The Lost Woods: Stories

The Longing

80 The Longing 1965 Jacob White, Jr. She฀was฀one฀of฀those฀women฀who฀become฀beautiful฀after฀you฀see฀them฀ a฀few฀times.฀I฀was฀y oung฀enough฀not฀t o฀have฀a฀w orking฀knowledge฀ of฀women,฀but฀old฀enough฀to฀think฀about฀them฀all฀the฀time.฀So฀though฀I฀ had฀never฀really฀pursued฀women฀with฀much฀success,฀I฀had฀done฀plenty฀of฀ looking฀and฀imagining.฀So฀when฀she฀showed฀up฀at฀church,฀I฀sized฀her฀up. ฀ It฀is฀one฀of฀those฀terrible฀habits฀that฀we฀men฀have.฀You฀rank฀the฀women฀ your฀age฀as฀e ither฀hopelessly฀beyond฀your฀reach,฀within฀your฀reach,฀or฀ someone฀you฀are฀just฀not฀interested฀in฀“in฀that฀way”฀as฀people฀often฀say.฀ But฀the฀truth฀is,฀women฀never฀stay฀where฀you฀put฀them.฀Inherently฀smarter ฀than฀we฀men฀are,฀they’re฀always฀making฀your฀neat฀categories฀collapse฀ like฀the฀walls฀of฀a฀poorly฀built฀house฀in฀a฀tornado. ฀ So฀it฀was฀with฀Angela.฀I฀saw฀her฀at฀church,฀put฀her฀in฀category฀three;฀saw฀ her฀in฀the฀g rocery฀store,฀decided฀I฀might฀have฀pigeonholed฀her฀too฀soon.฀ Then฀I฀saw฀her฀at฀church฀again฀and฀wondered฀if฀she฀hadn’t฀exchanged฀bodies ฀with฀a฀movie฀star.฀She฀had฀that฀subtle฀beauty฀that฀one฀comes฀to฀know฀in฀ the฀same฀way฀one฀might฀come฀to฀enjoy฀the฀taste฀of a fine wine:฀slowly. ฀ So฀I฀did฀something฀very฀uncharacteristic฀of฀me.฀I฀went฀up฀and฀talked฀ to฀her.฀How฀we฀got฀around฀to฀hunting฀I฀am฀not฀sure.฀I฀think฀maybe฀I฀was฀ trying฀to฀convince฀her฀of฀my฀manliness.฀And฀in฀small-town฀South฀Carolina ,฀there฀was฀no฀better฀way฀to฀make฀such฀an฀argument฀than฀to฀bring฀up฀ hunting฀exploits. The฀Longing 81 ฀ So฀she฀says฀in฀this฀offhand฀way,฀“Ever฀been฀coon฀hunting?” ฀ I฀was฀too฀surprised฀to฀lie.฀“No,”฀I฀blurted฀out.฀So฀in฀no฀less฀than fifteen฀ minutes฀we฀had฀a฀date฀of฀sorts.฀I฀was฀to฀go฀coon฀hunting฀with฀her฀and฀her฀ father฀and฀some฀of฀his฀friends. ฀ I฀lived฀with฀my฀grandmother฀on฀a฀farm฀because฀both฀my฀parents฀died฀ when฀I฀was฀three.฀I฀had฀learned฀to฀hunt฀mostly฀with฀my฀friends฀Roy฀and฀ Johnny฀and฀occasionally฀my฀wild฀Uncle฀Ted.฀But฀I฀had฀only฀heard฀about฀ coon฀hunters.฀Only฀seen฀them฀from฀afar.฀I฀thoug ht฀of฀them฀as฀a฀b reed฀ apart฀from฀any฀hunters฀I฀knew฀or฀ever฀imagined฀wanting฀to฀be. ฀ Perhaps฀it฀was฀b ecause฀they฀hunted฀in฀the฀nig ht.฀Perhaps฀it฀was฀the ฀ dogs—those฀dangle-eared฀hounds฀that฀sometimes฀cost฀a฀thousand฀dollars฀ or฀more.฀If฀you฀look฀at฀him฀c losely,฀a฀coon฀hound฀has฀the฀lo ok฀of฀a฀dog฀ that฀lives฀under฀somebody’s฀front฀porch฀and฀sleeps฀sprawled฀in฀inch-thick฀ dirt฀all฀day—the฀kind฀of฀dog฀that฀cocks฀a฀sleepy฀eye฀when฀a฀car฀drives฀up฀ to฀the฀porch,฀only฀to฀drift฀quietly฀back฀into฀the฀land฀of฀nod฀before฀the฀car฀ door฀opens. ฀ And฀the฀h unters.฀They฀always฀appeared฀to฀me฀t o฀have฀cr awled฀out฀ from฀under฀a฀rock฀somewhere,฀to฀have฀wandered฀into฀town฀from฀way฀out฀ in฀the฀country,฀so฀far฀out฀they฀rarely฀get฀in,฀so฀far฀that฀they฀could฀hardly฀ talk฀in฀a฀way฀that฀you฀could฀understand฀them.฀To฀this฀day฀the฀banjo฀twang฀ of฀their฀voices฀rings฀in฀my฀ears. ฀ Now฀my฀rather฀overprotective฀grandmother฀might฀not฀have฀been฀too฀ happy฀ab out฀me฀g oing฀o ff฀coon฀hunting฀w ith฀p eople฀she฀didn ’t฀really฀ know฀had฀Angela’s฀father฀not฀b een฀a฀p hysician.฀He฀was฀the฀p ediatrician฀ over฀near฀Yellow฀Bluff,฀and฀though฀he฀was฀not฀my฀doctor,฀everybody฀knew฀ him฀and฀pretty฀much฀liked฀him. ฀ But฀he฀did฀have฀his฀strange฀side.฀He฀was฀a฀coon฀hunter฀of฀course,฀not฀ something฀that฀most฀p hysicians฀claim฀to฀be.฀He฀was฀also฀the฀lea d฀singer฀ in฀a฀country฀band฀of฀some฀sort,฀so฀that฀outside฀the฀office฀everybody฀knew฀ him฀as฀ “Whippoorwill”฀or฀more฀properly฀“the฀Whippoorwill.”฀He฀even฀ had฀the฀name฀on฀his฀ornate฀mailbox฀at฀the฀end฀of฀the฀long,฀winding฀drive฀ that฀led฀to฀his฀ palatial฀farmhouse฀on฀twenty฀acres฀of฀pristine฀land฀that฀ had฀never฀been฀plowed฀or฀cut,฀so฀he฀claimed.฀“Whippoorwill”฀was฀written฀ The฀Longing 82 in฀jaunty฀letters฀with฀musical฀notes฀all...