“Do you want to?”
“Not really. My days, girl, are numbered. Starting to get rheumatiz. Slowing down. Them whites that hate me, they gonna get me in time. I know that. So I ain’t afraid. Once you know you’re done for, you ain’t afraid no more. Well, a little. But what’s gonna happen is gonna happen . . . I’ll check on you now and then. Something comes up where I can pay back what you done for Smoky, I will.”
“What I did was get him to Tyler to be lynched.”
“You tried. Listen here now. Need me, hang a strip of white cloth on the other side of that oak there. I’ll see it. Maybe not right away, but soon. And I’ll come. You know, it’s kind of good to be out of them deep woods a bit. I forget the real color of the sky, seeing only bits of it through the trees, and some of it looking green cause of the sun on the leaves. Kind of tired of staying back there in them woods, pretending to be a booger bear.”
“Got a feeling you might be a booger bear, Bull.”
Bull smiled, corked the jug, reached down and gave the dog a pat. “I’ll be gone now.”
Bull rose, walked behind the oak, and when Sunset stood to see him off he wasn’t there. He had blended into the brush and trees. Once she thought she heard him moving through the undergrowth, but when she looked there was nothing. Then the last strands of light were gone and there was darkness, falling like a curtain. The wind picked up and brought the damp dirt smell of the creek to her nostrils, a night bird called, a fistful of crickets started up as if they had just punched the clock, and within moments a few lightning bugs appeared.
Sunset took another sip of the shine and shivered. She poured the rest on the ground. Ben came over and sniffed the shine in the dirt, jerked his head back and went away.
“Good dog,” Sunset said. “Believe me, you don’t want to drink that. Pickle something in it maybe, but drink it, uh-uh.”
22
Next morning, much against Karen’s will, Sunset drove her to Marilyn’s. Karen sat in the passenger seat, stiff, arms crossed, a look on her face that made Sunset think of someone being forced to eat tacks.
“Thought you’d want to see your grandma,” Sunset said.
Karen shifted in the car seat, but didn’t uncross her arms.
“I wanted to go to the Oil Festival.”
“Who says you can’t? Ask Grandma. She’ll take you.”
“Hillbilly told me about it,” Karen said.
“He told me too,” Sunset said. “That’s how I knew.”
“He said he’d take me.”
Sunset let that sink in, said, “He didn’t mean like a date, dear. He meant you could go with us.”
“Well, I’m not going with you, am I?”
“Grandma wants to see you. You can go with her. Besides, you’re thinking the wrong things about Hillbilly. He likes you. But not in that way.”
“How would you know?”
“I know.”
“Because you like him. Because you kissed him.”
“All right. You got me. I like him.”
“Well, I like him more.”
Sunset decided not to get into who liked who more. She said, “He’s too old for you, dear, and that’s the end of it.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“You think he can’t like me because I’m young.”
“He can like you, but not that way. And that’s the end of it, Karen. You’re going to your grandma’s, and you can go with her or you can sit at her house. That’s up to you.”
“Do you like him better than Daddy?”
“I just like him. Nothing more.”
“You didn’t answer me about Daddy.”
“I loved your daddy when I loved him, and I still love things about him, certain memories, but he made me not love him. Beatings tend to make you feel a lot less warm toward someone, dear.”
Karen made a snorting sound. “You liked killing him.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“That didn’t sound real convincing.”
“I’ve explained it as best I know how. And I’ve explained to you how it’s going to be with Hillbilly and you.”
“You think you know everything.”
“I do not. I know I don’t know everything. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I don’t know everything, and in fact, don’t know much.”
“You sure don’t. You don’t know nothing. You don’t know a thing.”
“That’s enough out of you, young lady.”
“You going to hit me, like you say Daddy hit you?”
“No. But I’d like to. I’d like to a lot. And I don’t just say your daddy hit me. He did. I didn’t get the way you saw me by beating myself up. You know he hit me, baby. You knew it before I killed him, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
Karen leaned back in the seat and glared out the window.
They rode the rest of the way to Camp Rapture in silence, and when Sunset pulled up in Marilyn’s yard, Karen got out of the car, slammed the door, ran up on the porch and inside.
Sunset sat for a moment, considered trying to talk to her, but thought: No. There’s no end to trying to explain what can’t be explained.
She turned the car around, was about to leave, when she saw Marilyn in her wing mirror. Sunset opened her car door, Marilyn came up and leaned in.
“Karen seems a little huffy,” Marilyn said.
“Young girl blues,” Sunset said.
“Well, she’ll get over it. I’m going to fix her a good breakfast, see if she wants to go over to Holiday, go to a movie or something.”
“They’re having a thing they call the Oil Festival. Supposed to have music and such. I’m going to be over there today myself. On business.”
Marilyn smiled.
“Here’s something might make business better.” Marilyn handed her three envelopes. “It’s a payday for you and your boys.”
“Early, isn’t it?”
“It is. But you can only go so long without money.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Do your business, but take a little time for yourself. Reckon you’ve earned it.”
By the time Sunset reached her tent, Hillbilly and Clyde had arrived. Hillbilly was camping down by the creek about two miles away, walking distance, but Sunset had talked Clyde into picking him up on his way in the night before.
Clyde hadn’t liked the idea, but she had convinced him. She only had to look him in the eyes, smile and flirt a little. She felt about as tall as an amputated flea after doing it, but she’d done it anyway and thought she might do it again it worked so well.
Sunset got out of the car, said, “Howdy, boys.”
They greeted her, and Ben came over for a pat on the head. She looked up and noted Clyde was a mess of hair seeping out from under his hat, sleeves half rolled, pants sagging, a growth of beard that made his face look dirty.
Hillbilly, even if he was living by the creek, looked as if his clothes had been pressed. His hair was combed and he was clean-shaved and alert-looking. No drinking this morning.
Clyde, on the other hand, looked as if he were coming off a bender, though she had a feeling he wasn’t. That it was just the way he felt. Maybe he was regretting burning down his house.
As they strolled over, she started to tell them about Bull, but decided not to. She wasn’t sure why. Seeing Bull was a lot like when she was a girl of eleven in the woods picking berries and she’d come upon a small black bear rooting against a hickory nut tree. When she walked up, it stopped rooting and turned to look at her, rising up on its hind legs. They stared at each other for a minute. Then the bear settled down on all fours and walked directly toward her.
She froze.
The bear came within inches, extended its nose, and smelled her, and she smelled the bear, and it was an earthy smell like dirt, dung and urine. Maybe to the bear, she smelled as bad as it did to her.
When
its nostrils were full of her, the bear sauntered past her and disappeared into the woods.
It was an amazing moment, and she never told anyone.
Not that she had many people to tell. Her mother was still around then, but she spent most of her time drunk and shacked up, so she wouldn’t have told her anyway because it wouldn’t have meant anything to her. She’d have thought: So you seen a bear, no big thing.
Fact was, she wouldn’t have told anyone had there been anyone to tell.
It was her special moment and she clung to it.
Meeting Bull was the same way. Least for now. And she was going to keep it to herself. Way he had appeared and disappeared more expertly than the bear. And she could still taste that awful whisky on the back of her throat, a peppered fire of broken glass and greasy sins.
“What we’re gonna do today is split up,” she said. “Hillbilly, you’re gonna go with me. Clyde, I want you to go out to Zendo’s. See if you can find out anything about that land that connects to his, where the body was found.”
“Why?” Clyde said.
“Maybe there’s some kind of connection. Me and Hillbilly are going to check at the courthouse. See if those papers we found mean anything. Find out why they aren’t in the courthouse and if they’re supposed to be there.”
“I’ll be through by noon,” Clyde said. “Before. Why don’t we all ride over to Zendo’s, then Holiday?”
“I think we can cover more time and ground this way,” Sunset said.
“Oh, I think some time can be made all right,” Clyde said.
“That’s enough, Clyde,” Sunset said. “You work for me, and this is a job of work, and if you don’t want to do it, then you don’t have to. I’m asking you to do something needs to be done.”
“That’s not all you’re asking.”
“She’s the boss,” Hillbilly said. “That’s what you told me.”
“Quit being foolish,” Sunset said. “Both of you. That’s enough. Now listen up. I got some good news. We got paid early.”
She passed out the envelopes. Hillbilly peeked in the envelope. “Well, it’s money.”
“No one promised you’d be rich,” Sunset said.
Clyde took his envelope, folded it and put it in his back pocket, and without a word, got in his truck and drove off.
“Think he’s going to do what you asked?” Hillbilly said.
“I do. I’ll get the maps, and we can set out.”
“While we’re over there, might as well hang around a bit, see a picture show, maybe go to the Oil Festival.”
“This is work, Hillbilly.”
“I know. But we could, you know?”
“I suppose.”
He grinned at her. “You haven’t forgotten our kiss, have you?”
“How could I?”
“Where’s Karen?”
“At her grandma’s.”
“Thought she was going to come with us. I told her about the festival.”
“You had plans all along to go, didn’t you?” Sunset said.
“Didn’t you?”
Sunset hoped she wasn’t the blushing sort.
“Now I know why she isn’t here,” Hillbilly said.
“Awful sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Sure of what I want, if I’m not sure of anything else.”
“Karen’s got a little crush on you. She’s acting a little too old for her age.”
“Is she?”
“Yes, she is. And that’s why she isn’t here.”
“That the only reason?”
“I’ll get the maps.”
The town was flying colorful streamers from derricks and rooftops and there was a big white banner stretched across Main Street that read in big blue letters OIL FESTIVAL, HOLIDAY, TEXAS. The streets were thick with people, cars, wagons, mules and horses. It reminded Sunset of ants crawling over a carcass.
Main Street had dried out after all the rain, but the drying had left deep ruts and rifts. On one side of the street, water had washed dirt up on the wooden sidewalks that had turned to mud and hardened. In some of the street’s deeper holes gravel had been tossed and had sunk in already, doing little to nothing toward repair.
Sunset bumped the car along, and they bounced past the picture show. There was a line at the box office going around the corner and partially into the street. Sunset looked to see what was showing, saw it was still the Marx Brothers movie. Memory of that brought back thoughts of sitting in a chair behind Smoky, waiting on him to finish so she could bring him out and carry him over to Tyler, only to have him lynched.
Maybe she didn’t want to see a moving picture today after all.
She drove over to the sheriff’s office, parked in front next to a sign that said NO PARKING. There was one large oak that grew by the sheriff’s office and there were ten colored men sitting on the ground, their backs against it. Sunset noted there was a chain around the tree, and all the men had on cuffs and these were attached to the chain. A tall man with black hair sticking out from under his hat, wearing a badge, toting a shotgun, was parading up and down in front of the tree in a nervous kind of way.
They went inside, Hillbilly carrying the tin box with the maps and papers.
Rooster was sitting behind his desk. His hat was on the desk in front of him and he had his hands on either side of the brim as if holding it down. His body was all sharp angles and thin pink flesh. The hair on his head was almost as red as Sunset’s hair, and it stood up toward the top and middle of his head like a rooster comb. Sunset thought: Now I get why he’s called Rooster.
He looked up at them, said, “Whole town is nuts. Ain’t a thing you can get done or keep from being done. It’s a mess.”
“Suppose money is being made,” Hillbilly said.
“Reckon so. That’s why they come up with this Oil Festival in the first place. Money. Wasn’t bad enough we got everyone trying to get in the picture show, now we got people from all over come in to hear music and see fireworks.”
“What’s with all them fellas chained to the tree?” Hillbilly said.
“Run out of room in the jail. Drunks mostly. And the white men in there don’t want to be jailed up with colored.”
“Nothing more impressive than a picky criminal,” Sunset said. “Where’s your partner?”
“He up and quit after Clyde hit him. I’m sheriff now. You know, one of his teeth finally come out from that smack. One in the back.”
“He don’t need that one,” Hillbilly said.
“I was just admiring the badge,” Sunset said. “How’s it feel to be sheriff?”
“Ain’t so sure I like it or want it. It was better when I was a deputy and had someone tell me what to do. You ain’t here on some kind of business, are you?”
“Maybe,” Sunset said.
“Maybe?”
Hillbilly put the box on the sheriff’s desk and opened it. He took out the maps and the papers. Rooster looked at them, said, “These look like papers supposed to be in the courthouse.”
“What we thought,” Sunset said.
“These are land papers,” Rooster said. “Survey papers. How did you come by them?”
“Found them,” Sunset said.
“Found them?”
Sunset nodded.
“Any idea about this stuff?” Sunset said.
The sheriff studied the papers for a while, shook his head. “Just what I told you. You’d need to go over to the courthouse to find out more.”
“What we planned,” Sunset said, “but I thought I’d make a courtesy call. Then we thought we’d stick around for the Oil Festival.”
“On business?”
“With our badges off,” Sunset said.
“Oh. Well. Okay. Me, I’m just gonna sit in here and wait till someone gets killed or something and someone comes to get me. I ain’t getting out there. It’s too damn busy.”
A man built like a stump wearing a white Stetson came out of the back. He had a badge pinned to his shi
rt.
Rooster said, “Oh, this here is my deputy, Plug. He just hired on.”
“Howdy, Plug,” Sunset said.
“Damn, you are one fine-looking woman,” Plug said.
“Thanks,” Sunset said.
“I got another deputy too. Tootie. He ain’t here right now.”
“We’re parked in the place says no parking out front,” Sunset said.
“That’s all right,” Rooster said. “That’s the business spot.”
“It’s a black Ford,” Sunset said.
“Lot of black Fords,” Rooster said.
“Should I make a note to put in the window?”
“Naw. We’ll figure it out.”
Sunset and Hillbilly went out, the box under Hillbilly’s arm. They left their car in front of the sheriff’s office, walked over to the courthouse, threading their way through people, many who stared at Sunset with her badge and gun as if she might be playing dress up and was part of the festival’s hijinks.
“What are you supposed to be?” a man said, grabbing her shoulder.
“A constable,” she said.
“Well, you look right cute. You don’t work out of Dodge Street, do you?”
“No.”
“Sorry, then,” and he went away.
“Dodge Street?” Sunset said.
“It’s where the whorehouses are,” Hillbilly said.
Sunset jerked her head toward the retreating man. “Well, that sonofabitch,” she said.
Hillbilly laughed.
“How do you know about Dodge Street?” she said.
“Word gets around,” Hillbilly said.
The courthouse was set in the middle of Main Street. The street forked around it and gathered together again on the other side. The building was made of smooth pink stone. It had long wide steps in front of its long wide doors, and it was the only large and only pretty construction in town, one of the few made of stone. All the windows on the street sides were scabbed in spots with dried mud.
In spite of the heat outside, it was cool in the courthouse, and when Sunset put her hand against the edge of the stone doorway, it too was cool, like a dead body. There were only the sounds of their heels as they made their way to a wide stone desk that curved around an attractive woman wearing a black pinned-on hat.
Sunset and Sawdust Page 20
