Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (16 page)

“She didn’t mean it the way you took it.” Foley sent another glance over his shoulder.

“Yes, she did. She thinks everyone is a dummy but her! Even you, Daddy, if you want to know the truth.”

“I’m warnin’ you, Mona!”

“Rusty’s smarter than she’ll be if she lives to be a hundred. Can she play the violin? The guitar? Does she know anything about President Roosevelt’s New Deal or that German overseas who’s stirring things up? Rusty can talk about a lot of things. All she knows is how to make life miserable for me and Jody and how to butter you up.” Frustrations of the last few months bubbled up and came spewing out of Mona’s mouth like a fountain.

“This constant bickering between you two is driving me crazy!” Foley slammed on the brakes and slowed the car to a mere crawl.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m sorry.” Sugar ran her hand up and down the inside of Foley’s thigh. “I worry that Mona is becoming too attached to a hopeless cripple. The man will have to be taken care of for the rest of his life. Do we want our girl tied to a man like that?”

“
Our
girl?” Mona yelled. “I’m not your girl just because my daddy married you. I had a mother who never said unkind things. She never called me a warthog or told me I was ugly and would never get a man. And Rusty is not a helpless cripple!”

“See there, darlin’? They’ve already got her hooked into feeling sorry for him. How else will they get a woman to take care of a blind—”

“Just … shut up!” Mona yelled, and burst into tears.

“She’ll never let me be a mother to her,” Sugar whispered to Foley with a broken sob. “The Putmans have turned her against me.”

“Mona, you will have respect for my wife—”

“How about her having respect for … me?” Mona’s voice broke as she sobbed.

“I never called her fat and ugly,” Sugar whispered, desperate to get Foley’s attention.

“Yes, she did, Pop.” Jody leaned forward. “She’s been on Mona’s back since the week after you married her. More so since we started on this trip.”

“It was for her own good, darlin’. I wanted her to take pride in herself and be
pretty
.”

“Shut up!” Foley shouted. “All of you, just shut up!” He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the car shot ahead.

Behind Brady, in a Model A Ford coupe with a rumble seat, the driver swore.

“What the hell they slow down for?”

“Hell, I dunno. Stay back a ways. I ain’t wantin’ that ass-hole cowboy knowin’ we’re behind him.” Homer Persy sat with his booted foot up on the dashboard.

Homer’s Uncle Chester had borrowed the car, or rather taken the car, from his mother’s barn, where it had been sitting since his father’s death a year ago.

“I ain’t knowin’ why yo’re all put out ’bout taking Granny’s car.” Homer let his arm dangle out the window. “She can’t drive it nohow.”

“It was Pa’s. She’s got a fondness for it, and she’s still grievin’.”

“How long’s she goin’ to grieve, fer God’s sake?”

“Ma’ll be back from Sister’s in a week. I got to have the car back ’fore then.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Chester.”

“I’m worried and I’m tired. We drove like hell to catch up with these yahoos. Where we goin’ to get gas money to get back home?”

“The one with the slutty woman has money. She said he sold his ice business. He’da not put it in the bank the way they’re goin’ bust.”

“How you figure to get it?”

“The time will come.”

“It better come soon.”

“I got it all figured out, Uncle.”

“Stop callin’ me that. Makes me feel like I got one foot in the grave already. I ain’t but eight years older than you.”

“Lordy. You must be damn near thirty. That’s older than dirt. Are ya too old to get it up,
Uncle
? Is your pleasurin’ days over,
Uncle
?” Homer pushed his hat back on his head and let his foot drop to the floor of the car.

Chester ignored the jabs. “Whatta ya mean you got somethin’ figured out?”

“I ain’t got but ten dollars in my pocket. How much you got?”

“Not that much. Ya said ya had money.”

“I didn’t say I had it. I said I know where to get it. And I do.”

“You’ll not be gettin’ any more from your pa. That’s certain.”

“I’ll never ask that tight-ass for another dime. There’s folks along this highway just sitting there askin’ for their money to be took.”

“And there’s police along this road just waiting for them that take it. We was lucky back at that campground. I still ain’t figured why that sheriff let us go.”

“We didn’t rob anybody, that’s why. He couldn’t arrest us ’cause someone
thought
we was goin’ to rob them. ’Sides, he took our guns. The asshole will sell ’em and make a little extra money. All them lawmen are crooked as a snake’s back. But I’m well-heeled. I got me a shotgun in the rumble seat and a forty-five right here in my coat pocket.”

“Well, I don’t want to tangle with that cowboy. He don’t look like he’s got no quit a-tall. He’s all yours.”

“I ain’t no fool. I won’t go against him head-on. When his tires get slashed, he ain’t goin’ to know who done it. When he gets bashed in the head some dark night, he ain’t goin’ to know who done it. When I screw the eyeballs out of that blonde, he ain’t goin’ to know who done it.”

“You better hope he don’t. You can get yoreself killed screwin’ a woman who don’t want to be screwed.”

“Ah, shit! I’ve screwed plenty a women that didn’t want it. I put the fear in ’em, and they never let out a peep ’bout it after I got done with ’em.”

“He might not care if ya screw her eyeballs out.”

“He’ll care. He stopped and patted her up the night he went to get the rope to tie us up. He’d care even if he didn’t like her. Big, upstanding man like him has got to be a hero.”

“Do as you want, but I ain’t rapin’ no women.”

“Ain’t ya got the balls for it no more,
Uncle
Chester?”

“I ain’t wantin’ my neck stretched.”

“I’m goin’ to do whatever’ll piss off that cowboy the most before I bash his head in. He ain’t gettin’ away with what he done to me. I aim to see that he pays.” Homer’s young face turned hard.

He didn’t shit in your pants. You did.

Chester had always known his sister’s oldest boy was wild. Now he wondered if he wasn’t a little crazy. Robbing a store was one thing; wanting to kill someone was another. This was the first he’d heard him talk about raping and killing. It made him nervous. He took a drink out of a quart fruit jar that sat on the seat beside him. His face twisted.

“Where did you get this rotgut anyway?”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with this rotgut. It kicks like a mule. It’s supposed to.”

“We’re passing Fort Reno, Rusty,” Grace said. “This is where they break and train wild horses for the army. My, my. There must be a hundred horses in that field. All kinds: pintos, roans, buckskins, blacks, browns, all colors but pink. All look to me like range horses. Course, I ain’t never seen a range horse but once. That poor thing was wilder than a turpentined cat. They got good fence around the fields so the stock can’t get out. There’s men on horseback bringin’ in another batch.”

Grace continued to talk, painting pictures with words for Rusty. “Lots of buildings here, big barns and quarters for the men. Pretty place, trees and bushes a-growing along the walks. Oh, my, there’s two cowboys right there by the fence holdin’ on to a mule that’s buckin’ like crazy.

“What do you reckon they’re doin’, Alvin?”

“I ain’t knowin’, sugar foot. But I bet they be knowin’.”

“Did you see that, Alvin? That cowboy was a-holdin’ on to that mule’s ear with his teeth!”

“Doggone if he wasn’t.”

“Phew! Bet a dirty old ear wouldn’t taste good!”

“Sure is flat country out here in west Oklahoma,” Alvin commented after they passed the fort. “Not at all like our hills back home.”

“Out here is where they’re having the dust storms,” Rusty said. “I can kind of smell dust in the air.”

“I hope we don’t have one while we’re passin’ through. There’s a cloud bank in the southwest. Could be bad weather is comin’ this way.”

Alvin took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at his wife and son. He was a lucky man. They were his life. He’d do whatever he had to do to give them a better future in California. He felt sorry for Foley, the poor bastard. He would never know love and contentment with that baggage he married.

“You’ve been quiet, son. Have you got something on your mind?”

“No, Ma. Well, yes. I’m thinking about a song I’m writing. The lines ‘They are blind that will not see, none so blind as a man like me,’ keep going over and over in my mind. I’m trying to put them in a song.”

“Oh, son,” Grace exclaimed. “That’s not like you. It’s so sad.”

“Folks like sad songs now’days, Ma. The chorus will go something like this:

“Come back, love, to my eager arms.

Come back, love, with your magic charms.

Give me hope or I’ll change to stone,

Give me love or I’ll die alone.”

When he finished singing, Grace grabbed his arm. “That was beautiful. Wasn’t it, Alvin? It just made me want to cry.”

Rusty laughed. “A good song should make you laugh, cry, or put you in a romantic mood. I’m working on another song. The words will be something like this:

“Though my heart is sometimes heavy,

My blind eyes filled with tears,

I only have to know you’re near,

And my heartache disappears.”

“That’s pretty too. Have you picked out a tune to go with it?” Grace asked.

“Not yet.”

“What are you going to call it?” Alvin asked.

“I’ve not decided, but I may call the first one ‘What I See.’ I’ve not decided a title for the second one.”

“Call it ‘Mona,’ ” Alvin teased.

“Alvin!”

“It’s all right, Ma. That’s not a bad idea. I’ll tell her you said so, Pa.”

“She’s pretty. Not a painted-up hussy like her pa married.” Grace sent a sideways glance at her son. “Pretty brown hair and eyes and a sweet girl—”

“You don’t have to sell me, Ma. Brady already told me.”

“Now, when did he do that?”

“While I was riding with him. We had some good talks. Brady knows a lot about a lot of things.”

“I thought he was gettin’ sweet on Margie. But when I mentioned her this morning, he turned colder than a North Pole well driller. Didn’t say another word.”

“He was all right with her last night,” Alvin said.

“Poor girl. I pity her having to ride all day beside that grouchy father of hers.” Grace shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Never did see a pair like ’em. You’d think he’d be proud as punch to have a pretty girl like her for a daughter.”

“Well, he ain’t. Margie told me last night that she didn’t even know him very well.”

“What will she do when she gets to California?” There was concern in Rusty’s voice. “She surely won’t stay with him.”

In the truck behind them Margie was worrying about the same thing. What would she do when they reached Bakersfield? She still had to get down to Los Angeles if she was going to see the Hollywood she had dreamed about for so long. She had looked it up on the map. It was a little more than a hundred miles from Bakersfield. If she couldn’t get a ride, she’d have to take the bus, which would take a big bite out of the money she had saved to live on.

Would she be able to get a job that paid enough to support her? She had only enough money for a couple of weeks if prices weren’t high. Surely she could find a job in that length of time. One thing was sure: She’d lie down on the highway and let the cars drive over her before she’d ask Elmer for help.

All morning he had ignored her as if she weren’t there, just as he had done for the past week. When he stopped for gas, he came out of the filling station drinking a bottle of orange soda pop. When the bottle was empty, he put it on the floor and pushed it under the seat.

Brady had been a dark blot on her mind all day. The humiliation of hearing her father tell him she was a whore paled in comparison to having Brady treat her like one. Seeing the cowboys on the horses as they passed Fort Reno brought to mind the fact that Brady wouldn’t stay long in California. He would dump Anna Marie on her Aunt Opal and be gone despite his pretending to care for the child.

He had seemed to like and respect her at first. And she had liked him … a little too much. It was going to take all the courage she could rake up to endure the rest of the trip knowing that he and Elmer believed her to be a thief and a woman of loose morals.

Well, what did she care? She was going to Hollywood.

But she did care. She cared a lot.

Brady had said for her to hold up her head and if anyone gave her any sass to spit in their eye.

Oh, Lord, she hoped that she would be able to do that when they camped at Deke’s. She would never spit at anyone, but she prayed that she would be able to hold up her head.

Deke Bales was a little man who wore cowboy boots and a big hat. He had been in love with Leona, the woman who lived in the house beside the garage and took care of Andy Connors’s girls. While Andy was in the hospital, a big Texan took over the garage and he and Leona fell in love. When Andy got out of the hospital, Yates took him, Leona and the girls to his ranch in Texas.

Margie hoped that they were happy.

The day passed slowly. They paused only briefly at noon because they wanted to get to Deke’s before other campers occupied the campground. They passed Weatherford, Clinton and a little place called Foss. When they reached Elk City, Margie knew that they were close.

After leaving Elk City they began to see the signs:
CAR TROUBLE? NEED GAS? DEKE’S GARAGE AHEAD. A big yellow sign with black letters read SEE THE WORLD’S LARGEST RATTLESNAKE. DEKE’S GARAGE AHEAD
. Another read
SEE TRAINED BUFFALO AND THREE-LEGGED CHICKEN. CAMPGROUND FOR A FEW GOOD FOLKS.

When they came up over the hill and Margie glimpsed the nest of small buildings beside the highway, she became misty-eyed. Beside the garage was the house with porches on front and back, a small barn and shed behind it and a privy to the side. As they neared, she could see the campground.