by Donis Casey
“So where are we going?” I asked.
Gee Dub looked over at me. “Walter told Alice he was headed out to the Rusty Horseshoe for an hour or two. Mama said that was just after noon. She’s pretty het up about it.”
“I’d hate to be in Walter’s shoes,” I said, and Gee Dub shrugged.
“Mama never did hold a high opinion of the way he does Alice, but I never heard Alice complain about it.”
I have to admit I was a mite shocked, but amused, too. Mr. Dills, who owns the Rusty Horseshoe a ways out west of town, calls his place a dance hall, but the rumor was that there was a back room where you could play a game of cards and bend your elbow at the same time, even on a Sunday, which made it doubly illegal. The county sheriff raided the place on occasion, but otherwise let things be unless there was bloodshed. I told Gee Dub that I had ridden by there, but since the roadhouse was out of Scott’s bailiwick, I’d never yet darkened the door or even met Mr. Dills.
There was a grin in Gee Dub’s voice when he answered me. “I can’t say I frequent the place, but I don’t expect I’m entirely unknown there, either. Don’t tell my folks, but me and my cousins Jimmy Tucker and Joe Cecil have let our curiosity get the better of us on more than one occasion.”
We retrieved our mounts and headed out on the farm road that led toward the town of Morris, if two wagon ruts could be called a road. It was near to half-past five of a Sunday afternoon, and the trail was deserted. It took us maybe half an hour to reach the place. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary house sitting all by itself by the side of the road. The front door and all the windows were open and I could hear music and laughing inside. Several horses were hitched at the side of the building and one auto parked in front.
The place was dim, hot, and loud. Several disreputable-looking couples slouched around the dance floor in the center of the room. A piano player was pounding out a ragtime tune, and a country fiddler was scratching along. The cigarette smoke was thick. A game of cards was going on at one of the tables around the edge of the dance floor, and I seen a spirited game of dominoes at another, which tickled me no end.
“I’ll be danged,” I said to Gee Dub. “There’s Mr. Turner who owns the livery over there playing dominoes, and Ed Chandler who works for your uncle James at the cotton gin. Don’t see Walter, though.” I took off my old Stetson and beat it against my leg. “I see some coffee mugs and a couple of glasses of lemonade. Do you suppose we’ve stumbled into a Sunday school class?”
Gee Dub laughed. “I reckon Mr. Dills may provide special refreshment for those who swear an undying oath of secrecy.” He gestured with his chin toward a closed door to the right of the bar. “Yonder is the place.” He shot me a sly look along his shoulder. “So I hear.”
“I never suspected you of firsthand knowledge, partner.”
“I’m guessing that my lost brother-in-law is in there, so I’ll see if I can gain entrance. You being a lawman, you can wait out here for me. Enjoy a hand of dominoes.”
“I believe I’m man enough to handle the sight of whatever is behind that door, so if it’s all the same to you, I’ll go with you.”
“Come on ahead, then.”
We made our way to the bar and elbowed a space for ourselves. I lifted a boot to the foot rail and draped myself over the bar. “Barkeep, how’s a fellow go about obtaining a beer?”
The bartender gave me a long, narrow, once-over. “We don’t deal in alcohol here, mister. If a sarsaparilla or a ginger ale don’t fit the bill, I suggest you take yourself off to a gin joint.”
“Evening, Mr. Dills,” Gee Dub said. “I’d like for you to meet my friend Trent from Boynton.” His voice sounded like it had bubbles in it since he was trying not to laugh.
The expression on Dills’ face changed like magic when he recognized who was talking. “Well, howdy, Gee Dub. I didn’t get a good look at you in the dark. I ain’t seen you in a while.” He turned back toward me and extended his hand. “Always glad to see a friend of the Tuckers’.”
Gee Dub got down to business. “Me and Trent are here to find my sister’s husband Walter Kelley. Seems he’s about to be a daddy.”
Dills’ eyebrows shot skyward. “Is that so?”
“It is,” Gee Dub confirmed. “I don’t see him here, Mr. Dills. Is there someplace else around here I might look for him?”
Dills picked up a glass and commenced wiping it out with a bar rag. “Why don’t y’all have a seat in the back room? Knock twice and tell Dan I give you the high sign. Say it just like that.”
Walter Kelley
Dan let them into an airless room so full of smoke that they could hardly see. Gee Dub’s eyes were watering and he wiped away tears with the back of his hand. He had never had any particular inclination toward dissolute living, though when he was at school in Stillwater he enjoyed a night out with his friends as much as the next young man. But this speakeasy was a new experience for him and he was finding it extremely interesting.
They stood by the door for a moment trying to adjust to the atmosphere. There were only eight or ten people scattered about the three tables in the cramped room. A poker game was in progress at the center table. One of the other two tables was peopled with men enjoying both spirits and the company of loose women.
Trent felt his friend stiffen and looked over at him. “What is it?”
Gee Dub’s face was still as marble. He nodded toward the second table. When he spoke, Trent could barely hear him. “Yonder is my sister’s husband.”
Before Trent could react, Gee Dub strode across the room and planted himself in front of the seat of a good-looking man. The fellow had a shot glass in one hand and the other around a tastelessly clad woman who had made herself comfortable on his knee. He looked up at Gee Dub and his black eyes widened in consternation. The woman found herself unceremoniously dumped when Walter Kelley sprang to his feet.
“Gee Dub! What in the world are you doing here? Does your dad know what you’re up to?”
“I could ask the same question in regard to your wife. ’Course she’s busy at the moment bringing your child into the world.” GeeDub seemed relaxed and businesslike, but he took a step forward that put him uncomfortably close to Walter. Trent sighed and geared himself up for trouble. He hated to imagine what Mrs. Tucker would say if her boy came home with a black eye and a split lip. Of course if it was Walter who ended up with a split lip, that might be a different story.
Walter was a tall man, but his young brother-in-law easily matched him in height, he realized. “Now, Gee, it ain’t how it looks.” His tone was conciliatory. “I was just so worried about Alice that I had to take my mind off things for a bit.”
“Well, you’d better get your mind back on her, Walter. Baby’s on the way right now, and Alice wants you.”
Walter’s nervousness disappeared. “The baby’s coming?” He grabbed his hat up off the table and glanced at Trent, but was too distracted to register who he was looking at. “I’ve got my motorcar outside. Come on and we can all ride to the house together.”
“We rode out on horseback,” Gee Dub said. If he was implying that he didn’t want to be around Walter just at the moment, Walter didn’t get it.
“All right then. I’ll see you later.” He waved his hat around at the shadowy figures around the tables. “I’m going to be a daddy!” he cried. And he was gone, all consternation forgotten.
Trent laid a hand on Gee Dub’s shoulder. “Take a breath, now. I’m sure that woman made herself to home on his lap without invitation. It didn’t mean anything. He more than likely did come here just to relax a spell.”
“His timing is mighty bad, is all.” Gee Dub sat down in Walter’s vacated seat and heaved a sigh. The soiled dove hefted herself off the floor, bruised only in her ego, dusted herself off, and eyed the two young men with interest.
“What can I get y’all to drink?” she as
ked.
Trent took a step back. He could bust up fights and arrest abusive drunks without breaking a sweat, but speaking to a lady of easy virtue was beyond his ken. “Come on, Gee, let’s go.”
“Well, now, look who’s come to roll around in the mud with us pigs!” Jubal Beldon rose from his solitary seat at a corner table and whooped out a laugh. “If it ain’t Mr. College Boy Tucker. I enjoyed the show y’all put on with Kelley. But do you expect Dills knows you’ve brought the law down on him?” He indicated Trent with a nod.
Gee Dub stood up.
This is not good, Trent thought.
The room fell silent.
Jubal wasn’t finished. “I’m surprised you young fellers’ mommies let you out on a Sunday. Tired of singing hymns? Since you’re here, how about a punch in the gut and a couple of broken ribs?”
Trent stepped between them. “I didn’t come here to arrest anybody but I’ll reconsider that policy if you don’t shut up, Beldon. Come on, Gee Dub.”
Over the bar girl’s protest, Gee Dub turned without further comment and the two young men headed for the door. But Jubal wasn’t about to let the opportunity for mischief pass. “Hey, Tucker, did your sister tell you about our encounter on the road a couple of days ago?”
Trent turned around, his eyebrows rising. Encounter?
“Seems that snot-nose little tree-climber has got ripe all of a sudden. I think she’s about ready to pluck, and I may be just the man to do it.”
This time it was Trent’s reaction that caused the other people in the room to scoot out of the way, but Gee Dub managed to restrain him. “Calm down, Trent, he ain’t worth it. Think what Scott would say if Dills has us all arrested for riot and mayhem.”
Trent’s face was almost as red as his hair as his friend dragged him toward the door. They were halfway back to Boynton before either of them spoke.
“What do you expect he meant about Ruth?” Trent said.
“I don’t know, but I mean to ask her.”
“You figure the Beldons have taken to harassing her? I don’t like that.”
“I figure Jubal just said that to rile me,” Gee Dub speculated. “He likely didn’t know he’d be getting you all hot as well.”
“Well, I plan to keep an eye on her,” Trent declared.
Gee Dub’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “My guess is you planned to do that regardless, Deputy.”
Trent couldn’t tell whether Gee Dub’s tone held approval or disapproval, so he kept quiet. They rode on in silence as their horses picked their way around ruts in the road.
Jubal Beldon
After Gee Dub and Trent left the Rusty Horseshoe, Jubal sat at his table in the dark corner for another twenty minutes, nursing his drink and thinking.
He had always enjoyed having power over people. Especially them who thought they were so superior, who thought the Beldons were low-class, unworthy, ignorant hicks and yokels. Bedlam Boys indeed. His chest began to burn with indignation at the very thought. Well, if he couldn’t have their respect, he’d have their fear. So he weaseled out their secrets. He watched. He inferred. He put two and two together and came up with four.
And then he let them know what he knew. No, sir, you are not better than me. In fact, you are worse because you keep your perversions hid. But I know what you are.
And if what he intimated wasn’t so? Well, in a tight little town like Boynton, where everybody knew everybody else, rumor was as damaging as fact.
Fear was all he had ever demanded from anyone. Money hadn’t mattered to him so much. But here he sat with almost two hundred dollars in his pocket, and he hadn’t even asked for it. Maybe he had been missing a bet. Since his pa had died, the farm was his now. How much he could do with all his carefully amassed information. If he had enough money, enough land, a big house, and nice clothes they’d all respect him then.
He began to review his mental catalog of scandal. Perhaps there was time for one more productive session of extortion this evening.
Marva Welsh
Marva met her husband Coleman at the crossroads and they set off walking out of town together. Coleman’s father Marcus had owned the Welsh homestead since before there was a state of Oklahoma. Marcus was one of the many ex-slaves who had left the United States for the Indian Territory several years after the War of the Rebellion. After all, what sort of opportunity was there for a black man in Alabama? Even then the Indian Territory was full of towns that had been founded and built up exclusively by Negroes, mostly on land set aside by the native tribes especially for freed slaves. Marcus had found work in the all-black town of Twine, some ten or twelve miles north of where Boynton was being established. Then he moved south and began sharecropping for a well-to-do Creek farmer, and after a while he was able to buy sixty acres of land on Cane Creek. The old man was still there, nearly seventy years old, but very much the patriarch of his clan. Marva and Coleman lived out in the country, near the brick plant, but like the rest of the Welsh siblings, they made the trek out to Papa and Mama Welsh’s place for dinner every Sunday after church.
Marva and Coleman were going to be late today. They had both picked up work in Boynton on Sunday afternoon, so they missed the big family dinner. Heaven forfend they should not see the folks at all on Sunday, though, so the plan was to make it for supper and spend the night.
As they set out on the road, it was that half-light time of day, exactly between day and night, the time that Beckie would call the gloaming. While everything on the ground looked gray and smokey, the sky was a lurid variety of orange, fading to an iridescent pink; unnatural colors. Hard to tell what you were seeing, a few moments of illusion before the sunset. It was hot, windy, and muggy, but it was nice to spend the time together, so they enjoyed the walk along the hard-packed dirt farm road that led past fields of cotton, corn, melons, sunflowers as well as cattle, horses, and goats, eventually rejoining the graded road that led toward the town of Morris.
When they reached the turnoff, they were so deep in conversation that they didn’t see the rider approaching until it was almost too late to step out of the way.
Trenton Calder
Me and Gee Dub got out of the Rusty Horseshoe without any extra lumps and all our blood on the inside, but when we got back to town we were both still in a bad humor. Gee Dub more for his sister Alice’s sake, and me because of what Jubal Beldon said about Ruth. No man worth shooting mentions the name of a respectable woman in a bar. I didn’t aim to forget about it, either.
We stopped back by the Kelley place. Walter had made it back in record time, but there was no new arrival to greet him nor like to be for some hours, Miz Tucker told us. So Gee Dub headed home. Ruth allowed as to how it was getting late and she was pretty tired, so I offered to take her back to Miz MacKenzie’s for the night. That way she could walk back to Alice’s first thing and meet her new nevvy. Her ma thought that was a fine idea, so Ruth accepted.
I figured I’d leave old Brownie back of the Kelleys’ and walk Ruth the quarter mile up the road, but she said she didn’t fancy stumbling around in the dark. So I mounted up and she swung herself up behind me without a fuss, with her skirt runched up to her knees just like a girl who’s ridden double behind her brothers and daddy all her life. Which she was. Truth is, if she’d had her own mount she could have ridden circles around the likes of me, dark or no dark. I know this because she’s done it.
It was one of the best fifteen minute rides of my life. We talked all the way up to Miz MacKenzie’s, mostly about how excited she was to be going to Muskogee to study music. She said she would be staying with her daddy’s aunt, and when her course was over she figured she’d go to teaching piano on her own.
“You expect you’ll come back and take over Miz MacKenzie’s students?” I asked.
Her voice, coming warm over my shoulder, sounded happy. “I could if I wanted,” she told me. “Miz Beckie wa
nts me to. She’s already asked me. But I’ll have to see how I feel when the course is done. I might like living in the city!”
My heart sank to hear that, but I didn’t let on.
We couldn’t see any light in the MacKenzie house when we got there, which was no surprise considering the late hour. I rode around to the back and Ruth slid off from behind me. I dismounted to see her to the door in the dark. I went with her up onto the back porch but stopped when she turned around before letting herself into the house. I snatched off my hat and said goodnight, and she put her hand on my arm.
I can still feel it.
“Thanks for the ride, Trent. Come by Alice’s in the morning. I should have me a new niece or nephew by then.”
She went inside and closed the door, and I stood on the porch for a while, holding my hat to my chest. When I finally decided I’d stood there mooning like an idiot for long enough, I made my way back to Brownie and headed out. As I passed I noticed that the doors to the carriage house were standing open and Miz MacKenzie’s yellow-topped shay was gone, but at the time it didn’t mean anything to me.
Alafair Tucker
When Alafair and Shaw got home early the next morning, Mary and Kurt were in the kitchen, feeding breakfast to the children. Martha had volunteered to stay in town to look after Alice, Walter, and the newborn, but Gee Dub had found his way home. After the bluster and threatening weather of the night before, the new day was dawning bright and pink and clear. A perfect first day for their new grandchild, Alafair thought.
The offspring crowded around when they came into the house.
“It’s a girl,” Alafair announced. “A big, bonnie girl with a darling topknot of dark hair.”
The young girls began a joyous dance and Charlie’s arms flew up. “I knew it!” he whooped. “I win, Gee Dub!”
Gee Dub dug a nickel out of his pocket and handed it to his brother with a wry smile. “Durn, I figured we were about due for a boy around here for a change.”
