Neal Barrett Jr. by Dawn's Uncertain Light Page A

studied her face, the high cheeks and flawless skin, the little curl at the corner of her mouth when she spoke. She sat straight and proper, and her dress was as modest as could be. Still, there was a woman underneath all that, Howie knew, and his mouth went dry at the thoughts that were forming in his head.
    “Cory, is this your first time in Alabama Port?”
    “What? Yeah, I guess so.” Howie came to his senses. “I mean, it sure is. I never been here before.”
    “Yes. I see.” Lorene smiled faintly and looked at her hands. Howie felt the color rise to his face. Oh Lord, he’d ruined it all now. The girl had caught him straight out; she knew exactly what was going through his mind.
    Lorene stood, and said goodbye to Ritcher Jones.
    “Cory, it was very nice meeting you,” she said politely, scarcely looking in his direction. Gathering her skirts, she moved gracefully across the room.
    “A very lovely young lady,” said Ritcher Jones. “Yes, sir,” Howie said. “She seems real nice.”
    “A truly fine person.” Jones sighed, and brought the tips of his fingers together. “Dedicated, too, I’ll say that.
    She walks in the Light of the Lord.”
    Howie muttered an answer. He didn’t want to risk a look at Jones. Not now. The way Lorene walked had impressed him, too, but a totally different image had come to mind.
    S leep wouldn’t come. For a long time he sat on his bed and stared out the window. The night was sultry and oppressive; there was not enough breeze to stir the thin curtains. Howie wished his window faced the east. He could see the bay then, and the ships.
    In spite of the late hour, Alabama Port was still very much alive. From his perch on the fourth floor, he could see a great deal of the town. Lanterns winked in the night.
    There were lights in taverns, in homes, and in the streets. He followed a line of streetlights west until they came to an end. Past that was the dark, the beginning of open country again. There might be a few farmers out there, but they wouldn’t be burning any light. Fuel for a lamp cost money; a farmer did what he needed to do by the sun, and when he was done he went to bed.
    There weren’t any campfires, either, Howie saw. Only a man who didn’t value his life would call attention to himself these days. It wasn’t smart to let everyone know where you were.
    The idea of that struck Howie and brought him quickly out of his thoughts. Lord, he was doing the very same thing. He surely was. Not out in the woods, but it wasn’t much different—worse, if you thought about it some. The town was full of troopers and folks from all over. And a man with one eye brought attention to himself. Why, he could walk outside in the morning and run smack into someone who knew who he was. Someone who knew his name, and how he’d lost his eye. Take that Captain Ricks. He’d asked a bunch of questions for no good reason at all. And looked at him funny to boot.
    Howie was filled with sudden anger at himself. “What the hell am I doin’ in this place?” he said aloud. He stood abruptly and walked to the far end of the room. He pressed his hands against the walls and closed his eyes. Turned and went back, grasped the window sill, and stared restlessly out into the night.
    The truth was, he didn’t have any business here at all. He had followed Jones to Alabama Port simply because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. And that was a damn fool reason—less than no reason, for a fact.
    He thought about the girl. She hadn’t been much off his mind since supper. Lord, but she was pretty. She made Howie hurt all over—the kind of hurt he’d put aside for some time. There hadn’t been room for pleasure in his life. But maybe that could change. Of course it wouldn’t be Lorene—you could think about a girl like that, but that’s as far as it would go. There were other girls, though, Plenty of ’em in Alabama Port. And the way Jones talked, they weren’t against a little sin now and