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Nort
had
been
laid
out
on
two
tables
in
the
center
of
the
room
.
His
boots
made
a
mystical
V
.
His
mouth
hung
open
in
a
slack
grin
,
although
someone
had
closed
his
eyes
and
put
slugs
on
them
.
His
hands
had
been
folded
on
his
chest
with
a
sprig
of
devil
-
grass
in
them
.
He
smelled
like
poison
.
The
man
in
black
pushed
back
his
hood
and
came
to
the
bar
.
Alice
watched
him
,
feeling
trepidation
mixed
with
the
familiar
want
that
hid
within
her
.
There
was
no
religious
symbol
on
him
,
although
that
meant
nothing
by
itself
.
"
Whiskey
,
"
he
said
.
His
voice
was
soft
and
pleasant
.
"
Good
whiskey
.
"
She
reached
under
the
counter
and
brought
out
a
bottle
of
Star
.
She
could
have
palmed
off
the
local
popskull
on
him
as
her
best
,
but
did
not
.
She
poured
,
and
the
man
in
black
watched
her
.
His
eyes
were
large
,
luminous
.
The
shadows
were
too
thick
to
determine
their
color
exactly
.
Her
need
intensified
.
The
hollering
and
whooping
went
on
behind
,
unabated
.
Sheb
,
the
worthless
gelding
,
was
playing
about
the
Christian
Soldiers
and
somebody
had
persuaded
Aunt
Mill
to
sing
.
Her
voice
,
warped
and
distorted
,
cut
through
the
babble
like
a
dull
ax
through
a
calf
’
s
brain
.
"
Hey
,
Allie
!
"
She
went
to
serve
,
resentful
of
the
stranger
’
s
silence
,
resentful
of
his
no
-
color
eyes
and
her
own
restless
groin
.
She
was
afraid
of
her
needs
.
They
were
capricious
and
beyond
her
control
.
They
might
be
the
signal
of
the
change
,
which
would
in
turn
signal
the
beginning
of
her
old
age
-
a
condition
which
in
Tull
was
usually
as
short
and
bitter
as
a
winter
sunset
.
She
drew
beer
until
the
keg
was
empty
,
then
broached
another
.
She
knew
better
than
to
ask
Sheb
,
he
would
come
willingly
enough
,
like
the
dog
he
was
,
and
would
either
chop
off
his
own
fingers
or
spume
beer
all
over
everything
.
The
stranger
’
s
eyes
were
on
her
as
she
went
about
it
;
she
could
feel
them
.
"
It
’
s
busy
,
"
he
said
when
she
returned
.
He
had
not
touched
his
drink
,
merely
rolled
it
between
his
palms
to
warm
it
.
"
Wake
,
"
she
said
.
