Texasville (36 page)

He felt sure that Karla, for one, would not be able to resist a nice green lawn, and if he could just get Karla back, on a more or less regular basis, the others would eventually follow.

He finally got the sprinkler going and drove into town, wishing he had Shorty to talk to, or at least look at. He was supposed to help Eddie Belt and some other volunteers string centennial banners across the main street, but no volunteers were in evidence so he went to his office and sat in silence for a while.

A glance at the oil news was not reassuring. So little drilling was in progress that a glance allowed him to grasp not only the main developments, but all the developments. He found himself wondering if the legendary C. L. Sime had returned from Norway yet, or if he had even gone. He had the nervous feeling that the old man’s enthusiasm for his well-typed proposal might have waned, and that no millions would be forthcoming from Odessa.

The nervous feeling made him feel restless, so he got in his
pickup and drove out to Suzie Nolan’s house, but well before he got there he saw Dickie’s pickup parked in front. Duane made a U-turn and drove back into Thalia, feeling disappointed. There was no getting around the fact that Suzie Nolan was very pleasant to be in bed with. Though he was feeling well disposed toward Dickie, it seemed a little unfair that a twenty-one-year-old should be getting such a high percentage of what pleasure was available around Thalia.

The Dairy Queen was deserted, but the main intersection in front of the courthouse was packed with people. As Duane parked, he saw a body lying on the sidewalk. Bobby Lee was standing over the body, fanning it with his sombrero. Meanwhile Ruth and Jenny, evidently indifferent to the body, were up on tall stepladders, trying to string a centennial banner between two light poles.

Duane walked over and saw that the body was Lester Mar-low’s. Janine sat beside him on the pavement, chewing gum and holding his hand. Toots Burns, the sheriff, was also there.

Toots, a lifelong bachelor, had recently startled the electorate by marrying the runaway girl who had strayed into Thalia thinking she was in Georgia.

Lester had his eyes open, but he wasn’t moving.

“Lester tried to commit suicide,” Bobby Lee said, in the same reasonable tones with which he had announced the arrival of Libyan terrorists.

“He did not, you can’t prove it, shut up,” Janine said.

Bobby Lee, who was sporting a promising black eye, looked unhappy. Any challenge to his statements always caused his confidence to slide.

“Well, he dove off the stepladder,” he said.

“He
fell
off the stepladder,” Janine insisted.

Lester’s wife, Jenny, tying a banner right over her husband’s head, sided with Janine.

“He probably fell,” she said. “I don’t think he knows how to dive.”

Duane squatted down by Lester, who was politely staying out of the controversy about his own recent fall.

“Howdy,” Duane said. “How do you feel?”

“I’d like to go to the quiet room,” Lester said. “Sonny’s gone to get the ambulance.”

“How come you to fall off the ladder?” Duane asked.

“I was thinking about having to sit on that board with the water underneath me and the next thing I knew I fell,” Lester said.

With true civic spirit, Lester had agreed to take the least popular job in the whole centennial. He was going to sit in a cage over a tank of water all day. For a quarter people could throw baseballs at a trip-board, and if they hit it Lester would be plunged into the water. Since he was the bank president he was thought to be the victim most likely to produce an unending flow of quarters. All the people nearing bankruptcy could take out their frustrations by trying to duck the bank president.

“I only like to swim in heated pools,” Lester said.

“That ambulance probably won’t even start,” Janine said cheerfully. She seemed to be enjoying the crisis.

“I could just walk to the quiet room,” Lester said. “It’s only three blocks.”

“No, no,” Bobby Lee said. “Your neck might be broken.”

Duane asked Lester to move his fingers and lift his leg. Lester not only moved his fingers, he pretended he was typing on an invisible word processor. He typed rapidly.

“His neck isn’t broken,” Duane said. “Let him walk if he wants to.”

Lester got up and he and Janine ambled down the street hand in hand.

Jenny Marlow was having trouble pulling the banner tight. She climbed down the ladder and Duane climbed up to finish the job. Ruth watched his efforts critically from her perch on the other ladder, across the street. Despite Duane’s efforts, the banner continued to droop. The crowd watched and offered advice. The consensus was that it was a very droopy banner and would not encourage travelers to stop, buy souvenirs and enjoy the centennial.

“If I saw a banner hanging down like that I’d stomp on the gas pedal and keep on going,” one old man said.

“It won’t be there long, anyway,” another old-timer allowed. “The first truck that comes through with a rig on it will tear it right down. It’s too low.”

Duane stopped and looked down at the crowd. It was, it seemed to him, a typical, thankless Thalia crowd.

“Anybody who thinks they can do better is welcome to my job,” he said.

Eddie Belt, whose job it was supposed to have been anyway, drove up and parked.

“Haven’t you two got that banner up yet?” he asked nonchalantly.

Duane stopped working. He climbed up a step or two and sat on the top of the ladder, gesturing to Ruth to do the same. Ruth climbed up and sat on the top of her ladder, too.

“If we ain’t appreciated, why should we work?” he asked, looking over at Ruth, who sat inscrutably on her ladder. She gave no indication that she was in sympathy with his sentiment. She might simply have been resting.

From the top of the ladder Duane could see to the far ends of the town. No cars were in sight, no tourists turning back in annoyance. Across the street, Richie Hill was putting the finishing touches on the replica of Old Texasville. He was painting the brand-new shack with a paint called Antique Gray. Buster Lickle had selected the color, which he said was very close to that of the authentic Texasville boards he had kicked up.

“This is a hell of a way to spend a day,” Eddie Belt remarked, though he seemed quite happy to be spending his so pleasantly.

“Duane’s getting touchy,” Jenny remarked to the crowd. “I can’t open my mouth anymore without hurting his feelings.”

“It serves him right, he’s hurt my feelings a million times,” Bobby Lee said.

Duane thought he saw a familiar car approaching at a high speed from the east. Scarcely a minute later Karla edged her BMW through the crowd and stopped right under the banner. Her spirits seemed to have improved.

“Momma’s on a tear,” she said, looking up at Duane. “I guess I better go out there for a few days and see if I can quiet her down.”

Karla’s mother lived in Pecos, Texas, far to the west.

“She’s been on a tear ever since I’ve known the family,” Duane said. “What’d she do now? Murder, arson, rape or what?”

“Very funny, Duane,” Karla said, taking off her sunglasses. “If you stop to wonder why I’m not around the house anymore, just remind yourself of jokes like that.

“What are you doing up there, anyway?” she asked.

“Right now I’m just sitting,” he said. “I might become a stepladder sitter. What’d your momma really do?”

The crowd, indifferent to their domestic discussion, began to drift off. Only Bobby Lee, Eddie and Jenny hung around.

“She ran Casey off,” Karla said. Casey was her mother’s long-suffering boyfriend.

“Uh-oh,” Duane said.

“That’s right,” Karla said. “If I don’t get out there and patch things up she might decide she wants to move in with us. I don’t think we want that to happen.”

“You’re not there, why would you care?” Duane asked.

Karla laughed. “You miss having a slave around, don’t you?” she said.

Duane laughed too.

“If I ever had a slave I’m sure I’d miss it if it left,” he said. “I just wouldn’t know what a slave looked like.”

“Men don’t understand the slavery issue,” Jenny said. It was clear to Duane that she had been dying to chime in.

“They don’t realize how much they get out of us in a normal day,” she added. “Just casually. They don’t even need to ask. We do things for them as if it was their right.”

“Yeah, things like slipping poison in the iced tea, things like spending all the money we work our asses off to make,” Bobby Lee said. “Things like leaving hairs in the bathtub.”

Karla looked at him and grinned.

“My goodness, you’re a sensitive little thing,” she said. “Do hairs in the bathtub upset you?”

“They sure do, it makes me want to puke to see a bunch of wet hairs in the bathtub,” Bobby Lee said.

“Is it just pussy hairs that bother you or any kind of hair?” Karla asked. “This is Karla asking.”

“It’s just hairs,” Bobby Lee said. “Ugly old hairs.”

“Where’d you get the black eye?” she asked.

Bobby Lee, who had seemed on the verge of having a fit, calmed down and resumed his reasonable tone of voice.

“You probably won’t believe this, but a big slimy bullfrog jumped out of a tree and landed right in my eye,” he said.

Karla laughed.

“You’re quick on your feet, aren’t you?” she said.

“Survival of the fittest,” Bobby Lee said.

Eddie Belt laughed caustically at the notion that Bobby Lee was the fittest.

Ruth began to jerk the banner up and down.

“Let’s finish this job and go make ourselves useful elsewhere,” she said.

“It really just needs to be a little higher,” Jenny Marlow said, surveying the banner’s droop.

Karla looked up at Duane. “’Bye, Duane,” she said.

“’Bye, Karla, have a nice trip,” Duane said.

“Don’t you get in a lot of trouble that won’t be good for you while I’m gone,” Karla said.

“I may just sit here on this stepladder the whole time,” Duane said. “It’s peaceful up here and I can watch the drought spread.”

Karla blew him a little kiss with her fingers. Duane made a smooching sound. A minute later the BMW was out of sight to the west.

CHAPTER 52

S
ONNY HAD RUSHED TO THE HOSPITAL TO GET THE
ambulance but on the way had forgotten why he needed the ambulance. He was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, looking embarrassed, when Lester and Janine walked in. As soon as she got Lester settled in the quiet room, Janine came back and reported this fact to Duane, who had exerted himself in the meanwhile, pulling the banner so tight that it showed not the slightest sign of droop.

“He’s just not the same old Sonny,” Janine said.

“What if he forgets the Gettysburg Address?” Jenny said. “It could ruin the whole pageant.”

Duane knew he ought to go do something about Sonny, but he felt resistant. He didn’t know what to do about Sonny, and he didn’t want to be the one who had to do anything about him.

To his surprise, Ruth Popper came to his aid.

“Never mind, Duane,” she said. “There’s no reason you should have to do everything in this town. Go on and have a nice day.”

Just at that point they all noticed a struggle on the court-house
lawn. The beardless Joe Coombs had stopped to make a call from the pay phone on the corner. Bobby Lee and Eddie Belt, who exhibited no interest in going to work, decided to put the new ducking law into effect on the spot. They rushed Joe and attempted to throw him in the horse trough where beardless males were to be ducked.

But Joe Coombs proved to be a scrapper. Though beardless, he was far from muscleless. It soon became clear that Bobby and Eddie would be lucky to get him ducked.

A few roughnecks, passing through town, stopped to watch.

“See, the banner’s up,” Duane said to the roughnecks. He was proud of his handiwork, but the roughnecks ignored the banner and sat watching the fight.

“Help us, Duane,” Bobby Lee yelled. “This man don’t want to obey the law.”

Joe Coombs held Eddie Belt down with his foot and pitched Bobby Lee into the horse trough. Then he picked Eddie up and threw him in as well. The roughnecks applauded and honked their horns. Joe walked over and made his call.

“That little Joe Coombs is a strong one,” Janine said, a cheerful light in her eye.

Bobby and Eddie crawled out of the horse trough looking thoroughly mortified.

“He don’t obey the rules,” Bobby Lee said. “He was supposed to be the duckee, not the ducker.”

“Whose idea was it to make a law that you had to duck people?” Eddie said. “We’ll never live this down. We might as well move to Lubbock.”

“I
am
moving to Lubbock,” Bobby Lee said. “I’m gonna start packing right now.”

“If it’s not asking too big a favor, check by the rig on your way west,” Duane said.

The two men drove off without making any promises.

Duane went to his rig and worked all day. It was hot, but he found that he preferred being out of town to being in town.

The pageant rehearsal that night was listless compared to the first rehearsal. The new had worn off so quickly that only about half as many people showed up.

Jenny had made a few script changes. Duane, in his role as
George Washington, no longer had to throw a silver dollar across the arena. That had been scratched because of the danger that the silver dollar might hit somebody. Instead, Duane was to cross the icy Delaware in a boat.

Duane pointed out that the dusty rodeo arena did not look much like an icy river.

“And if it did, how would I get across it?” he asked.

“Oh, Duane, you can just be in a motorboat,” Jenny said. “Somebody can pull it around the arena behind a pickup. Don’t be literal. Use your imagination a little.”

“I am using it,” Duane assured her. “I’m using it to imagine how damn silly I’ll look being pulled around the arena in a motorboat.”

“Stop complaining, Duane,” Jacy said. “I’ve had to do sillier things than that in a movie.”

She had come in right on time, bringing his dog and his children. She sat on the grass studying a hymnal. Barbette wiggled and kicked on a blanket at her feet. Little Mike indulged in an orgy of climbing, going over the fence and then climbing right back over.