Rio Loco (7 page)

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Authors: Robert J. Conley

BOOK: Rio Loco
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He looked more than a little put out, but he went and read it out loud anyhow. “The judge is detained in Frog Gulley. Stop. Will be in Asininity a week late. Stop. That's it.”

I come up outta my chair real fast. “A week late,” I roared. “Goddamn it. He can't do that to me. A week late.” I picked up my glass and drained it down. Then I picked up the bottle and refilled the glass. I dropped back down into my chair real heavylike. Ever'body in the room come a-gethering around me.

“What's the matter with that, Barjack?” Peester said.

“That means we have to hold out here against Chugwater and his army for a whole damn two weeks,” I said.

“Well,” he said, “do your best,” and he turned to head back out the door. “I'll be back when this entire unpleasantness is over with.” He slammed the door behint him as he left.

“I wish you'da kilt him, Pistol,” I said.

“It was you that stopped me,” she said.

“Don't remind me.”

“Barjack,” said Churkee, “how are we going to hold out in here for another whole week? We haven't even got through the first week yet.”

“We can do it,” I said, not hardly believing my own words. “We'll have to go out and stock up on some stuff. Food. Ammunition. Tobacco.”

“Some soap,” said Polly.

“Okay,” I said. “Ever'body think on what we'll need, and we'll make out a list.”

We got the list all made out, and then Polly said, “Who's going to go out and fetch all that stuff?”

“I think you'll go,” I answered her. “I don't think Chugwater and his boys'll shoot a gal.”

“All right,” she said. “Who'll set here with this shotgun?”

“Churkee,” I said, and Churkee walked up to her and tuck the gun. She got up outta her chair and he set down in it. I scribbled out a note authorizing Polly to charge up all the stuff on the list at whatever store she had to go into to get it, and she tuck off. I settled back down to wait. I had put
extry bottles a' whiskey on the list right at the top with a note to get it from the Hooch House, and I had put ceegars down and then I had put dynamite. A bunch a' sticks, and a box a' matches. I remembered how I had done near blowed up the whole town a-getting them Bensons that one time. I would do it again if it were called for.

By God, it weren't long before Bonnie come a-hollering at the front door, and we let her in, and she had some men with her a carrying a goddamn bathing tub. They set it down in the empty cell, and she sent them out to lug pails a' hot water in.

“What the hell is this all about?” I said.

“Polly said that some folks in here sure needed a bath,” she said. “She had bought some soap, but said you needed a tub. Here's the soap. I brung it along.”

“Where's Polly?” I said.

“She's still a-shopping,” Bonnie said. “You give her a long list.”

“It weren't all that long,” I said.

“She had to stop at the Hooch House,” Bonnie said, “and at the general store. I seen that list. It was long.”

“All right,” I said. “I guess it were.”

I didn't want to get into no fight with Bonnie right there in front a' all a' my depitties and even ole Owl Shit, so I just agreed with her and shut the hell up. “Well, anyhow,” I said, “I don't need that damn thing. I just had me a bath.”

Bonnie looked over at me and smiled, a sickening, sweet smile, and I give her a grin in return.

“You can hang a blanket up on the bars there,”
she said, “and it'll be almost like having a private bathroom. Where you keep your blankets, Barjack?”

“In the back room,” I said.

She waddled back there and come out in another minute with a stack a' blankets in her arms, and she went over to the cell and went to hanging them up. And by God, she was right. She damn near made a private bathroom right there in my jailhouse. Then she reached down between her great big tits and hauled out that bottle a' bubbly stuff and went and poured some in the water.

“Now,” she said, stepping back out into the office, “I suggest that you nasty ole men wait till Miss Polly returns and let her use the water first. Then you can take your turns.”

“They'll wait,” I said.

“I had me a bath just a few weeks ago,” Butcher said.

“You'll get another one today,” said Bonnie.

Butcher looked at me with a kinda pleading look, and I looked back at him kinda sternlike and I nodded my head. Well, here come Polly, and she hollered out her name and come on in and put the stuff all on my desk. Bonnie told her that her bath was ready and showed her into the cell. Well, Polly were pretty damn thrilled. Then Bonnie tuck a chair and set her ass down on it right where someone coulda walked to take a peek around the blanket that was a-hanging there, and she pulled out her little Merwin Hulbert thirty-two caliber what I had got for her.

“The first man what walks over thissaway,” she said, “is going to get shot.”

Ever'one moved back the other way. Whenever Pistol Polly final got outta the tub and got herself dressed up again, she tuck the shotgun back from Churkee and told him to take a turn in the tub. He never had to be told twice. He went right in there, and then Bonnie and Polly went to fixing us up some good sandwiches with part a' what Polly had brung back from her shopping trip. She even tuck one in to Churkee so he could eat while he was in the water.

By and by, he come out and he was all dried and dressed. I looked at Butcher. “Harvey,” I said, “I think it's your turn now.”

“Aw, Barjack—”

“Go on,” I said, and so he stomped his ass on into the cell behint the blankets.

“It ain't fair, you calling me that name when you won't even tell me what yours is,” he yelled. I heared him splashing into the water.

“There ain't nothing wrong with Harvey,” I said. “It's a perfect good name. I think I knowed someone else who was called by that name once. Harvey.”

Chapter Seven

We all of us slept around in the jail that night except for either Happy or Butcher, one of which had to stay up on the roof at all times. I didn't want none of ole Chugwater's boys a-sneaking up on us, so I made 'em do that all night. It musta been somewheres around midnight when I and ever'one else was awoke rudely by a loud and raspy voice a-calling out, “Hey, in there. Don't shoot. Let me in. It's Bonnie.” Well, I set up right quick and I seen Pistol Polly a-walking to the door to open it up. Bonnie come flouncing in, and Polly shut the door behint her and latched it again. I was on a cot in the extra cell, and I set up straight as a supporting pole for the roof overhang.

“Bonnie,” I said, “what the hell are you a-doing here?”

She come a-running into the cell and grabbed me around with both a' her arms and squished me real damn good. “Barjack,” she said, “I was worried about you and missing you something fierce.”

“Hell,” I said, “I'm okay over here. There weren't no need for you to come all the way down here like that.”

“I want to stay here with you,” she said, “just in case something was to happen.”

“There ain't no need for that.”

“Just in case some a' Chugwater's boys was to show up,” she said. “I want to be with you.”

I seen then that she was a-wearing, hanging over her shoulder, the gun belt I had give her with her thirty-two-caliber Merwin Hulbert in the holster. She meant to be ready for anything what might come up. I mean, that woman weren't a-skeered a' nothing a'tall. I couldn'ta done myself no better than have that there woman. She woulda tuck on a grizzler bear for me, I know it. She of a sudden pulled my face right toward her own and give me a big, sloppy smack on the lips. “I love you, Barjack,” she said.

I kinda looked around to see that ever'one else had done dropped back off to sleep before I give her a answer, and then I said, “I love you too, sweet swaying hips.” Then she laid me back down and undid my britches. “Bonnie,” I said, “there's a mess a' folks in here.”

“They're all asleep,” she said, “and it's dark.”

Then she hiked up her skirts and set right down on me and give me a hell of a romp right there in the jail cell. The blankets was still hanging up from the baths earlier, so I guess it was all right after all. When she was done with me, I needed me a drink a' brown whiskey.

“I'll fetch it for you, Barjack,” she said. “I know where you keep it.”

She paddle-footed outta the cell and on over to my desk, where she opened up the drawer and
got out my bottle and a tumbler. She poured me a drink and brung it back into the cell and give it to me. I tuck me a big swaller right off. Then she tuck the glass back from me and had her own self a swig. I was glad to see her drinking right instead a' that pink swill she usual drunk. We finished off that glass in a hurry, and Bonnie tuck it back to my desk to refill it. By and by we snuggled down to sleep, and she mashed me up against the wall on that narrow little jail cell cot. I couldn't hardly breathe, I tell you.

Well, I guess it was about six or maybe seven when I final woked up, but I couldn't hardly see no way to get up off a' the cot without bothering Bonnie, and she sure as hell did not like to be bothered in the morning a'tall. In fact, that were the way I had learnt to fly that time. I had woked her up one morning and made her so mad she had picked me up by my collar and my belt and carried me out to the landing at the top a' the stairs in the Hooch House and flung me out into space over the saloon. And I had flow, I'm here to tell you. I didn't land none too good, but I had learnt to fly for sure.

Anyway, I wriggled around, but ever' way I tried I just got Bonnie's fat against me in some other way. I seemed to be helt down good. Well, I scruggled around till I got my ass set up at last, but my legs was still pinned down. I looked at her all snuggled down and sleeping peaceful-like, and I jerked my right leg up and out. I couldn't see no way out of it but to throw that leg over Bonnie, so I done it. Then I laid still for a spell to make sure that I hadn't woke her. She was still a-sawing
logs. So I brung my other leg up and over. Then there weren't nothing for it but to pull myself up to where I was a-setting right on her and then to slide off on the far side, so I done that, but I done it real slow, and I never woked her up neither.

When I was final a-standing on dry ground with my two feet, I stood there real still and looked down at her for a spell. I couldn't see that I had disturbed her none a'tall. She were a deep sleeper, that's for sure. I picked up my tumbler from where we had dropped it and went out to my desk for a refill a' whiskey. I dranked it down in a record time a-setting back behint my desk. I think ever'one else in there was still fast asleep, and I never before in my life had heared such a cacophony a' snoring. (I learnt that there word from ole Dingle. I like to use it when I can.)

I stood up and farted a big fart, but it never woke up no one. I thunk about pouring out for myself another good glass full a' whiskey, but I never. Instead I went out the front door and looked over the mainest street of Asininity. It looked quiet all right. I didn't see no one out on the street. Course, it were early in the morning. The Hooch House was all closed up, I knowed. I walked out in the middle a' the street and looked up on the roof a' the jailhouse. I seen Happy a-setting up there looking out over the town and a-holding a Winchester rifle. “Happy,” I called out to him

He looked down at me. “What, Barjack?”

“Is ever'thing as quiet as it looks to be?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You ain't seen no cowhands come a-riding in from any direction?”

“Nary a one.”

“Well, that's good,” I said.

“Barjack?”

“What, ole pard?”

“Ain't my time about up here?”

“I reckon it is. I'll go chase out Butcher.”

I went back inside after hollering out my name. When I stepped in, wasn't no one threatening me. I looked around the room, and I seen Butcher sprawled out on the floor a-snoring. I walked over to where he was at and give him a swift kick in the ass. He jumped up, real surprised. His eyes was real big. “What? What?” he said.

“I'd say it was about time you went up on top and spelled ole Happy for a while.”

“Oh. Right. I'm on my way, Barjack.”

He struggled on up to his feet, found his hat, and pulled it down tight. Then he headed out the front door. He was wearing his six-gun, but he didn't take no rifle with him. He would take the rifle Happy had up there. Whenever he went out, he slammed the door and woked up near ever'one else. They all went to moaning around and stretching and such. In another minute Happy come in, and he went right over to the coffeepot and commenced building a pot a' coffee. I don't rightly know just what it was that I had in my mind to do with myself, but the thought a' that coffee got to me in a big way. I wanted some real bad, so I just went back behint my desk and set down to wait.

It turned out to be a long wait, so I went and poured myself another whiskey. I was a-thinking about the big bad fight what was most likely coming our way. I recalled the big fights what I'd had in the past ever since I had become town marshal a' Asininity. I even thunk way back to the first big fight I'd had. The one with the damn Bensons. And it come to me that I had whipped them largely on account a' I had used dynamite. I had blowed their asses all over town. It come to me then that just in case it turned out to be real bad, I'd ought to have me some dynamite. “Happy,” I said, “how long is it before that coffee is ready to be drunk?”

“Aw, I don't know, Barjack. It'll be a few minutes yet.”

I got up and went back outside. I stopped for a minute on the boardwalk and looked up and down the street. It still looked clear. I walked on down to the hardware store and asked the ole bastard what run it if he had some dynamite. He did have, and so I told him I needed me about six sticks. He brought it out, and I tucked them into my inside coat pockets. “Send the goddamn bill to pettifoggin' Peester,” I said, and I walked on out again.

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