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. And you? she said, turning her head toward him. You seem to be more themaster-plan type. My master plan didn t work out, he said. So I guess I m with you.One dayat a time. When the time came to leave he stood at the front door holding her. I cancome next weekend, he said. Hush now, she said. Don t talk.Kiss me and go and don t look back. He did look back, though, from the porch steps, to see her touch her lips withthe tips of her ngers and smile before she closed the door.With a churning in his stomach, he saw Ruth s car in the driveway of the houseon Woodrow Street.He d been thinking that he might tell her he wanted a divorce.With a fewhours to work it through and prepare himself, he thought he might nd theway.First he needed to be away from Mercy, so that his head would stopspinning.Now he felt only panic.Despite the shower, he smelled of Mercy.The alibishe d prepared seemed hopelessly futile.Ruth was in the kitchen.She had taken the fried chicken and xings out andset them on the counter.She was on the verge of tears. You didn t even eatthe food I cooked for you. I m sorry, honey, I was working all weekend.I ve only been home long enoughto sleep. He wondered if she d already noticed that the bed was untouched. There s so little you let me do for you anymore.Now you don t want mycooking.You make me feel useless! Sex, he nearly said.Physical contact.Intimacy.These were the things shecould have given him.He didn t dare say the words, even in anger.What if shetook him up on it? I m hungry now, he said.He got down a plate and put a cold drumstick on itand spooned up some slaw.In fact he was starving.They hadn t found time toeat more than a few cold cuts and some eggs all weekend. Wait, she said, suddenly cheerful again. Let me heat it up for you.You gotake a shower and change clothes.You smell! "lewis shiner166On Monday morning he drove straight to the job site, ready to play it by earwith Howard.He arrived to nd a vacant lot.Mitch didn t come into work until ten.Robert followed him into his o ce andclosed the door. What happened to the Dreamland Shoeshine Shop? I sent a crew out Saturday to take it down. While nobody was looking. That s right. I m surprised you didn t do it at midnight. I thought about it. And you didn t trust me to do it? I tried calling you on Saturday morning.Very early on Saturday morning. Mitch grinned from his chair, hands behind his head. You look di erent thismorning, Bobby.More relaxed, somehow. Robert walked away.Sitting at the drafting table he thought, This is how lives go out of control.Secrets, lies, utter disregard for the niceties of society.He couldn t wait for the weekend to see Mercy again.On Tuesday he called herat work, then phoned Ruth to tell her he would be late.He drove straight toBeamon Street at ve o clock and she met him at the door, alreadyhalf-undressed.In October, Mercy took him to meet her mother.Page 129 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlShe lived in Bentonville, at the southern edge of Johnston County, miles15from the Bynum farm as the mockingbird ew, twice that distance by car.Bentonville was the scene of the biggest Civil War battle in North Carolina,as the Confederacy mounted one nal e ort to stop Sherman s army on itsmarch north from Georgia.Thickets of historical markers grew on every corner, and it seemed thatCivil War tourism was the town s major industry. Didn t it make you crazy togrow up here, with all these Confederate monuments all over the place? Robert asked her.They d taken his Chevelle, and she was tucked into his rightshoulder. No.All I had to do was remember what happened here.The Confederates gottheir asses kicked. In the mountains where Robert grew up, the Civil War was not the issue that itstill was in the lowlands. Ruth just calls it the War, he said.As alwayswhen he brought up Ruth s name, he felt awkward and wished he hadn t done it. As if Hitler and the Kaiser and Vietnam and all those other wars aren t evenworth discussing. Behind Mercy s even tone he could feel her discomfort as well. And theBlack & White167South was just misunderstood, I m sure.It wasn t about slavery, it was abouteconomics, right? Like a cotton and tobacco economy could sustain itself forve minutes without slaves. It s one of the many things we don t talk about. He hated the resignation inhis own voice. Listen, he said. I think I m going to drive up there today. To the farm? I have to tell her.Maybe if I do it there, with her family around and every-thing, it ll be easier. Are you sure that s a good idea? They might lynch you. I can t wait any longer.I have to do something. Turn here, she said.Her mother s house was on the far side of town, hidden in live oaks and highgrass.The wood-frame structure was covered in orange and black asphaltshingles, the kind of house that Robert had passed a thousand times on ruralroads and associated with a desperate poverty impossibly distant from his ownlife.All his attempts to prepare himself didn t prevent the shock.This iswhat it means, he thought.If you re black in the southern US, this kind ofhouse is somewhere in your family.Mercy s mother was in her fties.She d had Mercy late in life compared tomany of the girls of her generation.She d never been married, never had asteady man, never, according to Mercy, showed much desire for the opposite sexor had regrets about the lack. Something, Mercy said, I did not inheritfrom her. Her mother must have been watching for them, because she came out the frontdoor before Robert nished parking in the rutted dirt driveway.She was thinand powerful, with shiny, de ned muscle groups in her arms.She wore khakislacks, a sleeveless blouse, and a white kerchief around her head.Mercy had told the truth about her face.It was beautiful, a dark, linedversion of Mercy s.She took Robert s hand and smiled and said, Come inside. The house had few windows and was dark even in the bright autumn sunshine.Oillamps stood on the tables, and Robert realized with a mild shock that therewas no electricity.The room had an earthy, musky scent, faint and notunpleasant. Sit down, sit down, she said. I ll bring some lemonade. Instead Robert was drawn to an altar in the corner.There he found images ofthe Virgin, from Byzantine to cloyingly sentimental, black and white andPage 130 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcolor, torn from books and pamphlets and magazines
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