Free Lost Nation by Jeffrey Lent

you tell whoever’s doing the asking to talk to me. I’m serious as can be. I catch you blabbing on I’ll work you over so bad you’ll wished I killed you. We can make something out of this place, we watch ourselves sharp to start. You hear me?”
    She turned and faced him. Her lips in the firelight grease-stained, fresh as new-cut fruit. She said, “It irks me some to hear you. Ain’t you listening to me?”
    “You’re young. Young forget themselves.”
    “I ain’t that young.”
    “No. I guess not. But not one of us is ever as smart as we think we are.”
    She said, “You just speak up, you see me going wrong.”
    “Don’t you back-talk me.”
    “Idn’t there no pleasing you?”
    He was quiet then. Sat a time. Considered the gallons of rum just feet away and dismissed the notion. Not now. Not for some time. He wanted to be vigilant as he could be. After a bit he turned to face the girl again. Seated across from him over the lovestruck table, her hands cupping her chin, her face waiting for him, her hair spilling down meager with grease and dirt but pretty around her bright face. She was looking at him with something that might have been affection. Or amusement of some kind. Most likely, he thought, just her paying-attention, ready-to-run face. Practiced and for good reason. He sighed.
    He said, “You please me as much as I want pleasing. It’s just that what’s ahead of us is two three weeks of hard work and tight lips. Andafter that we’ll have this place stitched tight as a mean woman’s purse. And those that don’t like it can frig themselves in the woods for all I care. That’s how it’ll be, as long as we step careful at first. It’s a lesson in life, one you likely know but maybe never put so many words to it: You let the other feller talk enough and you’ll know everything you ever want to know about him. Idn’t that right, now?”
    “I seen that work.”
    “I imagine you have. It’s like that here, except it’s more than one feller. It’s the whole place. It’s got its own ways and they’re going to be somewhat different from what either one of us seen before. So we go easy at first. That’s all.”
    “Let me ask you something.”
    He wanted to rise. Go outside, walk around studying the sky and the clearing of land. See how things felt. Try and divine if there was any danger working immediate or close. He said, “What is it?”
    “Are we partners here? Or do you figure you own me? How’s that going to work?”
    He studied her. So goddamn young. Still thinking she could inform her life. He said, “I guess that part’s up to you.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    He stood and stretched. The hound rose with him, also stretching, a shudder running along the ridge of his spine. Blood looked up at the rough rafters of the loft and back to Sally. He said, “That’s enough. It was a hard trek here and I’m worn to a nubbin. And we’re not even started yet. What I’m going to do is go out and scout around, make sure I feel comfortable to get some sleep. I’ll take the dog with me. What you do is bar the door after me and then stand by it, ready to let me in when I holler. It’s another thing for you to recall: However good things are you can always depend on them to turn against you. You follow me?”
    “That’s a shitty deal.”
    “I didn’t bring you here to pamper you.”
    “I’m not asking for nothing like that.”
    “I’ve got no intention to be cruel to you either, you don’t demand it. You shouldn’t trouble me with this sort of thing. I got enough to worry over. And I’m not as young as you. I’m a tired man tonight. I get back in I plan to make up a bed one side of the chimney and let that heat seep into my bones. You can sleep the other side of the chimney or up in theloft, I don’t care. Either way will be better than anything either of us has had in a while. But right now I want you to stand by the door. I won’t be long, so long’s there’s nothing to