The Devil You Know Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mama sat beside him, picking at a piece of toast and wearing the same clothes she’d had on yesterday.
    â€œGood morning, sweetheart,” said Grandma. “Are you ready for some breakfast?”
    Ginny nodded and her mother regarded her with a bleary kindness.
    â€œHey, baby,” she rasped. “Did you have a good sleep?”
    â€œShe got more than you did, I’m sure,” said Grandma, cracking an egg into the sizzling pan.
    Debby scrunched her face behind her mother’s back and patted the chair beside her. “The guys next door have all gone hunting today,” she told Ginny.
    â€œMaybe you’ll be able to spend some time with your little girl, then,” said Grandma.
    She saw Grandpa give her a funny look.
    â€œCourse we will,” said Debby, patting Ginny’s hand. “Maybe we can go for a walk later or something.”
    After breakfast, Mama sat in front of the TV and plucked her eyebrows and watched makeover shows and fell asleep.
    Ginny was peeling a turnip on the front porch for Grandma late that afternoon when Ed’s truck roared into the yard. The men piled out in their hunting gear, high-fiving each other and talking in loud excited voices. Ed went around to the back, opened the tailgate and pulled a large doe to the edge of the truck bed headfirst. Her soft brown body was splayed across a camo-printed tarp. The men gathered closer, and Ginny could see through the spaces between their bodies to the doe’s empty eyes, the line of blackened blood that ran down the side of her mouth, the dark slit in her belly where she’d been gutted in the field. Debby stepped out on the porch and walked over to Ed. Ginny could see that she had put on lipstick and brushed her hair.
    â€œDoe’s good eatin’,” Ed said, slapping the deer’s side. “Let’s get ’er strung up and dressed.” He saw Debby and put his arm around her. Mama stood on her tippytoes and kissed Ed’s thick neck. “I’ll string you up next!” he shouted. “C’mere, Debby Dunn Dallas, and give me some of that,” he said, smacking her wide denim-clad backside. She leapt up and scampered away, giggling. Ed turned and saw Ginny standing on the porch. He waved at her. “Wanna come see your Thanksgiving dinner?” he said. “We’re having Bambi!” He laughed and Mama punched his arm and Ginny picked up her turnip and went inside.
    Most of the deer meat would improve with aging, but the tougher cuts needed to be cooked the next day. Grandma had offered to make it into a stew alongside the Thanksgiving dinner, and Debby invited Ed to join them. The big silver stew pot bubbled away on the stove for most of the afternoon, filling the cabin with the smell of venison. Ginny made a point of covering her nose and mouth every time someone looked at her.
    Ed and Debby had been drinking beer on the back porch since before lunch, half-talking, half-shouting. Ginny was setting the table when they finally came in, the screen door thwacking in the frame. Ed stood over the stove and breathed in the steam from the pot. He asked Ginny’s mother about the seasoning: did it need more salt, could it use some pepper? Debby pulled up a chair beside Ginny and flashed her a wobbly grin. Her hair hung low over her red eyes.
    â€œGoddamn!” Ed said. “That’s hot!” He tossed the wooden spoon on the counter and fanned his mouth with his hands like a cartoon bear. He lumbered to the table and took a long pull from Ginny’s can of orange soda. As he swished it around in his mouth, he ruffled her hair with a heavy palm. He swallowed and belched.
    â€œLooking forward to your supper tonight, I bet? Stew’s gonna be the best dinner you ever had,” he said, setting down the can.
    Ginny looked at the soda with disgust. “It will not. That deer probably had little babies and you killed their mother and that’s a