'Is that why you're here?'
'What, to admire the animal life? Christ no. I'm here because being with people makes me vomit. I don't like 'em. I never did.'
'Not even Steep?' Will said.
Guthrie shot him a poisonous look. 'What in Christ's name kind of question is that?'
'Just asking.'
'Fucking stupid question,' Guthrie muttered. Then, softening somewhat, he said: 'They were something to look at, both of them, and that's the truth. I mean, Christ, Rosa was beautiful. I only put up with talking to Steep to get to her. But he said once I was too old for her.'
'How old were you?' Will asked him, thinking as he did so that Guthrie's story was changing slightly. He'd claimed only to know Steep; but apparently he'd known them both.
'I was thirty. Way too old for Rosa. She liked 'em real young. And of course she liked Steep. I mean the two of them, they were like husband and wife and brother and sister and fuck knows what else all rolled into one. I didn't stand a chance with her.' He let the subject trail away, and picked up another. 'You want to do some good for these bears?' he said. 'Get out there on the dump and poison 'em. Teach 'em not to come back. Maybe it'll take five seasons, and that'll be a lot of dead bears, but they'll get the message sooner or later.' Finally he downed the contents of his glass, and while the liquor still burned his throat said: 'I try not to think about them, but I do-' He wasn't talking about the bears now, Will knew. 'I can see both of them, like it was yesterday.' He shook his head. 'Both of them so beautiful. So ... pure.' His lip curled at the word, as though he meant its antithesis. 'It must be terrible for them.'