Hell, Yeah

by Carolyn Brown

  “Why in the devil is everyone so intrigued with the fact that a cowboy kissed me? It’s New Year’s, for God’s sake. It was a kiss. I didn’t have sex with him on the dance floor.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” Cathy asked.

  “Why didn’t you have sex with him on the dance floor? Might’ve done you some good. All you do is run this beer joint. You’re as big of a hermit as Daisy used to be.”

  Cathy shrugged. “Anything wrong with that?”

  Merle set the beer bottle down after a long drink. “You’re going to grow up to be just like me. Seventy years old. Enough money to buy Texas and couldn’t care less. Time to retire, but what the hell would you do if you did?”

  “So?” Cathy asked.

  Merle laughed. “Just remember I told you so. I’ll bring around all those tax papers in the next couple of days. I like to get that done early on so the good old government can have my money to buy fancy jets.”

  “Bring it by anytime next week after noon. I’m a bear in the mornings.”

  “So is Angel, but she has to get up and get to work come Monday morning.” Merle looked out over the Honky Tonk. “I miss the old crowd.”

  “Me too,” Cathy said.

  “I’ve seen ’em come and go for years, but that last one was sure a lot of fun. Who’d have thought Chigger’s momma would have really got old Joe Bob and Billy Bob Walker both married off in three months time?”

  Cathy shivered. “You see that woman comin’, you yell right loud and I’ll light a shuck for higher country. I swear if she wasn’t religious she’d be sellin’ voodoo out of her back door. She might be anyway. The religion thing might just be a cover to keep them from stringin’ her up.”

  “They don’t hang witches. They burn them at the stake.” Merle laughed. “Why are you so afraid of the woman?”

  “You remember back when Chigger and Jim Bob got married and Daisy and I went to her backyard dinner reception thing?”

  Merle nodded.

  “Well, Chigger’s momma said that she was findin’ a wife for Joe Bob and Billy Bob and a husband for me. I’m hopin’ she forgot about me, but she might sneak up on my blind side.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for you. I see her comin’ around with one of them little dolls that’s got pins stuck in it, we’ll both head for the hills.” Merle carried her beer back to the pool tables. Angel was bent over the table and Garrett was looking at her like he could carry her back to his ranch and never let her out of his sight again.

  It was love at first sight and those kinds of miracles were what made all women believe there was a knight in shining armor out there waiting for her. It was the pot of happy-ever-after gold at the end of the rainbow. Cathy swore she’d shoot Travis Henry between the eyes if he messed it up. Who was he anyway and what evil wind blew him into the Honky Tonk?

  Travis had a hip propped on the side of the other pool table. Merle said something to him and he smiled. Heat vibrations started in the depth of Cathy’s heart and warmed her from the inside out. Between customers she stole glances that way and looked her fill of him. He was at least six feet three inches because he was slightly taller than she was. He had dishwater blond hair with that just-crawled-out-of-bed look. Light brown thick lashes and brows. Nice wide chest that narrowed to a tight, firm rear end. The whole picture set her hormones to singing one of Dolly’s old country tunes, “Why’d You Come in Looking Like That?”

  By closing time the beer joint had thinned out to only a few pool players. “Five minutes and the party is over,” Tinker called out as he carried a cooler filled with empty Dr Pepper cans to the bar like he did every night. New Year’s Eve wasn’t one bit different than Wednesday night in the middle of the summer. Closing time was closing time and he always told the hangers-on that it was time to go at five minutes until the hour.

  He was the size of a double-door refrigerator, shaved his big round head, and had eyes that could stop an armor piercing bullet with one glance. Folks might have the balls to start a fight in the Honky Tonk, but they didn’t keep them long enough to finish it. And no one argued with Tinker when he said the Honky Tonk was shutting the doors in five minutes.

  “I’ll get that money back next week,” Garrett told Angel as he slung an arm around her shoulder and walked out with her.

  “Don’t hold your breath until you do,” Angel said.

  “And don’t bet the ranch on it,” Merle said. “You’d do well to buy a table and do some practicin’ at home, boy.”

  “Been thinkin’ on that very thing,” he said.

  “Thanks for the kiss,” Travis threw over his shoulder at Cathy as he followed them out.

  “You are surely not welcome,” Cathy hollered at him.

  He stopped so fast that he almost pitched forward before he caught his balance. “What did you say?”

  “I said you are not welcome. If you ever do that again, I intend to whip your sorry ass,” she said.

  “Better bring your lunch and your best friend. It’ll be an all day affair,” he smarted off.

  Tinker took a step.

  Cathy caught his eye and shook her head. “I can take care of this.”

  Tinker sat down on a bar stool, folded his massive arms across his chest, and said, “You don’t want to tangle with her, mister. Ever heard of an equalizer? Well, I’m her equalizer. She can’t take care of you then she nods at me, and believe me, I can. If the lady says she don’t want another kiss from you, I reckon you’d damn sure better not kiss her again.”

  Cathy was shocked. She had never heard that many words from Tinker all combined, much less at one time.

  Travis shot her a dirty look and stormed out of the joint. He hadn’t gone into the beer joint with intentions of making anyone angry. He’d thought the kiss was a damn fine one. Why was she so angry? Was the good lookin’ redneck woman married? Shit, was she married to that bouncer? What in the hell had he done?

  * * *

  Cathy kicked off her sneakers and propped her feet on a table as she tilted up a longneck bottle of Coors and downed a fourth of it before coming up for air with a big healthy burp.

  “And that is proof positive that I’m a redneck woman. Happy New Year’s to me.” She raised her bottle high and looked around at the mess. It would take most of the next morning to clean it, but that was the life of a bar owner. Daisy had taught her that in the beginning. Have a beer to relax and go to bed after closing. Get up the next morning to sweep up the mess and mop the floors, restock, and prepare for that night’s business.

  The Honky Tonk phone sitting on the bar rang and she ran to answer it. Caller ID let her know it was Daisy calling from northern Oklahoma.

  “Daisy, I survived,” she shouted excitedly into the phone. “I made it through the first big holiday and everything went good all except for one incident. Tinker only had to break up one fight and that was between two women who bared their claws over an old boyfriend. Tinker put them on the porch to cool off and they’d come back inside a few minutes later giggling like schoolgirls with their arms around each other.”

  “I knew you’d do fine,” Daisy said.

  “What are you doing still up?” Cathy asked.

  “Party ain’t over yet here,” Daisy said. “I just wanted to tell you Happy New Year.”

  Cathy sighed. “I miss you.”

  “Me too. Now what about the incident?”

  “I’d love to see your face when I tell it but here goes.” Cathy told her the story of being kissed on the dance floor by Travis Henry.

  “Did you deck him?” Daisy asked.

  “No, I didn’t. I was too damned shocked. Remember when we were sixteen and you loaned me that old junker to go to the football game so I could watch Bobby Cole play? Remember he was the quarterback and I had a horrible crush on him?”

  Daisy giggled. “I remember that you totaled my car. Seems like I do remember you were going to a football game.”

  “Well, Travis Henry reminded me of
that quarterback. I swear the devil sent him here to tempt me. He’s evidently a friend of Angel’s and just passing through. The way his kiss made me go all gushy it’d be better if he wasn’t around. The temptation might send me right into another messy relationship. My lips are still burning like hell from the kiss and that was more than two hours ago.”

  “Think Chigger’s momma has been praying to God to knock you off the wagon?” Daisy asked.

  “What wagon? I’m not an alcoholic,” Cathy said.

  “The WPSA wagon. You know, the Wild Passionate Sex Anonymous wagon,” Daisy teased.

  “I hadn’t thought of that. I figured she’d be trying to fix me up through Chigger, not praying for me. But one kiss isn’t going to make me fall off my wagon, yet.”

  “Got to go. Jarod is kissing my neck and, honey, I’m not on the wagon.” Daisy giggled again and the line went dead.

  Cathy slumped down on the nearest bar stool.

  Everything changes; everything stays the same. The Honky Tonk hadn’t changed a bit since she’d inherited it. The building was the same old weathered wood saloon it had been for more than forty years. The two jukeboxes still stood on the south wall with the pool tables. The bar still stretched out across the length of the back of the big rectangular room. The neon sign still flashed HONKY TONK from eight o’clock until two.

  But the customers had changed and yet they stayed the same, if that was possible. Human nature didn’t change with time, blood, or tears. Folks who liked to party and shoot pool stayed the same from one year to the next. Only their faces changed. A picture of Chigger back in her glory days flashed in Cathy’s mind along with her mother and the curse she’d put on the unmarried folks at the reception.

  Cathy moaned out loud. “I do not want a husband. A nice long affair might be nice, though. Say about six months worth of romping around with Travis Henry in a big king-sized bed or a fancy motel with a Jacuzzi.”

  She fanned her face with the back of her hand. Get thee behind me, Satan. I’ve sworn off men and besides, the way he kept looking at me says he damn sure wouldn’t be interested in a bartender for anything more than a quick one-night stand.

  She tipped the bottle back again. She missed Daisy even if she did enjoy having a bed and not having to pull out the sofa bed every night like she did when she and Daisy shared the apartment. She couldn’t wish that things would go back to the way they were because Daisy was so happy. But sitting there in the deafening quietness, she wished she had someone to share the rest of the night with.

  She looked across the dance floor at the door into her apartment. She didn’t even have to go outside and drive to her home, but the distance from the table to the door looked to be about twenty miles to her sore, tired feet. Back eight years ago when Daisy inherited the apartment with the job, it came with one rule. No men in the apartment. Ruby had told Daisy that she didn’t care if she got laid but to do it in a hayloft or a motel. Somewhere away from the Honky Tonk so she’d have time to think before she acted.

  Daisy had abided by it and told Cathy that it would save her a ton of heartache if she did the same. The question of whether she would or not had never come up until that moment. Would she let Travis into her apartment if he showed up?

  A cold breeze waved over Cathy and made her shiver.

  Does Ruby’s spirit still live in the Tonk? she wondered as she forced her tired legs to stand up and turn off the Honky Tonk lights.

  Yep, I think it does. It has to be the spirit of the Honky Tonk or else I’d done have that cowboy’s jeans down around his ankles and he’d be on his back in my bed. I’m a grown woman. I don’t pine after what I can’t have. I go after it or I let it go. I’ll decide later which one I intend to do. Probably won’t have to decide though, because he won’t ever come back here again.

  The living room still had the same leather sofa Daisy had left behind and the entertainment unit that housed a television and a CD player. Cathy had added a rocking chair with bright yellow cushions and a grouping of pictures of her family on the wall behind the sofa. Scented candles were scattered everywhere, aromas blending to give the whole apartment the smell of a candle shop.

  Cathy looked at the picture of her mother and father on their wedding day. They’d both been gone for several years now, but time hadn’t erased a longing to talk to them. There was an old black and white photo of her grandparents and several of her and Daisy when they were kids: when they went fishing in Grandpa O’Dell’s pond; making cookies with Granny O’Dell; camping out at the foot of the mountain with the whole family.

  Perched on the television and the end tables were photos of the happy times in Mingus: Cathy and Daisy at Daisy’s wedding the previous fall; one of Cathy just seconds after she caught the bride’s bouquet. Evidently that old wives’ tale about the girl who caught the bouquet being the next bride was an urban myth. Joe Bob and Billy Bob had both beat her to the altar and stopped coming into the Honky Tonk when they did.

  Nothing—be it man, woman, or an angel with a golden halo walking a tightrope bearing roses and singing “Redneck Woman”—would keep her from the Honky Tonk. That was the pure guaran-damned-teed gospel and could be written in stone and propped up beside the neon Honky Tonk sign.

  “I’m glad I came to Mingus and I’m so tired if I don’t get a shower I’m going to fall down on this floor and wake up tomorrow morning smelling like the bottom of a two-day-old ashtray,” she mumbled.

  She tossed her jeans and T-shirt in the general direction of the hamper at the end of the hallway and headed for the bathroom where she let the water warm up before she stepped inside. She lathered up her hair and then let the hot spray beat down on her tired shoulders.

  When she finished she wrapped up in a towel, padded back to her bedroom, and put on her favorite pair of faded red flannel pajamas before slipping into the big king-sized bed.

  “I might not have put the fear of God into Travis, but that look he shot me as he left said he’d never set foot in the Tonk again. I wonder what he does for a living. Is he a rancher like Jarod or is he a professional football player for the Dallas Cowboys? Whatever he is or does, he’s one fine looking cowboy and his kisses are delicious.”

  She fell asleep quickly and dreamed about Travis. They were arguing on the porch of the Honky Tonk about whether or not she was going to sell it.

  Normally, Cathy slept until ten or eleven o’clock, but the next morning she sat straight up in bed, glanced at the clock to see that it was only eight thirty, and grabbed her head in an attempt to erase the crazy dream as well as all the racket. She’d never heard so much noise in her life. Not even when the countdown had all the women yelling “hell yeah” the night before. It sounded like Armageddon had arrived in the middle of a hurricane and tornado combined.

  She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, already getting a speech ready for whoever or whatever was making so much racket. She pulled up the mini-blinds to discover a backhoe digging a trench right down beside her property line to the road. Men were hanging on the electric poles like monkeys in palm trees. Chainsaws were tearing up the forest where the deer and wild possum lived. A plumber’s truck pulled in and two men threw open the back door and commenced to hauling out vicious looking black tubing. And everywhere the men were yelling above the machinery.

  She jerked a fleece-lined leather jacket on over her faded flannel pajamas and stomped across the bedroom and living room cussing all the way. She slung open the front door expecting her very presence and drop-dead looks would quiet the noise and put her world to rights.

  It didn’t.

  Cold wind rushed across her bare feet and shivers danced up her spine. She slammed the door shut and shoved her feet down into a worn pair of brown cowboy boots. Frozen grass crunched under her feet with every step. Her anger was fueled to the over-full level by the time she reached the edge of the wooded area.

  Leave it to a bunch of idiot men to make a mistake and start tearing up the wrong property. When sh
e got through with them they’d all have their little tails tucked between their legs and glad to go home to watch the New Year’s Day parade on their television sets. Why in the hell were they working on New Year’s Day? Didn’t they know it was a holiday?

  Someone had made a major mistake. That land belonged to Amos and he was going to be madder than a rabid coyote when she called him. She felt around in her coat pocket but her cell phone was in the apartment. Besides, she couldn’t hear jack shit with all that noise going on anyway.

  An enormous tree fell and landed so close to her backside that the dead branches tangled up in her hair. She grabbed her head and ducked.

  “Lady, what in the hell are you doing out here?” the tree trimmer yelled.

  “What in the hell are you doing out here?”

  “Getting ready for a trailer to be brought in on Monday,” he said.

  She gritted her teeth until her jaws ached. She was truly living a nightmare; maybe not one where that sexy hunk of a cowboy was arguing with her, but a bad, bad dream still. What was she going to do with neighbors? And why in the devil would they want to live right behind a noisy beer joint?

  A familiar voice yelled behind her. “Hey, Cathy!”

  She whirled to see Amos only a few feet from her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I didn’t think about all this noise and confusion interrupting your beauty sleep, but it won’t last but a couple of days. We’ll have the trailer in by Monday and then it’ll be quiet around here again.”

  “Trailer? Nobody asked me if I wanted a trailer on my land,” she hollered, even though he was right behind her.

  “It’s not on your land. The Honky Tonk land ends one foot behind your garage. Think about where you mow the backyard, Cathy. All the acres behind it belong to me,” Amos said.

  “Oh.” All the air left her lungs.

  Amos took her arm and led her back to the Honky Tonk. “Come on inside. I’ll explain.”

  When they were inside the apartment she shook off his hand and threw her coat on the couch.

  “It’s not a nightmare, is it?” she moaned.