All the Pretty Horses

soul in sight and him standin there with his papers up under his shirt just a hollerin.
    He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
    Ah shit, he said.
    What?
    Nothin. Just shit.
    What is it?
    I keep thinkin about old Blevins.
    John Grady didnt answer. Rawlins turned and looked at him. His eyes were wet and he looked old and sad.
    I caint believe they just walked him out there and done him that way.
    Yeah.
    I keep thinkin about how scared he was.
    You’ll feel better when you get home.
    Rawlins shook his head and looked out the window again. I dont think so, he said.
    John Grady smoked. He watched him. After a while he said: I aint Blevins.
    Yeah, said Rawlins. I know you aint. But I wonder how much better off you are than him.
    John Grady stubbed out his cigarette. Let’s go, he said.
    They bought toothbrushes and a bar of soap and a safety-razor at a farmacia and they found a room in a hotel two blocks down Aldama. The key was just a common doorkey tied to a wooden fob with the number of the room burned into the wood with a hot wire. They walked out across the tiled courtyard where the rain was falling lightly and found the room and opened the door and turned on the light. A man sat up in the bed and looked at them. They backed out and turned off the light and shut the door and went back to the desk where the man gave them another key.
    The room was bright green and there was a shower in one corner with an oilcloth curtain on a ring. John Grady turned on the shower and after a while there was hot water in the pipes. He turned it off again.
    Go ahead, he said.
    You go ahead.
    I got to come out of this tape.
    He sat on the bed and peeled away the dressings while Rawlins showered. Rawlins turned off the water and pushed back the curtain and stood drying himself with one of the threadbare towels.
    We’re a couple of good’ns, aint we? he said.
    Yeah.
    How you goin to get them stitches out?
    I guess I’ll have to find a doctor.
    It hurts worse takin em out than puttin em in.
    Yeah.
    Did you know that?
    Yeah. I knew that.
    Rawlins wrapped the towel around himself and sat on the bed opposite. The envelope with the money was lying on the table.
    How much is in there?
    John Grady looked up. I dont know, he said. Considerable less than what there was supposed to be, I’ll bet. Go ahead and count it.
    He took the envelope and counted the bills out on the bed.
    Nine hundred and seventy pesos, he said.
    John Grady nodded.
    How much is that?
    About a hundred and twenty dollars.
    Rawlins tapped the sheaf of bills together on the glass of the tabletop and put them back in the envelope.
    Split it in two piles, said John Grady.
    I dont need no money.
    Yes you do.
    I’m goin home.
    Dont make no difference. Half of it’s yours.
    Rawlins stood and hung the towel over the iron bedstead and pulled back the covers. I think you’re goin to need ever dime of it, he said.
    When he came out of the shower he thought Rawlins was asleep but he wasnt. He crossed the room and turned off the light and came back and eased himself into the bed. He lay in the dark listening to the sounds in the street, the dripping of rain in the courtyard.
    You ever pray? said Rawlins.
    Yeah. Sometimes. I guess I got kindly out of the habit.
    Rawlins was quiet for a long time. Then he said: What’s the worst thing you ever done?
    I dont know. I guess if I done anything real bad I’d rather not tell it. Why?
    I dont know. I was in the hospital cut I got to thinkin: I wouldnt be here if I wasnt supposed to be here. You ever think like that?
    Yeah. Sometimes.
    They lay in the dark listening. Someone crossed the patio. A door opened and closed again.
    You aint never done nothin bad, said John Grady.
    Me and Lamont one time drove a pickup truckload of feed to Sterling City and sold it to some Mexicans and kept the money.
    That aint the worst thing I ever heard of.
    I done some other stuff too.
    If you’re goin to talk I’m goin to smoke a cigarette.
    I’ll shut up.
    They lay quietly in the dark.
    You know about what happened, dont you? said John Grady.
    You mean in the messhall?
    Yeah.
    Yeah.
    John Grady reached and got his cigarettes off the table and lit one and blew out the match.
    I never thought I’d do that.
    You didnt have no choice.
    I still never thought it.
    He’d of done it to you.
    He drew on the cigarette and blew the smoke unseen into the darkness. You dont need to try and make it right. It is what it is.
    Rawlins didnt answer. After a while