Shout Her Lovely Name Read Online Free PDF Page B

her palm. It was good to rest. She was surprised by how very, very heavy her head had become. The mailman came into the bar and Milton excused himself, calling out a hello.
    “He’s a bastard.” Her father gestured with his chin toward the mailman. “A sanctimonious, one-drink-a-day bastard with a perfect lawn, the worst kind.” Teddy called out, “Drinking on my dime, Phil? Aren’t you still on the taxpayers’ clock?”
    “Nice to see you too, Teddy. Give my best to Sally.”
    Her father huffed. Ruby smoked. “You have something on everyone,” she said.
    “That’s because I pay attention. Just like you.”
    She watched in the mirror over the bar as her father plucked a crumb of tobacco from his tongue, then flicked it away. He rubbed his palms over the top of his thighs, stole glances at the men, and let loose a loud sigh, as if drinking and noticing was hard labor. And she supposed it was when a person paid attention to get even, to discover just the right detail to hold against another person. Teddy felt he needed to get a leg up on the world. Ruby paid attention to differentiate herself from her father and her mother. Paying attention would set her free. A long ash balanced on the end of her cigarette. Milton returned, offering a tuna-can ashtray. “So, what’d I miss?”
    “I pledged a sorority.”
    Her father widened his eyes. “Sorority?”
    “What do you all do?” Milton asked.
    “We meet. The fraternity next door keeps a chicken they can hypnotize.” She crossed her legs and twirled her finger in her empty shot glass. “She’s a pet and rides around on John Douglas’s shoulder. He calls her Meredith. Feeds her Bacardi rum at parties.”
    “Who is this John Douglas?”
    “A friend, Daddy. Meredith’s got steel-blue feathers on her neck and one beady eye that gets real mean-looking when she drinks. She’s their mascot. A girl I know wears a feather in her ponytail.” Without turning her head, she measured her father’s interest. He drummed his fingers on the bar expectantly, his eyes sparkled, and she knew to draw the story out slow, just the way he did with his stories.
    “What happened to the other eye?”
    “Shriveled up like a raisin.”
    “I send you off to college so you can get one-red-hen drunk?” He dropped his hand onto her shoulder, licked his lips, and laughed loud. “What comes after the red hen?”
    “Two-cute-ducks. Three-brown-bears. John Douglas can never make it through that game.” She sucked a full drag off her cigarette and laughed along with him. Laughed and coughed at the same time. “I-shit-six-sheets,” she sputtered out between coughs. “By nine, he’s all messed up”—her father slapped her on the back—“nine-running-cunts, he says. Like it’s some amazing thing he’s just got to see.”
    “Whoa.” Milton held his hands up as if he were stopping traffic.
    Ruby stubbed out her cigarette. She looked at Milton through watering eyes. “People talk like that all the time.”
    “Charming,” her father said. “What about Meredith?”
    “Once she’s drunk, John Douglas draws a chalk line on the floor and holds her good eye down to it. He holds her head about an inch above the line and everybody watches.” Ruby paused. “She stays there for hours, just staring at the white line.”
    “Chickens are mighty stupid animals.” Milton chuckled.
    “Poor stupid bird,” her father mocked.
    “We put a circle of empty Coke bottles around so no one steps on her.” She looked from one man to the other, her cheeks flushed with alcohol and enthusiasm. “You ought to get one for entertainment here. Draw a chalk line down the center of the bar.”
    “Remember your mother’s chicken?” It had been a long time since Ruby thought about Albertina. “That chicken just wandered into the yard and Sally built it a little pen,” Teddy was telling Milton. “She drew more pictures of that damn bird. Studies, she called them.”
    “Sally is a talented