arrow straight with crossroads,
farm houses tucked in for the night.
highway sixty five skirts
the bouldered hills and citrus rows
the cotton and cattle, the melons.
the alkaline and sagebrush homes
of kit foxes and kangaroo rats
playing hide and seek under
the stars, ignoring hot rod coupes
and flatbed trucks, weary farmers
heading for cool sheets and a glass
of sweet tea before dozing off
to a radio play or perhaps the soothing
songs of the Sons of the Pioneers.
over the Kern River bridge,
down Union, east on California
to Cottonwood Avenue.
past the horsehead wells
and jukebox sweat of the shot-
and-a-beer-for-six-bits clubs
to the sand patch shack where
Loretta lies curled in the dark
breathing carefully. Coasting
in with the motor off, they sit
a moment, quietly. Ruthie says,
Stay here, I’ll go see. She won’t
be scared of me. She slips in
through the hinge sprung door.
hears a moan, Ruthie is that you?
She hurries to the bed where
Loretta rises slowly, swings
her legs over the edge.
You ok, Loretta?
I will be, hon. Gimme a sec.
She reaches for a gin flask
on the pine night stand.
Bobby do this? how bad?
Worse’n usual, the motherfucker.
I didn’t tell him where you went.
I woulda if I knew, I’m sorry, hon.
Don’t worry, Loretta. I didn’t
realize he would think you had
anything to do with it. If I’d
known…… -Don’ worry Ruthie.
You had to get out of here.
What the hell you doin’ back?
Coming to check on you.
Where’s Bobby?
He went to meet that Smith.
Said if he can’t find you, he’s
gonna have me pulling trains
under the Chester Avenue bridge.
You can’t stay here, then.
Get your stuff together.
We’re going up to Teviston.
Oh no. I ain’t gonna go back
in the fields, had enough
of that. I’m too old to bend
over all damn day. bendin’ over
for ten minutes is my style, now.
You’re getting too old for that
too, Loretta, time to find a new
line of work. Like what, hon?
All I ever did was this or cotton.
I don’t know Loretta, but if you
stay here, you’re gonna end
up dead. One way or another.
Bobby’ll use you til you drop.
I know, I know. think I don’t?
Course not. We’ll figure something out.
But right now, I mean right now,
we gotta get out of Cottonwood.
What d’you wanna bring? Be quick.
I don’t give a shit. Gimme five minutes.
Okay. Five minutes. I’m gonna
get mine too. Bring it out to the car.
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