Montana 1948 Read Online Free PDF Page B

give me a glass of water.”
    My father persisted. “Ask Pop. He still drinks Ole Norgaard’s beer.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Frank said. “It’s great beer. It’s the world’s greatest goddamn beer. But I’ll drink Schlitz, if it’s okay with you.
    My father nodded in my direction. “Not in front of the boy.” That was one of my father’s rules: no one was supposed to swear in front of my mother or me.
    Uncle Frank picked up his bag. “Okay, Wes. I’ll tell you what. Let me see the patient first and then I’ll drink a bottle of Ole’s beer with you. Maybe I’ll drink two.”
    Just then my mother came out of Marie’s room. “She’s in here, Frank.”
    â€œHello, Gail. How is the patient?”
    â€œShe’s awake. Her temperature might be down a bit.”
    Frank went in and shut the door behind him. Within a minute we heard Marie shouting, “Mrs.! Mrs.!”
    My mother looked quizzically at my father. He shrugged his shoulders. Marie screamed again. “No! Mrs.!”
    This time my mother went to the door and knocked. “Frank? Is everything okay?”
    My uncle opened the door. “She says she wants you in
here, Gail.” He shook his head in disgust. “Come on in. I don’t give a damn.”
    This time the door closed and the room remained silent.
    â€œDavid,” my father said to me. “Why don’t we go out on the porch while the medical profession does its work.”
    Our screened-in porch faced the courthouse across the street. When I was younger I used to go out there just before five o’clock on all but the coldest days to watch for my parents.
    My father put his bottle of beer down on the table next to the rocking chair. I didn’t sit down; I wanted to be able to maneuver myself into the best position to hear anything coming from Marie’s room. I didn’t have to wait long. I soon heard—muffled but unmistakable—Marie shout another no.
    I glanced at my father but he was staring at the courthouse.
    Then two more no’s in quick-shouted succession.
    My father pointed at one of the large elm trees in our front yard. “Look at that,” he said. “August, and we’ve got leaves coming down already.” He heard her. I knew he did.
    Before long Uncle Frank came out to the porch. He put down his bag and stared around the room as if he had never been there before. “Nice and cool out here,” he said, tugging at his white shirt the way men do when their clothes are sticking to them from perspiration. “Maybe I should put up one of these.”
    â€œFaces east,” my father said. “That’s the key.”
    â€œI’ll drink that beer now.”

    My father jumped up immediately.
    Uncle Frank lowered his head and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and worked his fingers back and forth as if he were trying to straighten his nose. I heard the smack of the refrigerator door and the clink of bottles. I wanted my father to hurry. After what had just happened with Marie I didn’t want to be alone with Uncle Frank.
    Without opening his eyes Frank asked, “You playing any ball this summer, David?”
    I was reluctant to answer. My uncle Frank had been a local baseball star, even playing some semipro ball during the summers when he was in college and medical school. I, on the other hand, had been such an inept ball player that I had all but given it up. But since Frank and Gloria had no children I always felt some pressure to please them, to be like the son they didn’t have. I finally said, “I’ve been doing a lot of fishing.”
    â€œCatching anything?”
    â€œCrappies and bluegill and perch out at the lake. Some trout at the river.”
    â€œAny size to the trout?” He finally looked up at me.
    â€œNot really. Nine inches. Maybe a couple twelve-inchers.”
    â€œWell,