Free Black Angus by Newton Thornburg

no good reason.
    â€œWhy? What happens then?”
    â€œIt’s already happening.”
    She moved closer to him, resting her chin on his chest. “I don’t think I like you tonight. You’re kind of smartassy.”
    â€œIn what way?” he asked, though he knew.
    â€œForget it. Just tell me this—how come he’s hanging around Little? What are they up to?”
    â€œI’ve got no idea.”
    â€œAll Little’s ever done is use people, get all he could out of them. He must figure there’s some way he can use Shea.”
    â€œMaybe they’re both trying to use each other.”
    â€œCould be. But I don’t know. Shea’s different. The way he’s always on stage. It’s like he can’t help himself.”
    â€œCompulsive.”
    She nodded. “He reminds me of this manager we had in one of the clubs in Kansas City. He found out he had cancer, and overnight he changed. He just started talking and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t make any sense after a while, but it didn’t make any difference to him. He’d just keep right on talking like he was afraid that if he stopped, his life would stop. The cancer would get him.”
    Blanchard looked over at her, impressed. “I think you’re right—you can do better than the Sweet Crick.”
    â€œWho couldn’t? You know they were both there this afternoon? Him and Little? I didn’t want to sit with them because of Little, but Shea kept pressuring me.”
    â€œSo you sat.”
    She nodded. “Yeah. And Shea did all the talking.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œYou, mostly.”
    â€œWhat’d he say?”
    â€œMostly stuff I already know, like your money problems and your wife hating it here and all. And he said maybe you got Bang’s now too.”
    â€œIt’s nice to have friends.”
    â€œOh, he wasn’t putting you down. He just said you haven’t got no way out and that maybe we could figure out some way to help.”
    Blanchard laughed at that, a despairing laugh. “Jesus, he is beyond belief. Don’t tell me, let me guess—he said Little could rustle my cattle, sell them, split with me, and I’d get the insurance, pay off the bank, and live happily ever after.”
    Ronda managed a smile. “Something like that.”
    But Blanchard did not consider it funny. In fact it infuriated him, the idea that Shea—his old buddy, his uninvited house-guest—was not only discussing Blanchard’s personal and business problems in public but was also proposing their solution, through crime . The fact that Shea was drinking at the time, that he was playing his usual games—none of it lessened Blanchard’s anger. At the same time he knew Ronda was in no way to blame, deserved no part of his anger. So he said nothing. He lit a cigarette and waited, blowing smoke at the low, flocked ceiling above them.
    â€œWell,” she asked, “what do you think?”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œShea’s plan.”
    â€œBeautiful,” he said. “Just beautiful.”
    She took a drag on his cigarette and returned it. “Well, it doesn’t sound so dumb to me. Cows you have to feed. Money you can spend. Spend to get out of here.”
    â€œYou sound like my wife.”
    â€œSmart lady. I say anybody hates it here can’t be all bad.”
    â€œI never said she was.”
    â€œIt’s just a phrase. I didn’t mean nothing.”
    â€œI know that.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I still know the score—wife one hundred, Ronda zip.”
    â€œAnd what game is that?”
    â€œThe game of life.”
    â€œYou do all right.”
    â€œOh sure, I’m a real success. But once I get out of here ...” Her voice trailed off, inadequate to her expectations.
    Blanchard smoked in silence, thinking of that time when he would not be lying next to her anymore, when he would not