“I’d of bet my boots he’d cause trouble. He had hopes of marryin’ Dolly and gettin’ his hands on the court.”
“That will never happen. Oh, he might marry Mama. But he’ll not get Daddy’s court. I’ll burn it to the ground first. One of my renters broke down the door and took the radio or I’d have lost my night’s receipts.”
“Jake, huh?” Mr. Santez went on without waiting for her to confirm his question or express her surprise. “Jake’s a good man to have on your side. I’m glad he’s up there.”
“I told Mr. Ramero to break down the door, but Frank is threatening to go to the sheriff and have his parole revoked.”
“Won’t do him no good if you tell how it was. Sheriff Pleggenkuhle knows what Frank Pierce is.”
“How did a man with a name like Pleggenkuhle get elected sheriff in a county where there are so many Mexicans?”
“Wait’ll you meet him. Big man, loud voice, but straight as a string and fair to a fault. If he can’t corral ’em by talkin’ to ’em, he’ll bash heads. He’s been good for the county.”
“I hope he’ll do something about Frank.”
“Rosa sent a box for me to brin’ up to ya. It’s stuff that we pass down through the family. Both my girls and their babies has used ’em. Rosa said they didn’t need to be sittin’ around waitin’ for one of the girls to have another baby. Use whatever you want, and hand ’em back when you’re done with ’em. Rosa’ll keep ’em and pass ’em on.”
Tears came to Mary Lee’s eyes. “Tell Rosa that I appreciate it and that I’ll take good care of everything and send them back.”
“Now, now. Ain’t no need to blubber ’bout it. I’ll bring the box up sometime today. It’s too heavy for ya to be totin’ back up the hill.”
“I have a boy helping me. He’s going to fix our old coaster wagon. When he gets it fixed, I’ll have him come get the box.”
“Well, now, it’s good ya got someone to help. Tramp, is he?”
“I guess so. He’s only thirteen. He’s good help.”
“Ya got to be careful, Mary Lee. Rosa’s been helpin’ out down at the soup kitchens. Tramps and hobos are comin’ through every day. Some of ’em are good men down on their luck. But some are just as sorry as sin.”
“I’ll be careful.”
After Mary Lee used the telephone, she walked slowly back up the hill to the motor court. The company had refused to connect the phone unless she paid the back bill of twenty-two dollars. Her mother had not paid one bill after her father died.
Knowing that she needed advice on how to handle Frank Pierce, she had called the sheriff and asked him to stop by the court when he had time.
Disappointed, but determined, Mary Lee plunged into the day’s work. She had made six dollars last night and four dollars and fifty cents plus the dollar for doing Jake Ramero’s laundry the day before. She had the ten she had been saving for the baby. The water and electric bills were coming up, and she would have to buy groceries. There was no way she could have paid on the telephone bill even if they had allowed her to pay only part of it.
After the cabins were cleaned and while the sheets were drying on the line, she mixed a bucket of water and vinegar, and she and Eli washed the windows in the cabins. She was standing on a chair washing the outside of the windows in number six when the sheriff drove in. She got down off the chair and went to meet him.
“Hello, Sheriff. I’m Mary Lee Clawson, Scott Finley’s daughter.”
“Howdy, young lady. I heard that you were back running the place.”
“I left the message for you to come by because I’m having trouble with one of the renters. Frank Pierce and my mother claim that she rented him the number one cabin. One time she said she’d rented it for a year, and one time he said for a month. He claims to have given her money, but so far he hasn’t produced a receipt.”
“Your mother was in charge of the court when she rented it?”
“Yes, sir. I’d like to get him out.”
“I don’t see how you can do that unless you give him his money back.”
“Last night he turned his radio up so loud my other renters threatened to leave —”
“I heard about it. He said Jake Ramero broke down his door, assaulted him, then stole his radio.”
“You believed him?”
“Let’s just say I keep an open mind where Frank is concerned.”
“When I asked him to turn down the radio, he pushed me, almost shoving me down. Mr. Ramero came to help me, and I asked him to break down the door and take the radio before my other renters demanded their money back.”
“Jake’s on parole, you know. Assaulting Frank, if he pressed charges, would be enough to get Jake sent back to serve the rest of his sentence.”
“He was protecting me, Sheriff. I swear it.”
“Frank said that he was held down and threatened —”
“By a thirteen-year-old boy with a stick! I need to get Frank out of here so I can clean up that cabin and rent it.”
“Where does your mother stand on this?”
Embarrassed, Mary Lee looked away from the big man. “Mama has been either drunk or with a hangover ever since I came home. More than likely she’ll say he paid her for a year.”
“I can’t see that I can do anything for you unless he causes another disturbance and I’m called.”
“You can’t make him move?”
“Not if Mrs. Finley says he paid her rent.”
“What about Mr. Ramero?”
“I’ll have to have witnesses before I make a report to his parole officer.” Sheriff Pleggenkuhle grinned.
“You’ll not get any witnesses from here,” Mary Lee said stiffly.
“I didn’t think so. Tell you what: I’ll have my deputy swing by here a couple times a night for a while.”
“Couldn’t you put Frank in jail or something?” Mary Lee asked desperately.
“Not unless I have something to charge him with.”
“I could file charges saying he’s wrecked one of the cabins. He has. It’s filthy.”
“Has he broken any windows?”
“No.”
“Well, tell Jake to be careful. I’d hate like hell to have to take him in. If you have any trouble, call me.”
“I don’t have a phone, Sheriff. But I have a boy helping me. He can run up to the telephone office.”
Mary Lee’s shoulders slumped as she watched the sheriff drive away. She couldn’t get rid of Frank Pierce, but she had set the sheriff straight on Jake’s involvement. Lord, she’d hate it if he had to go back to prison because of her.
It was late in the afternoon when Eli proudly showed her the coaster wagon. He had nailed a board across the front and attached the wagon tongue. Mary Lee made a big to-do about how handy he was, then asked him to go to Mr. Santez’s gas station and get a box.
She washed, combed her hair, put on one of her daddy’s clean shirts and sat on the front steps. Her mind wandered as she watched the cars go by on the highway, listened to the sound of the rubber tires meeting the concrete and the purr of passing engines. Route 66, the Mother Road, was carrying thousands of families fleeing the dust bowls of Oklahoma and the arid lands of Kansas and Texas westward to the fertile fields of California.
Had things been different, Mary Lee would have reveled in the adventure of traveling the road through the wind-blown plains, deep forests and high mountain passes. But her place was here, beside the road, watching those who passed by and wishing them Godspeed.
Eli returned with a cardboard box in the wagon bed. She followed him around to the back of the house.
“Mr. Santez said you hadn’t ought to be liftin’ heavy stuff. Said it would be hard on ya when your baby came.”
“He’s a nice man.” Mary Lee couldn’t get used to speaking so frankly about her condition to men and boys, but Eli evidently thought nothing about it.
“I’ll carry the box to your room.”
“Thanks. Oh, there’s
a car turning in. If they take the cabin, we’ll be full up.” Mary Lee hurried to greet the man stepping out of the car.
It wasn’t until the four cabins were rented and the light turned off over the No Vacancy sign that Mary Lee had time to open the box from Rosa Santez. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she lifted out baby gowns, bands, booties, and several small flannel blankets. There were three maternity dresses with drawstrings at the waist, and a nice skirt with matching overblouse. Everything was here that she would need for the baby for the first few months.
Mary Lee opened the bottom drawer of her chest to put away the baby clothes and saw the strap on her handbag sticking out from the drawer above. A premonition caused her heart to sink even before she opened the purse to check her money.
The ten dollars she had tucked away for the baby was gone. It hurt dreadfully to lose the money, but it hurt even more knowing who had taken it. She stood for a long moment, holding her purse to her chest. How could her own mother do this to her? She fought back the storm of tears that threatened to sweep over her. She could not break down. She could not let go. The words repeated themselves over and over in her mind. She had to cope. There was no one to help her. She thanked the Lord she had locked the rent money in her suitcase.
Hurt gave way to anger. She went through the bathroom to her mother’s room, but the door wouldn’t open; something was wedged against it. The door going into the bedroom from the living room was locked. Mary Lee hurried out the back to where Eli sat on the step of the washhouse.
“Eli, have you seen my mother?”
“She left before I went to get the box.”
“Did she go to town?”
“She went that way.”
Mary Lee was not only angry, she was heartsick. She had no doubt that the ten dollars she had saved for her baby would be spent on booze at one of the dives in town. Dolly would be the big spender tonight and treat her cronies.
The jukebox was blaring. The Texas Playboys were playing “San Antonio Rose” when Jake, after eating at Ruby’s, walked into the Red Pepper Corral and took a seat at the bar. Paco was busy drawing beer in the heavy mugs and handing out bottles from the cooler. A few couples were dancing on the small floor. He was smiling when he came down the bar with a mug of beer for Jake.
“Business is good tonight.”
“I could tell by the grin on your face.”
“Lon Delano and a couple of pals are over there in the corner with Frank Pierce and Dolly Finley.”
“I saw them when I came in. Started to back out, but what the hell —I didn’t come in to prove my dick is bigger than theirs. I’ve as much right to come in here as they have.”
“Frank’s in a mean mood.”
“I’ll not start trouble if he doesn’t.”
“He’s brayin’ about you takin’ his radio and how it took you and a kid with a ball bat to get it away from him.”
Jake grunted and took a deep drink from his glass. “Dolly’s treatin’ tonight.”
“Where’d she get the money? They can’t even connect their telephone.”
“She bought several rounds for the whole bunch.”
“If she messes around with that trash she’ll get more than she bargained for.”
Paco wiped the bar vigorously. “They’re making a fool of her.”
“What do you care?”
“I hate to see any woman, even an old drunk like Dolly, being used by horseshit like Delano and Frank.”
“She wouldn’t thank you for those thoughts.” Jake emptied his glass.
“I hear her girl is cleaning up the court and it’s looking presentable again.”
“She’s working her tail off. I’ve not seen Dolly lift a hand.”
“What happened ’tween you and Frank?”
“The bastard had his radio turned up so loud you could hear it a block away. Mary Lee asked him to turn it down and he shoved her. I stepped in so her overnighters wouldn’t demand their money back and leave.”
“Careful you don’t give anyone cause to send you back to the pen.”
“If I think there’s a chance, I’ll be long gone. I’m not going back to that hellhole for something I didn’t do!”
Lon Delano, a thick-chested man who tried to make up for the loss of hair on the top of his head by wearing his sideburns long and growing a thick mustache, led Dolly onto the dance floor. It was a pathetic sight. Her scrawny arms were around his neck. Soon the fingers of the hand cupping her buttock were pleating her dress. The hem came up the backs of her thighs and had almost reached her bottom. Dolly was either unaware of it or didn’t care.
Paco growled his disapproval. He reached under the counter and brought out a heavy leather strap with a weight on the end. He slapped it on the counter.
“That’s gone about as far as it’ll go on my dance floor.”
“She’s drunk.”
“He isn’t.” Swinging the sap by the end, Paco walked from around the counter and out onto the floor. He tapped Lon on the shoulder. “If you’re wantin’ to get in her drawers, take her outside.”
“What’s he sayin’, honey? What’s he sayin’?”
“He’s sayin’ you’re the prettiest gal in here tonight.” Lon winked at Paco. “Let’s go sit awhile.” With an arm around Dolly, he urged her back to the booth.
“What was that about?” Frank asked belligerently.
“Nothin’ important.”
“I’ve seen him swing that sap. It’d break a man’s jaw.” Lon sat close to Dolly.
“She shore don’t look like she’s goin’ to be a grandma, does she, Frank?”
“Hell, she don’t act like she’s goin’ to be a grandma, either.”
“When is your gal goin’ to pop out that youngun?”
“Haven’t asked her.”
“She goin’ to get Ocie to help her raise the kid?”
“She’d better get somebody to help her. I sure ain’t.”
“Don’t blame ya, honeybunch. You’re too young and pretty to be tied down to a squalling kid.”
“Ah, pshaw. Ya don’t have to butter me up.”
“I’m not butterin’ ya.”
“What’a ya call it, then?”
“Tellin’ a pretty woman I’d like to come callin’ on ya.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Frank said. “Dolly’s my girl.”
“You boys goin’ to fight over me?” Dolly asked coyly.
“Damn right,” Frank said, and winked at Lon.
Lon gritted his teeth and looked away. Ugly old bitch! Frank can have her. I wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire, if it wasn’t for her girl and the brat in her belly.
“You’re welcome to come anytime.” Dolly dug into her pocket and put some money on the table. “I’m ready for another drink. How about you, sugar?”
Chapter 7
THE LIGHT OF DAWN WAS COMING IN through her bedroom window when Mary Lee heard Jake’s truck go by the house. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting her head clear before she stood and went to the bathroom. Her back and shoulders ached as they had each morning since she returned to the motor court. Thank goodness she was past the period of morning sickness.
Mary Lee washed her face and hands, and as she dried them, she looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink. She had never considered herself pretty, merely pleasant-looking. Now she looked … haggard. Dark smudges underlined her eyes, and because her face was thinner, her nose appeared sharper and her cheekbones stood out.
She had to take the time to go see Dr. Morris.
After scrubbing her teeth, she brushed the thick hair back from her face and looped it behind her ears. It was getting too long. One of these days soon she was going to have to cut the ends. Maybe she could get Eli to do it.
In the kitchen she filled the teakettle, set it over the kerosene burner and took down the heavy crockery pitcher to make tea. She hadn’t been able to drink coffee since she had become pregnant. Mary Lee wasn’t in
the mood to eat, but knew that she must and that Eli would be hungry. Fifteen minutes later biscuits were in the oven.
As the morning progressed, she buried herself in the work and tried not to dwell on her mother’s betrayal. She had been awake when Dolly came in last night, or rather early this morning. Someone had helped her, because later Mary Lee had heard heavy footsteps leaving the house.
Mary Lee had gone over and over in her mind what she was going to say to Dolly when she sobered up. Finally she decided that, other than letting her know that she was aware who had taken her money, she wouldn’t distress herself by saying more. Her mother hadn’t paid attention to her husband, so why would she pay attention to what her daughter had to say?
Mary Lee’s problems seemed to multiply later in the morning when a big black car drove in off the highway as she was coming out of a cabin with cleaning supplies. The car moved slowly toward her and stopped. She made no attempt to greet the man who got out, but proceeded on to the last cabin to be cleaned.
Anger, fear and resentment set her heart hammering when Ocie Clawson came to the door.
“Come out here, girl,” he demanded gruffly.
“What do you want?”
“What are ya hidin’ for? Are ya ashamed to face me?”
The harsh words brought Mary Lee out the door. She stood with her hands on her hips.
“You’ve got a nerve to come here and face me, you cold-hearted old … toad!”
“Well, now, that’s more like it. Is that Bobby’s kid in yore belly?”
Mary Lee’s face went hot and cold by turns. She stared into sharp blue eyes that stared back at her from beneath shaggy white brows. Ocie Clawson was a big man, long in the body, with broad shoulders and deep chest. Age had thickened his middle and thinned his hair. A stained white mustache curved down on each side of his mouth. He wore a five-dollar Stetson and hand-tooled boots.
“It’s none of your business who fathered my child.” Amazement and anger that he would ask such a question warred in her chest.
“I think it is. If it’s Bobby’s kid, it’s a Clawson and I’ll see that it’s reared right!”
“Well, it isn’t Bobby’s. So you can forget that. I had so many men I don’t know who the father is.”
Song of the Road Page 7
