A Love Song for Bobby Long Page #3

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after yellow flowers and corn.

This is you here:

Pretty, golden purslane.

Purslane's really a weed, you know.

A neighbor told me when I was 9

and I ran over his tomato plants.

He said all gardeners hate purslane.

Yeah, and dandelions.

It doesn't stop kids

from making wishes on them.

Purslane's an axillary bloom.

It closes up when the sun goes down.

Thanks.

Damn.

Last time I saw you, you were teeny.

Is there anyone here who doesn't remember

me with Lorraine, or am I the only one?

She used to sing here. I was about your age.

She was something.

- I'm so sorry.

- Don't be.

I'll have red beans and rice

and a beer, please.

I hear you'll be staying

at Bobby and Lawson's for a while?

No, I'll be staying at Lorraine's indefinitely.

- Will you be starting school in September?

- No.

I don't go to school. I waitress.

You need one?

No, just me and Uncle Earl.

They know you're not going to school?

They're all torn up about it. Ranks up there

with being out of vodka and cigarettes.

Mother, go make my bed

Make it long and narrow

My true love died for me yesterday

I shall die for him tomorrow

She was buried in the church house yard

And he was buried there beside her

And from his grave grew roses red

From hers grew greenbriers

They grew and they grew so very high

Till they could grow no higher

And at the top grew a true lover's knot

Twined with greenbriers

Y'all, this is Lorraine's daughter, Pursey.

She's gonna stay with us for a while.

Come on in.

- You grew up real pretty.

- Thank you.

Make yourself at home, darling.

I'm Ruthie. My gentleman friend, Ray.

Here 26 years.

Go on and relax, baby. Drink your beer.

Find anything?

I filled out a few applications.

You let that fresh young thing

live with you?

She's fresh, all right.

I remember when there was a new one

every night. Y'all was p*ssy magnets.

Which one of y'all snores

like a goddamn train?

Bobby. If he's on his back,

you have to turn him over.

I saw this program on the Medical Channel

that you can cure people of snoring...

by cutting their throats open.

I believe that I do have a story

for you gentlemen.

Quiet. Bobby's gonna tell a story.

When I was growing up, I always hung

around boys a couple years older than me.

And this one summer,

I was, I don't know, 10 or 11.

And we were doing all the normal things

that boys in Alabama do.

We were fishing...

and playing ball,

and swimming, and beating off.

But in addition to these activities

of an innocent childhood...

mine included a lot of talk...

about this wonderfully

elusive something called p*ssy.

I wasn't sure exactly what it was...

but I knew it was magical and very special

because of the way it was spoken about.

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