Too Far Gone

95

Grub watched the excitement on the dock through the store’s window because he didn’t want Leland to see him and think he was gloating. He was sure that Leland would be back, because he was too mean not to. Grub liked pissing him off, because it was such good sport that he couldn’t help it, but there wasn’t any future in pressing your luck too far when it came to old Leland.

Grub heard one of the deputies saying that a boat had gotten burned up and they could use the smoke to get a fix on the location. He heard one of them telling the fat deputy that Leland had killed the deputy that had gone out with the other cops and that he’d shot up two of the cops that came from New Orleans to arrest him. They also said Leland had killed two missing game and fish officers. Like that was a surprise. They were lucky they’d shot Leland before he’d killed all of them.

Grub waited until the TV people and the cops were about done loading up and the deputies had pulled the first of the boat trailers down to get their boats. They’d driven the amphibian up onto a flatbed eighteen-wheeler, so in a while they’d be gone and the dock would be back to normal. One good thing was that the cops had filled up all their boats with gas, and Moody was happy about that, plus on account of all the chips, sandwiches, and cold drinks he’d sold them. None of them had tipped Grub, because cops and TV people were all a bunch of stuck-up idiots. He decided that he wouldn’t ever again watch their TV shows or talk to cops if he could help it. They were all dick-brain shit-heels anyway.

Grub walked slowly to his bus and climbed inside, slamming the door behind him.

It was funny how that shot-up man in Leland’s boat had hung on to his briefcase when there weren’t nothing in it but a bunch of ruined paper. Grub had taken some of it, and now he opened his footlocker and took out the stack to look at it. With the bullet holes in them, he couldn’t even use them to draw on, but the paper felt nice to his fingers and the writing on it stuck out so you could sort of feel the words.

Grub took one of the big papers and held it up to the window and looked at the way the light went through it and showed a design that appeared to be stuck inside the piece of paper. He studied the edges for a seam, but there weren’t any, so he couldn’t figure out how they got the picture and words inside a skinny piece of paper. He didn’t know what the words said or what they could be for.

Grub knew what they’d be good for after he got tired of looking at them. Rolled up and set afire with a match, they’d reach deep enough in the heater to light it.