“He’s on his break, I’ll see if he’s around,” the voice said. Then, bad luck, it turned out that it was Denny, and the neutral tone didn’t work, he immediately recognized her voice.
“Hey, is this who I think it is?” he said.
“Denny, can I just speak to Ross, it’s real important,” Harmony said. The last thing she needed was a telephone conversation with Denny. As she was talking she remembered that she had caught a glimpse of Denny on his motorcycle, not long ago. He had put on a lot of weight, which fit with what she had heard from Gary, which was that Denny had become a bouncer in a titty bar somewhere on the outskirts of town. Sure enough, she had called a titty bar and who had picked up the phone but Denny?
“Well, you can speak to Ross if I can find the little wimp, but why would you want to when you can speak to me?” Denny asked. He had always been vain. “Better than that, you can come on out here and suck my dick, it would be like old times, wouldn’t it, babe?”
“Denny, my daughter is dead, would you go get Ross?” Harmony said; she was wondering why Denny and Ross had to be working in the same titty bar.
“Oh,” Denny said. “Okay. I think he stepped outside for a minute, I’ll go see if I can find him.”
There was a pause, as if Denny was maybe considering apologizing for his remark about her sucking his dick; but he didn’t make the apology, he had never apologized for anything, that she could remember. It was true that he was obsessed with blow jobs; one of the things that flashed through her mind when he made the remark was that he had once asked Pepper to give him a blow job; Pepper had been no more than sixteen at the time. Harmony felt a twinge of guilt for having brought her daughter into contact with such a man; it was one of the many puzzles of her life, that she had had such a big attraction for a man who had so few redeeming qualities. Gary just put it that she liked bad boys; he told her several times that she wouldn’t be interested in Denny for five minutes if he reformed and became a decent citizen; of course, it never happened, Denny didn’t have the slightest interest in becoming a decent citizen. Whether that had prompted all that sex she didn’t know—but she did feel a little wistful for the days when she could get attracted to a guy. It had been a while since anything that compelling had happened to her in the romantic area.
Then she heard footsteps on the other end of the phone; probably Ross was coming. She felt a strong urge to hang up—why should she have to stand in the airport, in the middle of the night, charging a long-distance call to her parents, in order to tell a man who hadn’t even been interested enough in Pepper to make her birthday parties that she was dead? When Pepper had been a lead dancer at the Stardust, Ross had never once come from Reno to see her show. It was no big deal to get from Reno to Las Vegas, either—the bottom line was, no interest.
“Harmony?” Ross said—he sounded tentative, probably he had not been expecting to get a phone call while he was on his break. From the way he said her name she could tell that it was not an entirely pleasant surprise, either.
“Ross, Pepper is dead, she died of AIDS in New York, she’s already cremated,” Harmony said—it seemed best just to get it out.
“You mean our daughter?” Ross asked. “Our little girl?”
“Ross, she was in her twenties,” Harmony said. “You should have kept in touch.”
“What? I guess I lost her phone number,” he said. “Oh my God. You mean our little girl is dead?”
“Ross, she died of AIDS in New York City,” Harmony said. Then, to her own surprise, she just hung up. What was the point of telling Ross or any man that he should have kept in touch? Ross had never particularly been in touch. The only touch that mattered to him was the sex act—long forgotten by both parties involved—that produced Pepper in the first place.
This time she got out of the airport and into the pickup as fast as she could go. She didn’t like all the memories that were crowding into her head—Denny and the sex and Ross never making it to the birthday parties, and a lot of others, most of them not nice memories. It was even disturbing to her that Ross and Denny were working in the same titty bar now. Ross had always hated Denny. He knew about Harmony’s big attraction and was very jealous, since her attraction to him had never been that big—it was more of a chum thing with him.
She didn’t have too much trouble getting out of Tulsa—north turned out to be easy to find; she didn’t do ninety like Pat, but she kept up a good speed and pretty soon the sign for the Best Western appeared. She didn’t go to the Best Western, though; she cruised on into Tarwater and parked at the jail.
Billy and Peewee were right where she had found them the night before, drinking beer and watching old Dick Van Dyke reruns. Harmony felt a little speedy, she was really ready to get home to Las Vegas and get Eddie back in school.
“Hi, Sis, where you been?” Billy asked. “Me and Peewee been hoping you’d show up. We’ve seen this episode of Dick Van Dyke about twenty times apiece.”
“Yep, we’ve nearly got it memorized,” Peewee said. His eyes lit up when he saw her, but Harmony wasn’t in the mood to welcome the lighting up. It wasn’t Peewee’s fault that he reminded her of Ross, but he did remind her of Ross; just then it was hard for her to be very welcoming to anyone who reminded her of Ross.
“Billy, could you lend me money for three air tickets?” she asked. “I need to take Eddie home.”
“Plenty of money available,” Billy said. He seemed cheered a little, to think that he could be of some help to his sister.
“Who’s the third ticket for?” he asked. He was pretty alert, for someone who had chosen to live his life in the local jail.
Harmony started to lie and say the third ticket was for Laurie. Her motive for the lie was that the minute she mentioned that her father was leaving her mother it would be all over town. The fact that Sty was leaving Ethel would be all anyone would talk about, in the beauty parlor, in the filling station, or at the grocery store.
“I’m taking Daddy,” she said. She didn’t want to start concealing family things from her brother.
“You’re taking Dad?” Billy said. He looked delighted and even sat up straighter on the couch.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in years,” Billy said. “If there was a bottle of champagne in the icebox I’d break it out and we’d drink it. This might give Dad a new lease on life. He’s been slipping fast, as things stood.”
“I wonder what Ethel will do, without Sty to torment,” Peewee said. “That’s always been her main occupation, tormenting Sty.”
“She’ll turn it on you, hoss,” Billy said. “She’ll probably sue the city, claiming you ain’t taking proper care of me—which you ain’t, by the way.”
“I ain’t?—what ain’t I doing?” Peewee asked. He seemed startled by the thought that Billy considered him remiss in his duties.
“Well, the vacuum cleaner ain’t worth a shit,” Billy said. “Also, we could use a VCR. I’m getting tired of memorizing these reruns.”
Billy went to his cell, came back with his checkbook, and gave Harmony a check for five thousand dollars.
“Billy, I don’t need this much,” Harmony said.
“Take it for Dad,” Billy said. “I hope he finds a girlfriend and gets a new lease on life, out there in Las Vegas.”
“Couldn’t you come out to the motel with me, again?” Harmony asked. “I’d like you to meet Eddie.”
“Sure, I’d like to meet Eddie,” Billy said.
“Take him, Harmony,” Peewee said. “Just don’t let him near a phone.”
When they got to the Best Western, Pat was in the parking lot, talking to a man in an older-model Cadillac. The man had the door of the car open, but when he saw them he closed it and drove away.
“There’s Pat, meeting her pusher,” Billy said. He seemed a little annoyed.
“Billy, I’ve taken drugs, don’t be judgmental,” Harmony said. Pat looked a little forlorn, standing there waiting for them.
“Oh, I ain’t judgmental,” Billy
said. “It’s the law that will be judgmental, when they finally pull the plug on her embezzling. You could have two siblings in the same jail, if you ain’t careful.”
“Hi, Billy,” Pat said. “Peewee must have lost his mind to let you come out here to a motel full of telephones.”
“Peewee’s too in love with Harmony to deny me anything,” Billy said.
“Eddie woke up about half an hour ago and he’s wired,” Pat said.
When they went inside Eddie was wearing the long T-shirt that he preferred to sleep in, and he was using the bed as a trampoline again, bouncing as high as he could. Iggy was snarling and trying to catch the end of Eddie’s T-shirt—he thought it was a game.
“Eddie, this is your Uncle Billy,” Harmony said.
Eddie ceased bouncing at once and smiled at his uncle.
“But I wanted to come meet you in jail,” Eddie said. “The reason is that I’ve never been in a jail before and if I went in one I could tell all my friends about it when I get home.”
“That’s a good reason, bud,” Billy said. “You can come take a look when your mom runs me back to the slammer.”
“Eddie, you should be asleep,” Harmony said. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Well, I was asleep,” Eddie pointed out. “Only in my dream Grandpa’s black rooster was chasing me and he pecked me very hard and I woke up.”
“Are you heading out already, or what?” Pat asked, looking at Harmony a little accusingly. “How can you leave just when we all need you?”
“Pat, I have to get a job and Eddie needs to be in school,” Harmony said. “I’m taking Dad with me, too.”
“What?” Pat said—she looked disbelieving, as if what Harmony had just said couldn’t possibly be true.
“I’m taking Dad with me, he wants to leave Mom,” Harmony said.
“He’s always wanted to leave her—that don’t mean you can just fly in here and take our dad away,” Pat said.
“Pat, he asked if he could go,” Harmony said.
“I don’t doubt it—he’s always favored you,” Pat said. Then she burst into tears and ran out the door.
“Aunt Pat’s upset,” Eddie remarked. “I hope she remembers to fasten her seat belt.”
“I don’t think Dad favored me,” Harmony said.
“Of course not, he favored Pat,” Billy said. “That’s why she’s so upset that he’s going away.
“Maybe we better load up Eddie and toddle on back to the jail,” he said, a moment later.
“Billy, we just got here—are you tired?” Harmony asked.
“No, but I’m getting a powerful urge to grab that phone and call Mildred,” he said. Harmony noticed that he was sort of eyeing the phone.
“Who’s Mildred?” Eddie asked.
“Eddie, let’s just go see the jail,” Harmony said.
On the ride into Tarwater, Eddie was as bright and bouncy as if he’d had a full night’s sleep.
“It’s not much like Las Vegas, is it, Mom?” he said, looking at the town. “Where do all the cars go at night? I see very few cars.”
“They go home to their little dinky garages,” Billy said.
Eddie and Peewee hit it off at once—they played two games of checkers and Eddie won both games. Then Peewee let Eddie listen to the police radio, after which he locked Eddie in a cell so he could pretend he was a dangerous criminal.
While Eddie was playing, Harmony enjoyed a few more minutes with her brother. They sat on a bunk in one of the empty cells and talked.
“I think you’re doing the right thing, taking Dad,” Billy said.
“What do you think Mom will do?” Harmony asked. Even though her mother was cranky she was old enough that it was natural to worry about her a little.
“Momma will be fine,” Billy said. “She’ll play a little more bridge, and drop in on me and Peewee a little more often.”
Harmony still had an ache inside her, from thinking about her brother living in the jail. It seemed so sad that he had chosen to live his life that way because he couldn’t resist making obscene phone calls to a woman he could have married at one time, a woman who probably would have given him all the sex he wanted.
“I just wish you’d think of a way to change, Billy,” she said. “Maybe you could get paroled and come out west with me and Eddie and Dad.”
“Harmony, don’t be jumping on the bandwagon to save me,” Billy said, not unkindly. “I’m all right. Life being what it is, I ain’t doing too badly.”
Harmony let it go. Billy was right. Who did she think she was, to be giving people advice? She had ignored millions of words of good advice herself, most of it Gary’s advice—Gary had ignored just as much of hers. The point was, people had to live their own lives; if Billy chose to live his in the jail in Tarwater, well, she should just mind her own business.
Billy gave her a long hug, though, when it came time to go—he was a little misty-eyed, obviously he loved his sister. Peewee took such a liking to Eddie that he gave him a key ring with a tiny oil rig attached to it, and also a baseball cap that said Tarwater Tigers, that being the name of the local ball team. Eddie was pleased with both gifts—he wanted to go immediately to an all-night locksmith and have some keys made to put on his key ring.
“Eddie, I don’t think they have all-night locksmiths in Tarwater,” Harmony informed him.
“But I need a locksmith and I need one now because there are no keys on my key ring,” Eddie said.
As they were driving out of Tarwater, back toward the Best Western, Harmony noticed that the sky to the east was tinged with light. The night was ending, and it was probably going to be her last night in her hometown for a very long time. Already there was a yellow band of sunlight on the horizon, across the plains.
Eddie was watching her closely, as bright-eyed as if it were not five o’clock in the morning. He was watching with a special look he had, a look that meant he was gauging how much pressure he would have to apply to get his mother to do what he wanted her to do, in this case get him a few keys for his new key ring. There was no ignoring Eddie when he wanted something. It was a question of saying no and taking the consequences. In this case, seeing that it would soon be sunup, she had what she thought was a good idea.
“Eddie, Grandpa gets up early—he probably has some keys he could give you,” Harmony said. “Why don’t we go to the farm and see if he’s milking the cow or something.”
“Okay,” Eddie said. “That’s a good suggestion.”
They found Sty down by the barn. He had finished milking the one milk cow—a foamy pail of milk sat by the water trough. The chickens were gathered around him, and a few guinea hens. Four heifers and two goats stood nearby, as well as the old brown mule. In the pigpen the three pigs had their snouts through the rail, watching. The two turkeys were foraging in the dust, not far away, and the black rooster that had appeared in Eddie’s dream was out in the grass trying to catch grasshoppers.
“Hi, Grandpa,” Eddie said.
“Morning, Eddie,” her father said—when she came closer she saw that he had tears in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” she asked—she was not used to seeing her father in such an emotional state.
“Oh, I guess I was just thinking how much I’ll miss these critters, when you and me and Eddie head out west,” Sty said.
“We’re going tonight, Dad,” she said. She was hoping he wouldn’t change his mind—it would be too big a disappointment for Eddie.
“But you could take some chickens, Grandpa,” Eddie suggested. “I have Iggy and Eli—why don’t you bring some chickens if they’re your family?”
“Nope, these chickens need to stay here, where they can peck grasshoppers and bugs,” Sty said, wiping his eyes with the same old cotton handkerchief he had used the day before. “There might not be enough grasshoppers for them, out in Las Vegas. I hear it’s kind of deserty, out there.”
“Well, we don’t have grasshoppers but we do have many ants,” Edd
ie reflected. “The chickens could peck the ants.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Eddie,” Sty said. “I’ll be so busy talking to you and meeting all your friends that I wouldn’t have much time to devote to a chicken, even if I had one with me.”
Harmony began to feel some qualms—it was obviously going to be a big change for her father. What if he got to Las Vegas and missed his cows and his mule and his pigs too much? What if he was miserable without them? It was nice in Oklahoma. Birds were chirping, and the sun was shining on the dewy grass. Her father looked so in place there, with the prairie behind him and the deep sky overhead. After all, he had been born on the farm—he had lived his whole life in that very place. Maybe he would miss the breeze and the sunlight and the animals so much that he’d wither up and die. The thought of moving him sort of gave her qualms.
On the other hand, she hadn’t come to Oklahoma planning to remove him; he himself had asked to go.
“What will you do with all your animals, Daddy?” she asked. The animals expected him to be there when the sun came up, only the very next time it would be coming up he wouldn’t be, to feed and milk and do the chores.
“Dick is going to take them—Dick’s reliable,” Sty said. “He’ll come over and do the chores for a few days, and then he’ll move the stock over to his and Neddie’s place.”
“Daddy, I don’t want this move to be a thing that makes you sad,” Harmony said. “I worry that you won’t be happy without your animals.”
Her father picked up the pail of milk and carried it over to the pigpen—he poured it into a wooden trough and the pigs immediately began to slurp it up.
“Oh, I expect I’ll miss them a little bit, but Dick will take fine care of these critters,” Sty said. “I ain’t really farming anymore—I’m just piddling. I’d rather spend the time I have left talking to Eddie. He’s got a lot more to say than these critters and this poultry.”
Sty suddenly picked Eddie up and sat him on the back of the brown mule. The mule stood by the water trough, occasionally dipping its nose in the water.
The old mule paid no attention to the little boy on its back, but Eddie looked very surprised to find himself on top of a mule. His eyes widened and he gripped the mule’s mane with both hands.
The Late Child Page 44
