They left a few minutes after eleven
Forrest was gone, hauled away by Harry Rex, both of them drunk. Forrest, typically, became sullen and wanted to drive to Memphis. Ray suggested he simply stay there. “Sleep on the porch if you don’t want to sleep in the house,” he said, without pushing.
Pushing would only cause a fight. Harry Rex said he would, under normal circumstances, invite Forrest to stay with him, but the new wife was a hard-ass and two drunks were probably too much.
“Just stay here,” Harry Rex said, but Forrest wouldn’t budge. Bullheaded enough when he was cold sober, he was intractable after a few drinks. Ray had seen it more times than he cared to remember and sat quietly as Harry Rex argued with his brother.
The issue was settled when Forrest decided he would rent a room at the Deep Rock Motel north of town. “I used to go there when I was seeing the mayor’s wife, fifteen years ago,” he said.
“It’s full of fleas,” Harry Rex said.
“I miss it already.”
“The mayor’s wife?” Ray asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Harry Rex said.
They left a few minutes after eleven, and the house had been growing quieter by the minute.
The front door had a latch and the patio door had a deadbolt. The kitchen door, the only one at the rear of the house, had a flimsy knob with a lock that was not working. The Judge could not operate a screwdriver and Ray had inherited this lack of mechanical skill. Every window had been closed and latched, and he was certain that the Atlee mansion had not been this secure in decades. If necessary, he would sleep in the kitchen where he could guard the broom closet.
He tried not to think about the money. Sitting in his father’s sanctuary, he mentally worked on an unofficial obituary.
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