He went to the hallway and looked up the stairs, but he could not hear any sounds up there. He heard noises outside: distant motors, the faraway chattering of children, a woman giggling on the porch across the street. But his own house was silent now. He went back to the window and looked out into the street. The truck was gone. The Williams boys had driven off somewhere. The two of them together.

This is how Berry-berry Williams handled an automobile, or in this case, a truck: he took all the quick speed he could get out of the first gear; then he shoved in the clutch and threw it into second, gunning the motor hard for all the power that was in it. In the city itself, he seldom had any use for the third position. The corners came too fast. He would slam on the brakes and start out again.

He drove this way for a few minutes and soon they were on a four-lane highway, headed south, downstate. He shifted into high gear and steered the little truck with just one hand on the wheel. Then he leaned to the right and opened the glove compartment and removed a small bottle of brandy. He whistled loud between his teeth and said, very clearly, separating the words:

“It is good to get out of that hell hole. Take that cap off for me, will you?”

Clinton took the bottle, removed the cap, and handed it back. Berry-berry took two short drinks from the bottle. With each swallow, he tightened the muscles of his throat as if the brandy had caused him pain. Then he handed it back to Clinton with a smile: “I needed that. Help yourself. You drink, don’t you?”

Clinton said, “Now and then. You know, I can . . .”

“Take it or leave it alone? Me too. That’s the way I am. I like the stuff, but I don’t have to have it. —She looks pretty good, a little older maybe. I was surprised.”

“Who?” Clinton said.

“Annabel. How old is she anyway? About fifty?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I have had it. That dose will last me for about another two years. Just curiosity, you know. That’s all I went back for. You’re the only one I wanted to see, and that’s the God’s truth. People say to me all the time, Don’t you miss your family? And I say, Not a bit, only my kid brother.”

“I missed you, too.”

“You know what I expected? I expected you to be gone. I thought you’d take off by now. I did.”

“I did for a while,” Clinton said, “but I had to come back ‘cause I got sick.”

“Yeah? —Where’d you go?”

“I’ll give you about a thousand guesses.”

“Go on, where?”

“Key Bonita,” Clinton said.

“Key what? No shit!”

“Yeah. I thought you might be around. And I was going to take off anyway, so I went down to Key Bonita. I didn’t care where I went.”