The Rake Read Online Free PDF Page B

supposed to say ‘in Italy and in France’? Like I had forgotten about France?” She was mildly annoyed, but glad to be diverted from the important business at hand. “I wasn’t set to come up, Reuben, with what happened everywhere in 1948. That might have been a big year in Mongolia, for all I know. Are you going to go on with this?”
    â€œYeah,” he said, pulling out to pass the big truck. “What about 1848?”
    â€œThat was the short unhappy reign of Louis XVIII, wasn’t it?”
    â€œI’ll give you that. Europe is your thing. Mine’s America.”
    â€œOkay, what happened in the good old USA in 1848? By the way, did you ever take a course with Professor Benning?”
    â€œNo. Why?”
    Henri’s face turned grave, her voice that of a fussy classroom lecturer. “He said he overheard two women talking in an airplane. One of them asked, ‘Why did we have to pay for Louisiana when we got the other states free?’”
    â€œWhat was the reason?” Reuben sounded genuinely perplexed.
    â€œThe other woman explained. She said those territories were owned by two sisters, Louise and Anna Wilmot. They agreed to give the land to the Union provided it was named after them. That was the Wilmot Proviso. But Winfield Scott refused to go along. That was the Dred Scott decision.”
    Henri laughed happily, as did Reuben. But she didn’t go on with the running badinage. She fell silent as they made their way through the rich farmlands. The fields were now brown, and there were patches of snow. Reuben had gotten used to her occasionally opting for silence. Finally he spoke. “That exit was our last chance to avoid Canada,” he teased. Reuben liked it when conversation ensued after a prod from him, as usually it did. But all he got from Henri now was a perfunctory acknowledgment—yes, Canada lay directly ahead. That was all she said.
    What Henrietta now wanted was just to get on with the trip. The oblique autumn sun made the hills with their leafless trees just a little forbidding. Reuben was quiet for five minutes. Then he turned on the radio. The news report told of two U.S. infantry regiments dispatched for reinforcement duty in Vietnam.
    Breaking the silence Henri said, “You take the next exit, in two miles, and then turn left.”
    â€œLeft it is. What would happen if I turned right? Bump into a Nixon rally?”
    She smiled, but said nothing.
    The border crossing was routine.
    â€œWhere are you headed? Winnipeg?” The Canadian officer leaned down, addressing Reuben.
    â€œActually, we’re going to Letellier. My girl—my lady friend was born in Letellier.”
    The guard peered over to view Henri. “Well, I’m sure, miss, they were sorry to see you go. Maybe this time you’ll decide to stay.” He drew back and waved them on.
    â€œKeep on this road,” Henrietta said. “It’s about ten miles.”
    He drove on more slowly and at a hilltop said, “That is some river, Henri. Some force of nature made it turn right around—” he squinted, looking out across the rich loamy fields, “every time it traveled a few hundred yards.”
    â€œYou’re right, the river is like a snake coiling perpetually.”
    â€œIt’s very pretty.”
    â€œIt’s very beautiful.”
    â€œYes,” he said. “Beautiful.”
    They drove a few more miles. “That”—she pointed to the huge structure they were passing—“is a grain elevator. They store the grain there until it’s picked up by the freight trains and taken off to our—to Canadian cities.”
    â€œHenri”—Reuben was amused—“you’re explaining grain elevators to a North Dakota boy?” Silence once again.
    When the road sign for Letellier came into view, Henri said,“Take that turn. I’ll tell you where to go when we get into town.”
    In