Characters in Willa

“Hush,” her mother said. “If we were dead, we’d know it,” Biggers said. “He’s got you there, son,” Dudley said, and dropped David a wink. “What happened to us? How did we get dead?”

Out in the parking lot, Chester Dawson, who had decided to lay over here a few hours before resuming his journey to Seattle with a load of electronics, raised his head, thinking …

And who else cared for Willa? If she dropped out of sight in the High Plains, who besides David Sanderson would spare a thought? There was even some active dislike for her.

“Pardon my French, but she’s got you so pussy-whipped it isn’t funny.” Dudley let out that startling donkey bray again, and the Rhinehart woman began to sniffle. “You’re upsetting the passengers, you two.”

“So I should leave her? That’s nuts.” He walked on before Lander or his wife could reply. Georgia Andreeson was sitting on a nearby bench and watching her daughter caper up and down the dirty tile floor in her red traveling dress.

… here to John Ford country—and there was a faded circle on one wall not far from the corner where Helen Palmer squatted and muttered. Then David blinked again and the fluorescents were back. So was the big clock, hiding that faded circle. Henry …

But first tell me what else you know.” “Most of them I don’t even care about,” she said, “but Henry Lander’s nice. So’s his wife.” “Phil Palmer’s not bad, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “Phil the Pill.” “What do you know, Willa?”

“Yeah,” a fat young man in a Seattle Mariners cap said. David thought his name was O’Casey. Something Irish with an apostrophe in it, anyway. “Zip it, baby girl!”

“Mumma, I want to hear some music,” Pammy Andreeson said. “Hush,” her mother said. “If we were dead, we’d know it,” Biggers said.

But first tell me what else you know.” “Most of them I don’t even care about,” she said, “but Henry Lander’s nice. So’s his wife.” “Phil Palmer’s not bad, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “Phil the Pill.” “What do you know, Willa?” “You’ll see for yourself, if you really look.”

He thought of Pammy Andreeson cowering in her shrieking mother’s arms. Rattner, the soft-spoken conductor, saying, Just be calm, folks, in a voice that couldn’t be heard over the roar of the big yellow machines.

She had found her way to the bench in the corner, as she always did, eventually. The Rhinehart woman was minding her for the time being, giving the husband a little break, and she gave David a smile. “Have you seen Willa?”

Ruth Lander asked David, and what killed him (so to speak) wasn’t the reproach in her voice but the look in her eyes before she pressed her face …

“Y’all drink up, now, and remember—I’m Tony Villanueva, and we are The Derailers.” “That’s our cue to put on our diamond shoes and depart,” David said, and took her hand.

“Henry—as the chorus girl said to the archbishop, denial is not a river in Egypt.” Ursula Davis, who had disliked Willa from the first, stepped forward, leading with her chin. “Fuck off, you troublesome bitch.” Willa swung around.

Any liking Henry might once have had for Willa Stuart was gone now. “I don’t want to listen,” Henry said. “You’re upsetting my wife.” “Yeah,” a fat young man in a Seattle Mariners cap said.