No, and he didn't imagine they did either. It wasn't abou
t oil. They were having fun with him, but in a serious way, se e where it would lead.

Ben said, "You people are the Grooms, come here fro
m Arkansas?"

Avery, looking past Ben, said, "That's right, and so's thi
s one coming," sounding happy to see whoever it was.

Ben half turned. A pickup came across the open ground t
o pull up behind his SUV, the driver in a cowboy hat lookin g this way, then inched up to get his front bumper within a foo t of the SUV's rear end. This would have to be the one calle d Brother, walking toward them now. He had size but looke d slow, about twenty-five, a big kid in a cowboy hat and curltoed boots. The belt cinched around his jeans bore a rodeo winner's buckle, one he must've bought if he didn't steal it.

Looking at Ben he said, "Who's this?"

"The movie star," Hazen said.

"No shit."

"You tell by his shades," Hazen said, "and his beauty parlo
r hair."

"What's he play in movies," Brother said, "queers?"

"Ask him," Hazen said.

Now their big boy was here they were getting to it. Be
n told himself to walk away, and said to Avery, "Why don't w e have this heard in court?" But couldn't leave it at that. H
e said to Brother, "You take a swing at me I'll put you on th e ground, hard."

Brother stared and Avery said, "Now you got my boy looking sideways at you, like he might want to give you an asswhuppin'."

Ben walked toward Brother saying, "I'm tired, been driving all day. Why don't you whip my ass tomorrow?" Put his hand on Brother's shoulder as he passed and kept walking t o the SUV. Ben got in and laid his arm on the windowsill. H
e said to Brother, "You want to back your truck up a few feet?"

Brother folded his arms and gave Ben a stare that worke
d pretty well under the hat brim pointing this way. Brother said, "You can't get out, then you have to stay, huh? Get yo u ass-whuppin' right now."

Ben turned the key, went ahead a foot or so, revved, sai
d fuck it, and slammed his rear end into the pickup, wen t ahead, reversed and revved and hit the truck again. Be n slipped out of the space, put the gas pedal on the floor an d went into a power slide to head for the road through the trees.

He looked back to see Brother going to his truck.

Coming up on the old house Ben stopped at the side of Lydell's porch, the old man still sitting there.

"Lydell, don't you have a daughter lives in Chouteau?"

He said, "Lemme think, I believe Isabel's the one there."

"Go stay with her a while."

Ben turned onto the country road and held hi
s speed at thirty miles an hour with an eye on the rearview mirror. In less than half a minute he saw Brother's truck coming up on him fast, closing in at sixty or better. Ben waited til l the truck's hood and windshield filled his rearview, saw th e cowboy hat, Brother by himself in there, the big boy wantin g to handle this deal on his own. Ben mashed the gas pedal an d watched the truck lose ground like it was being sucked awa y from him. He shot past the road to town doing ninety an d held it there, horses in a field raising their heads at the tail o f dust rising, the truck behind him hidden as Ben got ready t o bring the game to Brother, see if he was any good. Approaching the next intersection he watched the speedometer ease down to forty-five, came to the crossroads and punched hi s left boot down on the parking brake--tires screaming as th e rear wheels locked--cranked the steering wheel a quarte r turn, released the brake and let his rear end swing around in a tight one-eighty to head back toward Brother. The fat ki d would see from under his cowboy hat a black shape comin g dead at him out of the dust and realize, the distance betwee n them closing at top speed, he had seconds to decide ho w much nerve he had.

Not enough. Brother bailed, swerved off the road to hi
s right, and Ben watched the truck in his mirror dive into th e ditch and wedge itself against the bank. Ben stopped an d backed up all the way to the truck. Brother, his hat gone , blood coming down his face, turned and looked this way a t Ben watching him. Ben shook his head at the dumb kid, pu t the SUV in gear and headed back to his property.