The End of Vandalism Read Free Page B

mad.”
    “But you’re still on the farm,” said Dan.
    “I still am,” said Louise. “Tiny went to live with his brother Jerry Tate in Pringmar. It’s good in the sense that Jerry racked up his snowmobile on New Year’s Eve. He was wearing a scarf that got caught in the belt thing.”
    “God damn,” said Dan.
    Louise opened and closed the egg box. “Jerry is lucky to be alive,” she said. “It’s a trial separation.”
    “We can give you what we call special attention,” said Dan. “We can come by your place on our patrols. It’s not really the height of security, but it’s still something.”
    “All I have is the rusty Vega,” said Louise. “The whole bottom is about to shear off. They could haul that freight right now—it’d be O.K. with me.”
    “You know, though,” said Dan, “sometimes you drive by a pickup and it might be parked on the shoulder with the flashers on. Now, say there’s baled straw all over the road, maybe there’s a man, there’s a woman, picking up the bales. Well, it’s easy to see what happened. But it’s too late to tie them tighter, obviously.”
    “O.K., I’m lost,” said Louise, and she blinked. Dan was quiet for a moment. He could almost hear her eyelids going poink, poink.
    “When the bales fall off,” he said.
    Henry came around the corner of the barn with a bucket in his hand. “That’s right, you needed eggs,” he said. He led them into the low red chicken house. The room was warm and hazy and full of straw. The chickens beat their wings and ran like mad in every direction.
     
    Dan got the crop duster Paul Francis of Chesley to take him up to look for the stolen machinery. They got off from the Stone City airport and headed south. The county had its winter colors—gray and bark brown shot through with strips of pale white. After a while, Paul, like all small-plane pilots in Dan’s experience, wanted Dan to try the wheel.
    “Look left,” said Paul. “Look right. Look up. You even have to look up.”
    The sun came out. “Where would you put a road grader?” said Dan.
    “Keep your eyes moving,” said Paul. “Where could you bring her down if an emergency happened?”
    “Back to you, in that case,” said Dan.
    The small plane droned into the blue air. The engine roared and the heater blasted, but the cold was like a brilliant curtain all around them. When Dan tested the responsiveness of the wheel, the wing tilted and the plane headed into the watery space above.
    “Level, level,” said Paul. Dan scanned a row of black instruments leading to a red and gold medallion that said, “The Sky Is Thine, O Lord.”
    “You’re not looking,” said Paul. “Disregard the panel at this stage. I’ll tape them gauges up with masking tape.”
    “I hate this,” said Dan. “I don’t want to be the pilot. That’s what you’re for, and how about taking me over Martins Woods? I mean it. Lesson over, king’s ex.”
    “All right,” said Paul.
    They said nothing for a while. Dan watched the snowy fields, the shimmering creeks, the cars on slick blacktop.
    “Have you given any thought to joining our Methodist prayer group?” said Paul.
    “No,” said Dan.
    They flew for another hour. When Paul came in to land at Stone City he didn’t like the set of his wings, so he pulled up and went around again. They flew right into the sun, and Dan put his hand over his eyes. Paul still wasn’t overly pleased with the setup, but he brought the plane bouncing down on the runway. Dan banged his ear against the door of the plane.Dan met Louise at Kleeborg’s Portraits at the end of the day. They took the cruiser out to a tuxedo shop on Old Highway 18. There was one green car in the parking lot.
    “It looks pretty closed,” said Dan.
    “No, because it’s Thursday, and all the retail stores are open until nine on Thursday,” said Louise. “Is this like a date?”
    “Is what like a date?”
    “This right now.”
    “I don’t know. More or less.”
    Dan got