Waveland Read Online Free PDF Page A

glitter and smoke. Outside, he and Greta stood under the overhang for a minute. It was chilly, rainy, the first front of the season coming through. They paused a second, then stepped out into the parking lot.

4
    Greta had won the fifty-two-inch rear-projection Sony television in a church raffle, a gift to the church from one of the casinos. The casinos, just as you might imagine, were like that, always donating to this or that charity, always being good citizens, always going the extra mile for the local firemen, or police, or PTA. It didn't matter much what your organization was, if you needed a little helping hand, the casinos were always ready. They went out of their way to contribute to the well-being of the community. The casinos were real team players when it came to participating in community affairs, models of selfless commitment to a better life for all.
    When Vaughn first saw this TV, back in the summer, he'd said, “I always wanted one of these, but it cost too much and the quality of the screen isn't that good and the image is fuzzy and it's an ugly piece of furniture that takes up too much room.It's kind of an eyesore. I guess that's why most people avoid 'em.” This was the first night he stayed at Greta's place.
    “Why, thanks very much,” Greta said, making a curious face.
    “That's not exactly what I meant,” he said.
    “I was a fool to accept it,” she said.
    “C'mon, that's not right,” he said. “I just meant that—”
    “Yeah, yeah,” she'd said. “Okay. I accept your apology.”
    It was their first big night and Vaughn wasn't 100 percent under control. He tried to repair this gaffe by explaining about rear-projection television, and about DLP rear projection compared to CRT rear projection, and about direct-view CRTs, and the business about scanning, about 1080i and 1080p, and how the picture is composed of alternating lines that are difficult to get in register. After a while he could see that wasn't working.
    “I really always wanted one,” he said finally.
    “He scores!” she said, offering up a high-five.
    So they turned the set off and went about their business. He read a book. She regarded him with great curiosity, and then, after a suitable period of observation, said, “What is that strange object you're playing with?”
    “Got it,” he said. And they went to bed.
    The days that followed went more smoothly. Vaughn accepted the television and the television accepted Vaughn.
    The night they went to dinner with Gail, however, they returned from the casino restaurant and things weren't going so well. They weren't talking to each other. Eddie was in the house, in the living room, sprawled on the couch, makinghimself at home, snacking, and watching something that looked like ultimate cage fighting on the big screen.
    “Vaughn is upset about his wife,” Greta said.
    “Yeah?” Eddie said. He didn't take his eyes off the TV.
    “She had some guy's name tattooed on her neck,” she said.
    “Wasn't a tattoo,” Vaughn said. “Was an ink thing, like a drawing.”
    “Even worse,” she said. “What kind of guy draws his name on some woman's neck?”
    “Young guy,” Eddie said, wincing as one fighter on television kneed the other guy repeatedly in the groin. “This is old-time ultimate fighting. They don't let 'em do that anymore.”
    It surprised Vaughn how pissed he was about Gail. Pissed and sickened—she was a grown woman, well past the age where you get written on. He tried to hide the anger, but Greta was all over it and she wasn't pleased. They'd ridden in silence from the casino, watching the wipers slog back and forth across the windshield.
    “What're you doing in here anyway?” he said to Eddie. “Don't you have a TV out in the apartment?”
    “Tiny screen,” Eddie said. “Barely see it. These guys would be the size of squirrels on it. The size of nuts. Couldn't see the action. It's part of my rental agreement.”
    Vaughn turned to Greta.
    “What?” she said.