He was passing a small cafe when something about a figure within stopped him. He stepped back and peered through the glass. At a booth in the little lunchroom was Reese. He was buttering up large chunks of cornbread. Before him sat a platter of steak and gravy with mashed potatoes and beans. A waitress shuffled down the corridor toward him with a tall mug of coffee. Reese looked up to say some pleasantry. His eyes wandered from her to the scowling face at the window and he gave a sort of little jump in his seat and then grinned and waved.
Suttree threw back the door and went down the aisle.
Hey Sut. Where the hell did you get to? I hunted everwhere for you.
Sure you did. Where did you get the money? I thought you were broke.
Set down, set down. Honey? He raised a hand. He pointed at Suttree’s head. Bring him what he wants. Boy, I’m glad I found you. Here, tell her what you want.
I dont want a goddamned thing. Listen.
They aint no need to cuss about it, the waitress said.
Suttree ignored her. He leaned to Reese who was loading his jaw with a forkful of steak. You’re driving me crazy, he said.
Honey, bring him a cup of coffee.
I dont want a cupping fuck of coffee. Look Reese …
Reese lowered his head and gave Suttree a queer clown’s wink and nod. Sold em, he whispered. Looky here.
Look at what?
Down here. Looky here.
Suttree had to lean back and look under the table where this grinning fool was holding pinched in his hand so just the corner showed a twenty dollar bill.
What the hell are you hiding it for? Is it counterfeit?
Shhh. Hell no son, it’s good as gold.
Who’d you hit in the head?
Old buddy, we goin to take this to the tong games and come off with some real money.
We better get our ass down to the bus station is what we better do.
Honey, bring him a cup of coffee.
He said he didnt want none.
Suttree slumped back in the booth.
Bring him some, said Reese, waving a piece of cornbread. He’ll drink it.
They stood in the street under the small lamps. A deathly quiet prevailed over the town.
I wisht it wasnt summer and we could go to the cockfights, Reese said. He sucked his teeth and looked up and down the street. Got to find us a goddamned taxi. He patted his little paunch and belched and squinted about.
Let me have a nickel and I’ll go in and call one.
Reese doled the coin easily. Suttree wore a look of dry patience. He went in and called the taxi.
When it arrived Reese opened the front door and hopped in and was whispering loudly to the driver. Suttree climbed in the back and shut the door.
Let me just take you fellers on up to the Green Room, the driver was saying. You can get anything you want up there.
What do you say, Sut?
Suttree looked at the back of Reese’s head and then he just looked out the window.
Course you can go anywhere you want, said the driver.
Daggone right you can, said Reese. When ye got the money to do it with. He turned and favored Suttree with a sleazy grin.
What kind of whiskey you boys want? You want bonded or some real good moonshine?
Is it real good sure enough?
Bonded, said Suttree from the back.
They were going by narrow back streets in the small town suppertime dark, by curtained windowlights where families sat gathered. Suttree rolled down the window and breathed the air all full of blossoms.
The driver took them up a gravel drive to the back of an old house. A yellow bulb hung burning from the naked night above them. The driver got out and a man came from the door and the two of them went across the yard and behind a garage. When they came back the driver was holding a pint of whiskey down by the side of his leg.
He got in and palmed the whiskey to Reese. Reese held it to the light and studied the label professionally as he unscrewed the cap. They went back down the driveway with Reese’s head thrown back and the bottom of the bottle standing straight up.
Get ye a drink, he wheezed, poking the bottle over the seat at Suttree.
Suttree drank and handed it back.
Reese held the bottle up and eyed it and held it under the driver’s chin. Get ye a drink old buddy, he said.
The driver said he didnt drink on duty.
They drove out through the small streets and struck the highway, Reese and Suttree passing the bottle back and forth and Reese giving the driver a history of himself no part of which was even vaguely true.
Say you all never been to the Green Room? said the driver.
We aint been up here in a long time, said Reese.
They got some little old gals up here will do anything. They’d as soon suck a peter as look at ye.
Reese was elbowing the dark of the cab behind him vigorously. You hear that, Sut? he said.
They went out the highway several miles and turned onto a side-road that had one time been the highway. At the top of the hill stood a squat cinderblock building with neon piping along the roof. The windows were painted black and one of them was broken and fixed back with blocks of wood stovebolted through the holes. There was an iron pole in the drive with a beersign hung from the crosstrees and perhaps half a hundred cars parked in the gravel. The cabdriver switched on the domelight and looked at Reese.