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"
"
Would
you
call
him
?
"
asked
Shadow
.
"
I
’
m
way
ahead
of
you
,
"
she
told
him
,
and
she
picked
up
the
phone
.
"
Hon
?
It
’
s
Mattie
.
You
get
over
here
this
minute
.
I
got
a
man
here
wants
to
buy
a
car
.
"
The
piece
of
shit
he
chose
was
a
1983
Chevy
Nova
,
which
he
bought
,
with
a
full
tank
of
gas
,
for
four
hundred
and
fifty
dollars
.
It
had
almost
a
quarter
of
a
million
miles
on
the
clock
,
and
smelled
faintly
of
bourbon
,
tobacco
,
and
more
strongly
of
something
that
reminded
Shadow
of
bananas
.
He
couldn
’
t
tell
what
color
it
was
,
under
the
dirt
and
the
snow
.
Still
,
of
all
the
vehicles
in
Mattie
’
s
brother
-
in
-
law
’
s
back
lot
,
it
was
the
only
one
that
looked
like
it
might
take
him
five
hundred
miles
.
The
deal
was
done
in
cash
,
and
Mattie
’
s
brother
-
in
-
law
never
asked
for
Shadow
’
s
name
or
social
security
number
or
for
anything
except
the
money
.
Shadow
drove
west
,
then
south
,
with
five
hundred
and
fifty
dollars
in
his
pocket
,
keeping
off
the
interstate
.
The
piece
of
shit
had
a
radio
,
but
nothing
happened
when
he
turned
it
on
.
A
sign
said
he
’
d
left
Wisconsin
and
was
now
in
Illinois
.
He
passed
a
strip
-
mining
works
,
huge
blue
arc
lights
burning
in
the
dim
midwinter
daylight
.
He
stopped
and
ate
lunch
at
a
place
called
Mom
’
s
,
catching
them
just
before
they
closed
for
the
afternoon
.
The
food
was
okay
.
Each
town
he
passed
through
had
an
extra
sign
up
beside
the
sign
telling
him
that
he
was
now
entering
Our
Town
(
pop
.
720
)
.
The
extra
sign
announced
that
the
town
’
s
Under
-
14s
team
was
the
third
runner
-
up
in
the
interstate
Hundred
-
Yard
Sprint
,
or
that
the
town
was
the
home
of
the
Illinois
Girls
’
Under
-
16s
Wrestling
semifinalist
.
He
drove
on
,
head
nodding
,
feeling
more
drained
and
exhausted
with
every
minute
that
passed
.
He
ran
a
stoplight
,
and
was
nearly
sideswiped
by
a
woman
in
a
Dodge
.
As
soon
as
he
got
out
into
open
country
he
pulled
off
onto
an
empty
tractor
path
on
the
side
of
the
road
,
and
he
parked
by
a
snow
-
spotted
stubbly
field
in
which
a
slow
procession
of
fat
black
wild
turkeys
walked
like
a
line
of
mourners
;
he
turned
off
the
engine
,
stretched
out
in
the
back
seat
,
and
fell
asleep
.
