by Geff Moyer
Isabel squealed and giggled at the sight of Billy, recalling the day over two years ago when he was hogtied in her classroom. She also ran up and gave him a hug, something he did not expect, but enjoyed. She was taller than the last time he saw her and had longer hair. He could see she was going to be a very pretty young lady. Freddie would be proud and worried about boyfriends. After hearing how well she was doing in school and how much she loved her new seventh grade school marm, he felt he should’ve brought her a book or pencils or a ruler or something, anything besides the childish doll. But she seemed to like it, or pretended to.
After a supper the likes that lived up to Freddie’s bragging, Billy and Eldridge went out on the porch for a smoke. Billy tamped down his pipe as Eldridge opened a small package, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“Sorry ‘bout the tintypes!” whispered Eldridge. “Like to burn those damn things! Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and Janelle won’t be in bed. She’s downstairs looking at that goddamn book. No tears, not cryin,’ just...just starin’ at those tintypes. ‘Bout the only thing that’ll bring her out of her dark place is Isabel. The girl’s her life now.”
Something with Freddie’s birth had messed up Janelle’s insides. He was the only child the couple had, or could have. When Freddie joined the Rangers it gave his parents the chance to take in their granddaughter, for which they were elated. Now they would raise her to womanhood. Something Freddie would never see. When the Rankins asked Billy to stay the night he told them he already had a hotel room in town, which he did, even though he never intended to use it. It was all part of his alibi in case John Foster asked of his whereabouts during Pasco’s sudden disappearance. Yes, he felt guilty about using these fine folks like this, and even a little white lie to a man like John Foster felt like betrayal, but it had to be done and he had to do it alone. Once again he gave Orion his head and the two were back in Naco in a little under thirty minutes, shortly after ten Saturday night. Any remaining guilt had been left somewhere back among the pages of that tintype album.
As usual, the hotel clerk was snoring away on his small cot in the little room just off the lobby of the only hotel in Naco. It was a two story building with six rooms on each floor. Billy quietly entered, took the key to Room 11, and wrote the name Diaz Pasco on the registry. He placed two silver dollars by the signature, enough for one night’s stay. He crept out as quietly as he came in, leaving the desk clerk in snoring slumber. A few minutes later he peeked in the whorehouse door to be certain John Foster and his quarter Pueblo were nowhere in sight and that Henrietta wouldn’t see him enter. Soon he was alone with Abbie in her tiny room.
“He can’t cross that bridge,” Billy reminded her in an anxious whisper.
“I know, Billy” she impatiently answered. “I ain’t stupid. Ya done tol’ me hunderd times.”
“Whatcha gonna say to him?”
“Aw, fer shit’s sake, Billy...”
“Abbie, ya gotta mean it! He’s gotta believe ya!”
She sighed and whispered in a lustful tone, “Victoriano sent me to pleasure ya.”
Billy held up a key. “Room eleven, second floor,” he explained. “It’s just inside the backside steps and doorway, so use them. No one should see ya that way.” The last thing he wanted was to have Abbie tied to Pasco’s intended demise.
“Damn, Billy,” she exclaimed, excited and pleased and her eyes wide. “Ya know how long it’s been since I fucked in a fancy hotel room?” As if it unlocked the greatest treasure in the world, she snatched the key and quickly stuffed it in her corset. The two of them left the small room and went downstairs to the parlor. Since it was Saturday night, business was good. The high pitched sound of clinking glasses rose above the laughter and conversation. He found Henrietta and she told him John and Cassie Lou had left for the night.
“John gonna marry that girl?” Henrietta asked as she lightly stroked Billy’s privates. “He should! Won’t cost him as much.”
Billy chuckled but never took his eyes off Abbie as she shopped her wares, moving from man to man, laughing, flirting, touching, and making every hombre in that room feel like a king. She had a little less than two hours to kill before Pasco’s release, might as well make the best of it. Whores survive by numbers.
October, 1907
It was the second time this week Jeff had found Billy in their favorite whorehouse instead of at home with Anna and their two baby boys. He wasn’t surprised or angry, just disappointed. He had seen his folk’s marriage fall apart, but not in such a short time as this. Of course, Billy spending drunken nights in this place certainly didn’t help bandage the bleeding union. He and Retta were occupying the same chair at a table for four when Jeff strolled over to them.
“Retta,” Jeff stated coldly, “take a walk!”
Knowing Kidder’s volatile reputation the whore didn’t argue. She was up and mixed in with the crowd in seconds, much to the anguish of a soused Billy. He sprang to his feet and knocked over the chair.
“What the hell ya doin’, goddamn it?” he shouted. The sudden clamor caused the bouncer to take notice.
Tarley Jefferson stood six-inches over six feet and was the son of a former slave who was given his freedom from a west Texas plantation after he saved the town from a rampaging bull. The animal got loose and was running through the streets goring anything and everyone in sight. Tarley’s pa was standing in the back of a wagon loading supplies for his master. When the crazy bull passed by the wagon the former slave leapt on its back, grabbed its horns, and twisted its neck until it snapped. Although his master was reluctant to do it, the whole town insisted on the man’s freedom. He got it, but his wife didn’t. It’s said he waited close to a year just across the border from El Paso in the New Mexico hills and survived on cactus roots and coyote meat until his wife could escape her bondage and join him. How the couple ended up in Nogales no one knows, and Tarley’s grizzly attitude didn’t welcome any questions about his ma and pa. But the baby they birthed was a bull himself.
“There be a problem chere, Rangers?” asked Tarley in a voice deeper than a hoarse bullfrog.
Jeff was shocked with how fast the big man made it through the crowd and to his side.
“No problem, Tarley. Right, Billy?”
Billy fuzzy-eyed his friend then turned to Tarley and begrudgingly said, “No problem, Tarley.”
“Den have fun, Rangers,” Tarley replied with no smile and returned to his normal sentinel post, but both Rangers knew the bull would be keeping an eye on them.
“I ain’t goin’ home, Jeff!” declared Billy still rather loudly.
“Didn’t tell ya to, did I?” answered Jeff, taking a quick glance and nod towards Tarley to assure the man that all was still hunky-dory.
“I’m just sayin’ I ain’t doin’ it.” He plopped himself back down at the table.
Jeff chuckled and said, “This is kinda switched ‘round, isn’t it?”
“What’d ya mean?” Billy spat as he poured himself a shot of whiskey.
“Ain’t gonna offer me one?” asked Jeff.
Billy hesitated for a moment then poured Jeff a drink. “Only ‘cause ya said ain’t. And what’s switched ‘round?”
“Usually I’m the one who’s a loud drunk.”
“Ya ain’t drunk,” Billy replied in a lower volume.
“Guess we’ll have to remedy that, huh?” Jeff downed his whiskey, poured himself another one, and joined Billy at the table.
“I want my whore back,” slurred a disgruntled Billy. “And why ain’t ya with Abbie?”
“She’s gotta stay up in her room for a few days...women folk stuff.”
“Hate that!” stated Billy.
“Nature runnin’ its course, that’s all.”
“That was the one good thing ‘bout when Anna was carryin’—none of that nature stuff goin’ on. Made fer a lot of good times.”
“I don’t know ‘bout that. Unloadin’ yer baggage while she’s carryin’ migh
t make me a bit too cautious to enjoy it.”
“Ya only do it durin’ the first six months or so,” explained Billy. “I tell ya, some of the best baggage handlin’ Anna and I had was when she was carryin’ our first born. We did it almost ev’ry night with no worries ‘bout women folk stuff.” Billy poured himself another drink and gulped it down then just stared at the crowd. Finally he looked at his friend and said, “And that’s when it all but stopped...right after our first boy was born...the fuckin’ just went right out the window. It’s like...like she don’t have no interest in it no more.” He poured another drink and continued, “Even more so after the birthin’ of our second boy.”
“Maybe it’ll pass,” said Jeff. “Maybe sooner or later she’ll get back to the old Anna.”
“I ain’t holdin’ my breath.”
Jeff glanced around the room and said, “I can see that.”
“Don’t you go gettin’ holy roller on me. You like this place as much as me.”
“That I do, my friend. That I do.”
“Then get Retta back here!”
Jeff cut off a chunk of chew and slipped it into his mouth. “I don’t know how many times I had to chase my pa outta the one and only whorehouse in our town,” he said. “Got so sick of hearin’ my folks shoutin’ and bitchin’ at each other that my little brother and I would take our blankets out under the big willow tree ‘bout twenty yards from the house so we wouldn’t have to listen to’em. In the wintertime we’d go down in the storm shelter. Some nights, though, we couldn’t get far enough away. I think the best thing they ever did was get that divorce.”
“Ya tellin’ me to do that?”
“Nope, just statin’ a fact. ‘Neath willow trees and down in storm shelters ain’t fun places fer kids to spend their nights.”
“Yer sure liken the ‘ain’ts’ tonight.”
Jeff smiled and poured another drink for both of them. “Guess you’re rubbin’ off on me. The other day I even stopped a couple of frisky colts from pickin’ on an old Injun woman. Surprised myself with that one.” He laughed. Then the two raised their glasses, tapped them together, and sat quiet for a spell. Finally Jeff said, “I almost got hitched once. Back up in Vermillion. Her name was Molly Thompson. I tell ya, Billy, she was the girl of my dreams.”
He waited for his friend to continue the story, but Jeff just released a long stream of tobacco juice into the spittoon a few feet from their table and sat there. Finally Billy asked, “What happened?”
“Well, when my folks got divorced and sold the farm I didn’t know whether to stay in Vermillion or go to Los Angeles with my ma or Oregon with my pa. I knew Molly wanted me to stay.” He looked at Billy and gave him a big tobacco stained grin. “She had her own plans for me.”
“Molly. Good name,” stated Billy, only so it would spark his friend to continue with his story.
“Molly Thompson...hair as black as night and eyes like two chunks of coal.” He smiled at a memory and added, “She had one dimple, in her left cheek, just like her ma. Truth is, though, I was kinda partial to Oregon—never seen that part of the country. One night we were lying out in a field watchin’ shootin’ stars” He looked at Billy and added, “She was wearing my favorite mohair sweater. I told her that I was considering Oregon. For a long spell she didn’t say anything. Then she sang me a song.”
“A song?”
“Yep! Red River Valley. When I heard those sad words comin’ from her heart I knew I’d be stayin’ in Vermillion.”
Jeff stopped talking. Billy watched his friend’s eyes drift to a faraway place. Before they got too far to bring back Billy asked, “Well, what happened?”
“She drowned before we could tie the knot,” Jeff replied “Flash flood! I was off hunting with some fellas. That was when I had that great shot on that mule deer I told ya ‘bout.” He lowered his head and slowly moved it from side to side. “Should’ve been there, mighta been able to...but...well, shoulda, coulda, woulda don’t mean shit now, does it?” Trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle that didn’t even make a scratch in the sadness of the moment he added, “Sometimes that ol’ Missouri River can be a vindictive son-of-a-bitch.”
“What’s that?” asked Billy. “That “vin” thing?”
“Vindictive?” said Jeff as he poured them both another shot of whiskey. “Means, uh, hold a grudge, won’t let bygones be bygones.”
“How can a river hold a grudge?”
“Rivers aren’t patient things. We dam them up, cut channels off of them, change their courses to irrigate our crops, courses they been running for thousands of years. After awhile they just get pissed and say enough’s enough, and they flood, just to remind us whose boss. Then just as I was about to pack up for Oregon I got wind of the Rangers. I told myself this was my chance to do something.” He smiled and added, “Maybe even get famous. So here I am.”
Billy stared at his friend for a moment, letting all he just heard sink in. Finally he said, “That’s the saddest fuckin’ story I ever heard. I ain’t even in the mood to get drunk now.”
“You’re already drunk.”
“Drunker then!” The two laughed. After it quelled Billy looked straight at Jeff and asked, “You gonna marry Abbie?”
Jeff smiled and turned his shot glass over and plunked it down on the table. Billy waited a moment then followed suit.
“Come on!” said Jeff, rising from the table. “I’ll walk you home.”
July 9, 1910
Hidden in the shadows he watched Abbie greet the newly released Pasco five minutes after midnight. She had stopped the man in front of the hotel just like Billy had instructed, not giving the cabrón a chance to even draw near the bridge to the Mexican side. He couldn’t hear what either was saying, but with Pasco’s grinning teeth standing out against his dark skin, he knew the shitbird was pleased. Abbie smiled, stroked his chest, stomach, and privates, all the time slowly swaying her own hips and allowing them to lightly brush against the member that had been caged for ninety days. She pulled the key from her blouse and brandished it. Arm around each other’s waist they sauntered up the back stairs of the hotel.
The side window of the dentist’s office was easy enough to jimmy open and big enough for Billy to climb through. Knowing no one would be there late Saturday night, he wasn’t worried about the clamor when his leg bumped the mechanical praying mantis and it spun and clanged against the high backed chair. Besides, he figured, who the hell would want to rob a dentist’s office? He scooped up the Clover and its accompanying pieces, climbed back out of the window, and returned to the blackness behind the hotel.
Room 11 was perfectly located with a window looking out onto the corral. A lit candle in that window for ten seconds was to be Abbie’s signal for when Pasco would be spent and asleep. Billy anxiously lurked in the shadows behind the building. He kept Orion saddled alongside another mount he had taken from the livery. After ninety days of no whores and no liquor, he figured it wouldn’t take Abbie long to wear Pasco down to a limp bag of bones.
He was wrong.
With every hour that passed the night air got colder and his concern for Abbie got hotter. He had smoked almost all of his tobacco. He smacked his pipe on his boot to drive the last of the red ashes onto the ground then slipped it into his vest pocket. The heat warmed his chest. It was just a few hours until dawn. Did something happen? Surely the man would’ve been spent in that amount of time, or had the asshole hurt her? Right as he decided to risk it and go up the steps to check, the candle lit, burned for ten seconds, and went out. He grabbed the Clover and hurried up the backstairs of the hotel. Lightly rapping on the door of room eleven he expected a quiet entrance.
“Ya owe me ‘nother five bucks,” she howled right as she threw open the door.
“Sssshhhh!” Billy demanded.
“Oh, he’s dead to the world. Ninety days in that cell and the sumbitch wore me ragged. I’m too damn sore to work fer at least two days. Ya owe me ‘nother five bucks, goddamn it.”
/>
“Okay, okay. Hold this!” He shoved the Clover into her hands than fished a five dollar gold piece from his pocket.
“What the hell’s this?” asked Abbie as she studied the strange object.
Retrieving the device and handing her the coin he explained, “It’s a Clover. I took it from the dentist’s office.”
She stuffed the gold piece into her corset and said, “Don’t look like no clover I e’er seen. Ain’t got no leaves! What’s it fer?”
“Givin’ a fella ether!” answered Billy as he poured the liquid ether into the device. “I done tol’ ya ‘bout it afore! It makes ya sleep real deep.”
“Whata ya mean real deep?”
“Damn it, Abbie, real deep is real deep! Now get on outta here!” Just as he had seen the young dentist do, he poured the liquid ether into the Clover and began to pump.
“Huh? The woman was stunned and wounded. “Ya mean I can’t stay in this here fancy hotel room, at least fer the night?”
His impatience melted when he saw the longing in her eyes. He remembered what she said. “Ya know how long it’s been since I fucked in a fancy hotel room?” How often is this woman offered luxury? How often does her room smell like lilacs? How often does she get to sleep on clean sheets? Well, not so clean anymore, but the bed was still bigger and fluffier than what she was accustomed to.
“Only if ya get outta here early and leave by the back steps,” he relented. Abbie giggled like a little girl and spun in a circle. “I mean it, Abbie, Early!
“I know, I know,” she responded, grinning.
“I don’t want no one tyin’ ya to this asshole.”
Abbie looked at Billy for a half moment, teasingly ran her fingers along his shoulder in a flirtatious manner.
“Ya worried ‘bout me, Billy Old?” she asked coquettishly.
“I don’t want nothun happenin’ to you that should be happenin’ to me!” he answered in a curt and serious tone.
