Down Hill Water

Down load Part Three

Closed Roads and a Frozen Well

            Punt had come into the room from the bathroom with toilet water still dripping from his mouth, and sat down next to Ellis.  He dripped on the floor, only an inch or so from Francine's feet.
            "God what a disgusting animal," she whined.
            Punt, unaffected by this, leaned forward and sniffed at her leg.  She swatted him on the nose with the paperback book she still held, and he backed off, but not before emitting a slight growl.
            "There!  Even the dog's tired of your whiny bullshit, Francine.  You need to just mellow out or something," Duncan said taking his feet off the coffee table and reaching for the candy tin.
            "Sure, you think you can just start up a joint and we'll all just forget about it."  Francine sounded determined to make a big deal out of the dogs.
            "That might be a good idea."  John mumbled under his breath.
            "What's that?"
            "Nothing."
            Ellis had crossed the room and now sat in the overstuffed chair kitty-corner from where Francine perched next to John.  Punt followed him, glaring back at Francine, before he circled twice and lay down near Ellis' feet.  Duncan had taken the last joint out of the candy tin and rolled it between his fingers, looking at it.
            "You do roll a nice joint, Ellis, even if they are a little puny."  Duncan looked at Ellis and smiled.  He then looked over at John with a serious expression that slowly turned to a smile as well.  "John, I don't mean to be an asshole, but I think Francine needs to understand something about the farm.
            "Understand!"  She said, leaning closer to John.  "I understand alright.  You're as bad as the God damn dogs, they're just plain filthy, and you're such a slob, you don't even care."
            Duncan calmly lit the joint, took a hit and passed it to Fred, who seemed to be too engrossed in the television to pay much attention.  He did manage to grasp the joint, take a long drag off it, and hand it toward Ellis, who, busily manufacturing a fresh cigarette, declined by silently holding up his hand.
            Duncan blew out the remainder of his shortly held breath, and looked up at Francine.  "You know, since Ellis' ex- wife Karen moved out about a year ago, this place has been a kind of haven for us poor happy bachelors.  Since Karen, the girls have kinda come and gone around here, but none have really stayed very long.  Frankly, I think you're right in some ways.  We're kind of a crude bunch, and our manners, here at home at least, may lack a bit of sophistication, and as soon as it gets really cold and the well freezes up, things will get even more primitive, and with all due respect, I don't think I could put up with any woman who could live here.  I guess the bottom line is that this place is pretty much a hovel, and we like it that way."
            No one said a word, not John, not Ellis, and certainly not Francine.  The joint, which had stopped with Fred, resumed its movement again.  Duncan took a long slow drag, sucking in a little fresh air along with the smoke, and handed it to John, who took it without a word.  Punt stretched slightly and began to lick his testicles.
            "Punt's got the right idea," Fred said, looking away from the television for the first time.  "That's pretty much how I feel about the whole thing."
            John offered the joint to Francine, but without expression or acknowledgment of any kind, she stood, turned away, and went quietly upstairs.
            John, still holding the joint, took a second hit and handed it back to Duncan.
            "Boy, I sure hope I didn't fuck up," Duncan said softly, looking at John for an answer.
            "Not really.  It was time for her to figure that out anyway.  She'd probably have only lasted another couple three days even if the dogs all moved to the barn, and we bought a new mop."  John slid down in the chair and stretched himself out to where he could put his feet up on the coffee table.
            "Mop?"  Ellis questioned.
            "Oh nothing.  She was just wanting a new mop this morning before you guys got back."
            "Hey Duncan, what's this about the well freezing?"  Ellis said, as he flicked the ash from his cigarette into his shirt pocket.
            Duncan laughed and held his hand out in Ellis' direction.  "Give me your cigarette makins, I want'a roll one of'em."  Ellis handed over his tobacco.
            "What about the well?"  Ellis asked again.
            "When it gets cold, it freezes."
            "How cold?"
            "Oh, I don't know, it kinda depends how long it's been cold, but it seems like last year it was only down to about ten degrees when it froze."
            "Did it thaw out when it warmed back up?"  Ellis seemed to want to know all about the well.
            "Well yeah, it thawed out in the spring again, but not until then."
            "That's the way it was the year before too."  John added.
            "You mean we just don't have water in the winter?"  Ellis asked.
            Fred sat up and stretched.  "Yeah, that's pretty much it.  The well's really only a wide spot in the creek, and it's not that deep, so it just freezes along with the rest of the creek.  Is anybody hungry?
            Everybody agreed that something to eat would be good, and Fred went into the kitchen to scrounge up some dinner.  He sliced some potatoes into a frying pan, threw in a little butter, and set them on the stove in the parlor.  When they had cooked for about fifteen minutes, he threw in some cut up green peppers and onions.  He dug around in one of the cupboards and found a lid for the pan, and after he salted and peppered this soggy mess he covered it, and sat back down on the couch.
            "What's this we're watching?" he asked Duncan.
            "A movie, 'Walden of the North', it's about this guy that gets lost up in the Yukon, and then gets found by these women from some utopian culture somewhere up there, or something like that.  I remember seeing it a long time ago, but I don't really remember it."
             "The picture sure is shitty."
            "That's snow.  The picture's in the Yukon.  There's snow everywhere."
            "I don't know, that still looks like a pretty shitty picture," Fred persisted.
            "It's not all that good, I guess, probably cause of the snow storm."  Duncan got up, went to the kitchen door, and looked out.  It was too dark to see, so he opened the door.  The wind whipped snow into the kitchen as he opened it, and he shut it again quickly.  "I guess It's still snowing out," he said and sat back down.
            They all sat there and watched the movie in silence.  Fred finished making dinner and they ate.  When dinner was over John went upstairs to bed, or at least to Francine.  Fred made it most of the way through the movie before he headed for bed, and Duncan and Ellis sat up half the night watching the late movie.  When the late movie ended, Duncan turned off the television, leaned over and shook Ellis who had fallen asleep, and then went up to bed himself.  Ellis yawned, got up and put the dogs outside, put another can of coal in the stove, and went to bed as well.
            The next day began with Fred clamoring down the rickety back stairs about seven o'clock.  The main house was cold and he first checked the stove, which had gone out as usual.  He built a fire, put the coffeepot on the stove, and sat down at the kitchen table to read a newspaper that had been brought home, for starting fires, nearly a week ago.  It was still snowing hard and it looked like there was already nearly a foot on the ground.  Where the wind had drifted the snow up against the barn, it was considerably deeper.  About seven thirty, Francine came down stairs carrying a suitcase.
            "I need a ride into town," she began.  "I think it's best if I find some other place to live.  It's clear that you boys don't want me around, and I don't want to be somewhere I'm not wanted."  She walked over to where her coat hung on a nail behind the wood cook stove, removed it and started to put it on.
            "Have you looked outside?"  Fred said, turning the page of the newspaper.
            "What difference does that make?" she said, pulling her coat up tight around herself and walking to the window.
            "Nobody's going anywhere until the snow plow comes by and clears the road."
            "But I want to leave now."
            "You're going to have to walk, and I wouldn't recommend that right now.  I don't think you'd get very far in this snow."
            "I have to leave now though."  She was adamant.  She paced back and forth between the parlor and the kitchen.  "I just can't ever see that Duncan again, ever."
            Fred got up, found two reasonably clean cups, and poured coffee for them both.  "Sit down.  Let's talk a minute."
            "Don't you start telling me what to do.  I don't want to sit down."
            "Suit yourself.  Have a cup of coffee."
            "I don't want a cup of coffee either."
            "Alright then, just listen."
            She continued to pace while Fred folded the newspaper and set it on the table next to himself.  Finally she stopped and stared out the window at the snow coming down.
            "Look," he said firmly.  "There's nobody here that doesn't like you."
            "Except you, and Ellis, and Duncan, that's all."  She continued to stare out the window.
            "That's not true.  We just don't want you to try and change our way of life here, that's all."
            "You call this life?"
            "Well, it may not seem like much, but it's the way we want it.  It's fine with us.  You know, we've been living like this out here for about two years, and I don't think you're going to come along and change it overnight."  One of the dogs scratched at the kitchen door, and he got up and let it in.  Francine shuddered a little at the sight of Punt, as he walked through the kitchen and lay down next to the stove in the parlor.  "I don't blame you for wanting to leave.  We live pretty crude out here, but I guess we kinda like it, and it's not that bad.  It's kinda mellow, and you might even like it if you just tried a little."
            She turned from the window, and stared at him for a moment, trying to evaluate his motives.  When she was satisfied that he meant her no harm, she walked to the table and sat across from him.  He pushed the coffee he had poured for her across the table, and she took it.
            "I still think Duncan hates me."  She took a drink of coffee, and set the cup on the table.
            "No, Duncan doesn't hate anyone or anything.  He's not going to stand for his world being changed too much without a fight, and I guess it's not really fair, but we do kinda have you outnumbered.  I think you're welcome to live here, but just don't try to change things too much."  Fred got up and dug around in the kitchen cupboard where they had put the large bag of marijuana the day before.  He took out one of the smaller bags and returned the rest to the cupboard.  He then walked into the parlor and returned with a packet of cigarette papers and the coffeepot.
            "You want a little more coffee?"
            She pushed her cup toward him, he filled it along with his own and sat down, setting the pot on the table.  He then took one paper from the packet and began to roll a joint.  She sat quietly drinking her coffee and watching him fumble around with his project.  Finally he tore the paper in half, and the whole thing fell apart onto the table before him.
            "Here let me have all that stuff."  Francine set down her coffee and reaching across the table, she scooped Fred's mess toward herself.  She pulled out the two halves of the cigarette paper and set them aside, took another from the packet and folded it neatly in half.  She then scooped the crumbled leaves into a little pile with her hand and placed them into the paper one pinch at a time.  Fred watched her curiously, wondering how she would do.  She rolled the marijuana back and forth in the paper several times, and then in one smooth movement, she applied a little pressure and rolled the whole thing into a perfect cylinder about three eighths of an inch in diameter.  She licked the gummed edge and set it on the table in front of him.
            "Pretty nice, where'd you learn how to do that?"  Fred was impressed.
            "You don't think women should be able to roll a joint?"  She was a little defensive and leaned back in her chair with her coffee.
            "Oh I don't know about that, I've just never seen this nice a joint, ever."  He picked up the joint from the table and turning it in his fingers, admired the craftsmanship that had gone into it.