How to Get Along with Women Read Free

doesn’t have a plan for after Manitoulin and Tim knows it. She doesn’t say anything back. She leans out and looks to see if he’s watching her, the tip of her sunglasses in the side mirror. He is. Her shoulders square and sharp. There’s a line to her jaw that’s like Mary. She rubs the plastic bracelet up and down her arm.
    Empty road behind them and nobody in front either. She checks to make sure he’s still looking. In the sky it’s sun and no clouds, the scrub on the roadside burnt back flat.
    Weather moves fast the further north you go, Tim says.
    Someone laid an inukshuk out on the high median and it’s the only thing there.
    Zelda reaches down and unclips her seatbelt. The mechanism clicks and then she’s up and over the gear shift and straddling him, her back against the steering wheel, his driving arm pinned under her body. The truck swings sharp across the median and then back toward the gravel shoulder.
    Tim’s foot hard on the brake.
    Jesus Fuck Jesus!
    His shoulder hits the door and Zelda goes out onto the road. He sits there a moment with his door wide open then kills the engine. Gets out and leans his hands on his knees.
    He spits once.
    Zelda pulls herself up, looks down hard at the painted yellow line, and walks toward him. She’s got a sore shoulder and for a moment she stops and rubs it with one hand, but she can walk.
    What the fuck! You threw me out in the ROAD!
    The truck with two wheels on the shoulder. When Tim straightens up she draws back both arms and pushes hard against his chest and he takes a step or two backward.
    What was that shit? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
    If she was a boy he’d knock her down.
    Zelda says, What if a fucking car had been behind us?
    He looks behind them. Nothing on the road.
    I don’t need your help, she says.
    When they get back in the truck Tim leans over and jams the tongue of Zelda’s seatbelt hard into the buckle.
    Ow, she says. She throws her leg up on the dash and taps with the toe of her boot on the windshield. He puts on the signal and pulls out. When they’ve gone fifteen miles or so, the Fifth Wheel comes up on the right and he puts the signal back on again.
    I’m taking a piss, Tim says.
    I’m coming, Zelda says. The two of them walk into the store to get the bathroom key. Zelda picks up a pack of Sesame Snaps.
    I’m not buying you fucking candy.
    You gotta buy something or they won’t give you the key.
    Tim smacks the package on the counter and digs around in his pocket for quarters. Zelda leans over and grabs the key to the men’s. They go straight to the back of the store and Zelda opens up the door and holds it for Tim and then follows him through. He unzips. Zelda watches him peeing.
    What’d you do that for? Tim says.
    What.
    Jump on me in the truck. He shakes off and zips up.
    I love you Tim.
    Fuck you Zelda.
    Okay. I want to keep you. Maybe I can do something you like.
    That’s sick.
    Tim. Zelda throws the taps on. Wash your hands, she says. Tim steps up to the sink and pushes her aside with one hand, not hard.
    You got Ray.
    He runs his hands under the water and turns the taps off.
    Ray’s doing fucking rails on the fucking kitchen table at night. Zelda steps sideways, clear of the paper towel dispenser, and hops up to sit on the sink.
    And Tim, she says. He hits Max.
    He hits the dog?
    He beat him with a belt. We came home and he’d chewed up a patch cord and Ray went fucking nuts and took off his belt and beat him with it. He was screaming.
    Tim turns away and rams the handle of the paper towel holder up and down a few times, then rips off a long sheet.
    Ray was screaming?
    Max was.
    What did Mary do?
    She was holding me back.
    Jesus fucking Christ, Zelda.
    I want to keep you, Tim.
    The door handle rattles and from the outside a man yells Phyllis, you in there?!
    Zelda jumps off the sink. She pulls her sweater over her head and throws