The Last Studebaker. Robin Hemley

      The Last Studebaker

       A Novel

       Robin Hemley

       This book is a publication of

      INDIANA UNIVERSITY PRESS

      601 North Morton Street

      Bloomington, Indiana 47404-3797 USA

       iupress.indiana.edu

      Telephone orders 800-842-6796

      Fax orders 812-855-7931

      © 2012 by Robin Henley

      All rights reserved

      No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The Association of American University Presses' Resolution on Permissions constitutes the only exception to this prohibition.

      Manufactured in the United States of America

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

      Hemley, Robin, [date]

      The last Studebaker : a novel / Robin Hemley.

      p. cm.

      “Break Away Books.”

      ISBN 978-0-253-00012-5 (pbk. : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0253-00079-8 (electronic book) 1. Families—Fiction. 2. Studebaker automobile—Fiction. 3. South Bend (Ind.)—Fiction. I. Title.

      PS3558.E47915L37 2012

      813'.54—dc23

      2011053288

      1 2 3 4 5 17 16 15 14 13 12

      For my family,

      past and present

      No dignity without chromium

      No truth but a glossy finish

      If she purrs she's virtuous

      If she hits ninety she's pure

      WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS, Ballad of Faith

       Acknowledgments

      “Ballad of Faith,” from William Carlos Williams: Collected Poems, 1939–1962. Vol. II. Copyright © 1950 by William Carlos Williams. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.

      “The Banana Boat Song,” by Erik Darling, Bob Carey, and Alan Arkin. Copyright © 1956 by Edward B. Marks Music Company. Copyright renewed. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

      “True Blue Lou,” words and music by Leo Robin, Sam Coslow, and Richard A. Whiting. Copyright © 1929 by Famous Music Corporation. Copyright renewed 1956 and assigned to Famous Music Corporation. Reprinted by permission of Famous Music Corporation.

      “Wives and Lovers,” by Hal David. Copyright © 1963 by Famous Music Corporation. Reprinted by permission of Famous Music Corporation.

      I'd like to thank the North Carolina Arts Council, the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, and the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown for their generous support in helping me complete this work. I'm also grateful to Dr. Patrick Furlong at Indiana University at South Bend for his Studebaker expertise, and my wife, Beverly, Mark West, and Joe Nordgren, all of whom helped me enormously in completing this work.

      Part I

      Garage Sales

       Always give the customer more than you promise.

      –JOHN M. STUDEBAKER

       ONE

      You could have paved your driveway with Willy's voice, which was smoother than dirt, but not as even as asphalt. The gravel in it made him sound naturally surly, even when he said hello.

      Lois did her best to ignore him. After all, he was her ex-husband. But here they were, rocking like good friends on the porch swing, drinking whiskey out of paper cups, the dogs resting at their feet. Willy drank more than his share while Lois stared into the grayness of the dirt road in front of their yard.

      In the field across the road, a ruby light blinked on top of the radio tower, and somewhere overhead she could hear the buzzing of a small plane. Her head felt soggy with liquor. Her thoughts wouldn't focus, but banged away at her forehead like the bugs batting the screen door. She could hardly pay attention to what Willy said.

      She and Willy had finally come to an understanding. More like Willy's understanding. He'd told her she had to be out of the house in a week because “my girl wants to move in and there's not room enough for two in the barn.” Willy had set up his own bachelor quarters out there.

      “That's not true,” Lois said. “I know of at least two empty stalls. And there's plenty of hay.”

      Willy laughed. “Afraid she wouldn't like that,” he said. “She's not a horse. The last horse I dated was back in high school. Velma Parkinson.”

      “Velma,” Lois said.

      “It shouldn't surprise you,” he said.

      “It doesn't,” she said, but it did. “It's your house. You can do what you like.”

      “You still have money left, so that shouldn't worry you.”

      “It doesn't,” she said.

      What worried her was the coldness in his voice, like she was an employee being terminated, like there was nothing personal, but he just wasn't turning a profit.

      “You were the one who wanted this in the first place,” he said.

      “I know.”

      Lois surveyed the heap of Studebakers in front of the barn. Willy had been reconditioning the cars for the last seventeen years. Reconditioning in the sense that a wrecked ship eventually becomes indistinguishable from a coral reef. His aims seemed pretty hazy. He didn't actually want to fix or sell them, though that's what he claimed. Sheer accumulation seemed to be the goal. Willy was the king of rusted Studebakers. At least thirty of them sat out there, and none in one piece. Sometimes she thought he wanted to see how much of an eyesore he could create in one lifetime. But in some ways, Lois supposed, the cars served a purpose. They were man-made habitats for all sorts of creatures. Not tropical fish like in shipwrecks, but possums and woodchucks and field mice. The ground was barren beneath their pocked and chipped chassis; weeds twined around their airless tires and mushrooms grew in the cracked upholstery. Unhinged doors