A Lesson Before Dying Read Online Free PDF Page A

full of gold teeth, solid gold as well as gold crowned. She also wore perfume that was strong enough to keep you a good distance away from her. I figured that’s where most of their money went, on those gold teeth, that perfume, and payment on the new white Cadillac that Joe had parked before the door. But they were good people, both of them. When I was broke, I could always get a meal and pay later, and the same went for the bar.
    I talked with Thelma awhile after I finished eating, then I paid her and went back to the other side.
    â€œUsual?” Claiborne asked me. He knew what I drank, but he would always ask.
    I nodded.
    â€œWhat you doing here on Monday?” he asked, while pouring me a brandy.
    â€œI needed a drink,” I said.
    â€œSure,” he said.
    He poured a glass of ice water and set it on the bar beside the brandy.
    â€œI think I know now,” he said.
    Car lights had just flashed upon the front of the club, and I could hear the tires on the crushed seashells just right of the door, and sure enough it was Vivian, and the men at the bar looked around at her when she came in. She was quite tall, five seven, five eight, and she wore a green wool sweater and a green and brown plaid skirt, and both fit her very well. She had soft light brown skin and high cheekbones and greenish-brown eyes, and her nostrils and lips showed some thickness, but not much. Her hair was long and black, and she kept it twisted into a bun and pinned at the back of her head. Vivian Baptiste was a beautiful woman, and she knew it; but she didn’t flaunt it, it was just there. She came up to me, and a couple of the other men at the bar nodded and spoke to her. One tipped his hat and called her Miss Lady.
    â€œYou made it,” I said.
    â€œI got Dora.”
    â€œUsual?” Claiborne asked her.
    She nodded toward my drink.
    â€œShirley can bring it to your table,” Claiborne said.
    â€œIt won’t tire her out, I hope.”
    Claiborne grunted at me.
    It was a slow night. The few people at the bar were holding on to their glasses and not buying any more. Shirley, the waitress, was sitting on a barstool at the far end, and she had not moved once since I had been there. Vivian and I went to a table far over into the corner, where we could be alone.
    â€œI’m glad you came,” I said, and kissed her.
    Shirley brought the drinks and set them before us on paper napkins. Before leaving, she looked at me out of the corner of her eye to let me know she didn’t like my remark at the bar.
    Vivian and I touched glasses and drank.
    â€œWhat is the matter, Grant?” she asked.
    â€œI just had to see you.”
    â€œIs something the matter?”
    â€œWhen was the last time I told you I loved you?”
    â€œA second ago.”
    â€œI should say it more often,” I said.
    â€œWhat is the matter, Grant?” she asked me again.
    â€œYou want to leave from here tonight?” I asked her. “You want to go home and pack your clothes and get the children and leave from here tonight?”
    She looked at me as though she was trying to figure out whether I was serious or not.
    â€œNo,” she said.
    â€œWhy not?” I asked her.
    â€œBecause the whole thing is just too crazy,” she said.
    â€œPeople do it all the time. Just pack up and leave.”
    â€œSome people can, but we can’t,” she said. “We’re teachers, and we have a commitment.”
    â€œYou hit the nail on the head there, lady—commitment. Commitment to what—to live and die in this hellhole, when we can leave and live like other people?”
    â€œHow much have you had to drink, Grant?”
    â€œA whole fucking barrel of commitment,” I said, and raised my glass.
    â€œDo you want me to leave, Grant?” she asked. “You know I don’t like it when you talk like that.”
    â€œNo, I don’t want you to leave. Please don’t leave me,” I