The Bridge

5

Allie said the dinner we ate was just like the food they make overseas in Europe. Virgil told her it tasted more like the food they make south of the border in Mexico. That incited a minor disagreement between the two of them that was working its way toward an argument when I interrupted.

“Something burning?” I said.

“Oh,” Allie said. “My pie.”

Allie got up from the dinner table and hurried into the kitchen. She opened the oven and waved at the escaping heat with a towel.

“Thank goodness, it’s fine,” Allie said. “Perfectly fine. The filling under the pecans just oozed out is all. It’ll be delicious.”

“Oh, hell, Allie,” Virgil said. “I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

“Me, neither,” I said.

“Oh, nonsense,” Allie said, as she placed the pie on the trivet between Virgil and me. “Doesn’t that look good and crispy?”

Allie fanned it a little with her towel.

“It does, Allie,” I said.

“You got a good scald on it,” Virgil said. “I’ll give you that.”

“Oh,” Allie said, returning to the kitchen. “I churned up some cream to go with it.”

She returned with the bowl of cream. She whipped the substance with a wooden spoon before putting the bowl on the table.

“I’m sorry, it was fluffier before,” Allie said. “It’ll be good, though, just spoon a little across the top.”

“Smells good,” I said.

Allie left the dining room and walked off down the hall.

I cut a piece of pie, put some cream on top, and slid the bowl over to Virgil.

Virgil cut a piece and put it on his plate when Allie returned to the dining room, putting on a silk bonnet.

“Would you be so kind as to clean up for me, Virgil?” Allie said, as she tied the bonnet under her chin.

“Where you going?” Virgil said.

“Well, I’m off to gather the ladies of our social and pay Mr. Beauchamp and company a proper welcoming visit.”

Virgil looked to me, then to Allie.

“You think that’s necessary?”

“I do,” Allie said. “It’s not every day Appaloosa has someone as renowned as Beauregard Beauchamp visit us. And, as the new spokesperson of the ladies’ social, I thought it would be kind to make certain we do not let this occasion of ceremony slip by like it’s just any ol’ day like yesterday or the day before. Everett can help you with the dishes. Can’t you, Everett?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Wonderful, thank you,” Allie said, and then leaned down, kissing Virgil on top of his head. “Maybe we can play some cards when I get back.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Might want to take your umbrella,” Virgil said.

After Allie left, Virgil pulled a cigar from his pocket and I took a bite of the pecan pie.

“Tell you what,” I said. “That’s good.”

Virgil looked me, then looked to the pie.

“Is,” I said.

Virgil slid the cigar back in his pocket and took a bite. He nodded and took another bite.

“Damn sure is.”

After we finished a second piece of pie, Virgil and I cleaned up the kitchen and went back out on the front porch with the bottle of Kentucky.

It was almost dark out now when we settled in with the whiskey. The storm clouds we had been watching previously were close to being upon us and a light cool breeze preceded the looming darkness. It was quiet out and not many people were about. We could hear the evening train on the other side of town. It let out one long blast of its whistle as it neared the station.

“Beauregard Beauchamp,” Virgil said, as he pulled the cigar from his pocket.

I looked to Virgil but didn’t say anything.

“He look familiar to you?” Virgil said.

“No,” I said. “Look familiar to you?”

“Something about him seemed kind of familiar.”

“Always something about everybody, isn’t there?”

“’Spect there is, Everett,” Virgil said, then bit the cigar tip and spit it over the porch rail. “’Spect there is.”

He fished a match from his pocket, dragged the tip across the grain on the porch post, and lit the cigar. He puffed on the cigar and got it going good.

“Allie sure seems to think he’s special,” Virgil said.

“Does.”

“Thinks he’s talented,” Virgil said.

“And renowned,” I said.

Virgil looked at me and discharged a sliver of tobacco from his lips with a spit.

“And glorious,” he said.

“That, too,” I said.