Pastoralia Read Online Free Page B

is to fire a gal, not to mention an old gal, not to mention an old gal with so many years of service under her ancient withered belt? There is so much you don’t know, about the Remixing, about our plans! Do not even answer me, I am too mad to read it .
    Which is not at all what I had in mind.
    No doubt my status with Nordstrom has been somewhat damaged.
    But okay.
    Janet is now doing better and I am now telling the truth. So things are as they should be.
    And I’m sure that, in the long run, Nordstrom will come to appreciate what I’ve accomplished.
    14.
    Next morning I go to the Big Slot and again find it goatless. Again no note.
    Janet comes out and makes, very quickly, a nice little fire.
    We squat and eat our Reserve Crackers while occasionally swatting each other with our hands. We get in kind of a mock squabble and scurry around the cave bent over and shrieking. She is really doing very well. I pound a rockagainst a rock in rage, indicating that I intend to toss some dirt in her face. She barks back very sharply.
    Someone pokes their head in.
    Young guy, kind of goofy-looking.
    “Bradley?” Janet says. “Holy shit.”
    “Hey, nice greeting, Ma,” the guy says, and walks in. He’s not supposed to walk in. No one’s supposed to walk in. I can’t remember a time when anyone has ever just walked in.
    “Fucking stinks in here,” he says.
    “Don’t you even come into my workplace and start swearing,” Janet says.
    “Yeah right Ma,” he says. “Like you never came into my workplace and started swearing.”
    “Like you ever had a workplace,” she says. “Like you ever worked.”
    “Like jewelry making wasn’t work,” he says.
    “Oh Bradley you are so full of it,” she says. “You didn’t have none of the equipment and no freaking jewels. And no customers. You never made a single piece of jewelry. You just sat moping in the basement.”
    Just our luck: Our first Guest in two weeks and it’s a relative.
    I clear my throat. I give her a look.
    “Give us five freaking minutes, will you, Mr. Tightass?” she says. “This is my kid here.”
    “I was conceptualizing my designs, Ma,” he says. “Which is an important part of it. And you definitely swore at my workplace. I remember very clearly one time you came down into the basement and said I was a fucking assholefor wasting my time trying to make my dream come true of being a jewelry maker.”
    “Oh bullshit,” she says. “I never once called you a asshole. And I definitely did not say fucking. I never say fuck. I quit that a long time ago. You ever hear me say fuck?”
    She looks at me. I shake my head no. She never says fuck. When she means fuck she says freak. She is very very consistent about this.
    “What?” says Bradley. “He don’t talk?”
    “He plays by the rules,” she says. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”
    “I was trying,” he says. “But still they kicked me out.”
    “Kicked you out of what?” she says. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, go back. They kicked you out of what? Of rehab?”
    “It’s nothing bad, Ma!” he shouts. “You don’t have to make me feel ashamed about it. I feel bad enough, being called a thief by Mr. Doe in front of the whole group.”
    “Jesus, Bradley,” she says. “How are you supposed to get better if you get kicked out of rehab? What did you steal this time? Did you steal a stereo again? Who’s Mr. Doe?”
    “I didn’t steal nothing, Ma,” he says. “Doe’s my counselor. I borrowed something. A TV. The TV from the lounge. I just felt like I could get better a lot faster if I had a TV in my room. So I took control of my recovery. Is that so bad? I thought that’s what I was there for, you know? I’m not saying I did everything perfect. Like I probably shouldn’t of sold it.”
    “You sold it?” she says.
    “There was nothing good ever on!” he says. “If they showed good programs I just know I would’ve gotten better. But no. It was so boring. So I decided to throw