April shut the door after him and put on the latch chain.
“I can’t stand that ass,” she said.
“Do you have any whiskey?”
“No.”
He called down to the bar for a bottle. A few minutes later a Negro porter knocked on the door. J.P. took the bottle and tipped him.
“Are you going to sit around and drink all night?” she said.
“For a while.”
“I’m sick of this place. Take me to a movie.”
“I’m leaving town in an hour,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m going back home for a few days.”
“What in the world for?”
“I ain’t been there since I went to work for
Hunnicut.”
“I’m not going to stay here by myself.”
“Do what you like.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
“You wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“I’m sick of this hotel.”
“Hunnicut will take you to a movie.”
“It’s not fair to go off and leave me alone. You didn’t even tell me.”
“I’m going to pack my bag,” he said.
He opened his suitcase on the bed and took some clean shirts out of the dresser drawer.
“Damn you,” she said.
“Let’s don’t have no arguments tonight.”
“You have to be back for the show Saturday.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I’m going with you. Anything is better than staying here.”
“It’s a little hick town south of the Arkansas line, and you’d be ready to leave five minutes after you was there.”
He wrapped the bottle of bourbon in a soft shirt and put it in the suitcase. He phoned the desk clerk and told him to send up the porter. The Negro came in and took the suitcase out.