Night Swimmers Read Online Free PDF Page B

saying, “I’m going to act so intelligent you won’t even believe it’s me.”
    “If you act intelligent at all, I won’t believe it’s you. Now keep up.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll keep up. Look how fast I’m walking, Johnny.” He ran down the steps.
    Retta sighed. On the television a woman had just won a fur coat and a trip to Mexico and she was jumping up and down in the enormous coat.
    Suddenly Retta got to her feet. She turned off the TV and walked to the door. Her brothers were at the end of the block, turning the corner. Then they moved out of sight.
    Retta went out on the porch. She went down the steps slowly, idly, as if she weren’t going anywhere important. But at the bottom of the steps she turned and started down the hill after her brothers.
    She paused at the corner. Her brothers were crossing the street. Slowly, keeping a long distance between them, Retta followed.

S HORTY ANDERSON WAS SITTING in his corner of the living room with one leg slung over the arm of the chair. He had gotten up after Retta and the boys left, and he was now working out a new song on his guitar. His foot swung with the rhythm.
    Ideas for songs were coming faster these days than he could write them down. This one, he hoped, would be the follow-up song for “You’re Fifty Pounds Too Much Woman for Me.” The title of this one was “You Used to Be Too Much Woman, but Now You Ain’t Enough.”
    He was hunched over his guitar, strumming a chord, singing. “You used to be too much woman. You filled up lots of spaces.”
    He paused, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He strummed the chord again. “And now you lost your fifty pounds, but you lost it in all the wrong pla-a-a-ces.”
    He broke off as Retta came into the house. He gave her his not-now-I’m-composing-a-song look. She stood in the doorway watching him. Her face was as red as if she had gotten too much sun. She was breathing hard.
    Shorty began to sing the chorus, playing to Retta as if she were an audience.
    “Your hair’s got thin, but your head’s still thick.
    Your feet stayed big, but your legs are candlewicks.
    Your hips ain’t round, and your ears weigh fourteen pounds.
    Oh, you’re not the right woman for meeeeee.”
    He grinned at Retta. She pulled herself away from the doorway and started for the kitchen.
    “How you like it?” Shorty called after her.
    “Fine.”
    “Want to hear the second verse?”
    No answer.
    Undaunted, Shorty began to sing.
    “Your teeth thinned down, but your lips swelled out.
    Your nose got fat and your chin’s a waterspout.
    Your cheeks they flap, and your eyelids overlap.
    Oh, you’re not the right woman for meeeeee.”
    Retta sat down at the table. The kitchen was big and old. The cabinets had old-timey glass doors that showed the unmatched dishes. The table was covered with oilcloth in which Roy had poked holes with his fork.
    In the living room Shorty Anderson started over. He liked the verses, but he wasn’t satisfied with the opening.
    “You used to be too much woman,” he sang. He paused, waiting for an inspiration. When none came, he started over. “You used to be too much woooooo-man …”
    Johnny came into the kitchen by the back door, and Retta glanced up. Johnny was walking in his new, important way. His hands were in his pockets. He made a point of not looking at Retta.
    Behind him Roy was babbling about the afternoon. “I didn’t really believe you about the airplane. I’m not kidding. I didn’t really believe it was true!” His face, red with heat and joy, shone in the sunlight from the window.
    Roy was happily amazed because, as of late, his world had been drying up like a raisin.
    “I didn’t believe it was true,” Roy told the cabinets, the refrigerator.
    Once Roy had believed anything was possible. For example, he had had high hopes of digging to China. He had envisioned going down through layers of earth and popping up in front of startled Chinese. He had drawn a picture of the event in