Song of the Road

by Dorothy Garlock

  The banker didn’t give Mary Lee the courtesy of standing when she entered the office. Nor did he greet her or ask her to sit down.

  “Make it snappy. I’ve an appointment.”

  “I want to know how much interest I will owe if I pay off the three-hundred-dollar loan.”

  He twirled a pencil around with blunt fingers. “Forty-five dollars,” he snapped. His eyes were on her face, his brows drawn together while he waited for her to say something.

  She remained quiet, opened her purse, took out a handful of bills and placed them on the desk.

  “Three hundred and twenty-five dollars. The twenty-five is the interest.”

  Jumping to his feet, the banker was speechless although his mouth moved and his jaws puffed out. Mary Lee wanted to laugh. He looked as if he had swallowed a frog.

  “Where did you get this money?” he demanded.

  “That is none of your business. Count it and give me a receipt.”

  “I can’t take this money until I know that it isn’t stolen. How come it’s in cash? It looks mighty suspicious to me. Are you bootlegging or running a house of ill repute out there on the highway?”

  “That, too, is none of your business. But if you want to make a formal complaint, go ahead. I’ll have reason to sue your socks off. Now, are you going to give me a receipt and the loan contract marked paid or will I send Eli for my lawyer?”

  Mary Lee remembered the other time she had come to this office and this man had made her feel as if she were trash. Never again was she going to be treated as she had been that day.

  The banker sat back down in his chair and reached for the stack of bills. With fingers that trembled, he counted them slowly, placing them in stacks of one hundred dollars.

  “I told you the interest on three hundred dollars was forty-five dollars.”

  “You’ve jacked up the interest and I’m not paying it. Show me the contract my father signed.”

  He jerked a pad of receipts from the desk drawer and hastily wrote on one. His jaws quivered with anger as he shoved it toward her.

  “Now get out.”

  “Not without the contract stamped ‘paid in full.’ ”

  He went to a file cabinet, pulled out a paper, stamped it with a rubber stamp and pushed it across the desk toward her. Mary Lee looked at it closely, then said sweetly:

  “Initial it, please.”

  After he scribbled something on it, she folded the paper and put it in her purse.

  “Thank you. It wasn’t pleasant doing business with you and I’m sure it will not happen again. Come on, Eli, Mr. Rosen is busy counting his pennies.” They opened the door, and Curtis Wessels almost fell into the room.

  “Did you hear it all, Curtis? I paid off the loan. Now the old skinflint can’t get his hands on the motor court. Isn’t that grand?

  “By the way, Curtis, remember when you were in the fourth grade and you messed your pants? It went down your leg and all over the floor. My whole class got an extra recess while the janitor cleaned up the mess. I never did thank you for that extra playtime. How rude of me! I’ll do it now. Thank you, Curtis, and good-bye.”

  As they went out the door, Eli was laughing so hard, he wasn’t looking where he was going and stepped on a wad of chewing gum that had softened in the sun. It stuck to the bottom of his boot and almost pulled it off. Even that was funny and caused more laughter.

  Chapter 29

  THE BLACK SEDAN PASSED SLOWLY by the motor court. A mile down the highway, it turned on a little-used road and came back toward the court through the woods, on what had once been a wagon trail.

  “Godalmighty,” Wyn said, holding on to the door. “These ruts’ll tear up the car — my ass along with it.”

  “We can’t have anything happening to your ass, now, can we, kid?”

  “We’ve been watchin’ that damn court for almost a week. I’m ready to make our move.”

  Lyle stopped the car when they were directly opposite the court and reached for the binoculars. The house and cabins were visible through the trees. It was early afternoon. Sheets flapped on the clothesline. The boy and the short, dumpy girl were working in the last cabin in the line. There was no sign of the pregnant woman. He put the binoculars down on the seat between them.

  “We know we can’t take her until after the folks who stay overnight are gone. We can’t get close to her after the cowboy and the runt come back at suppertime. The cowboy sticks to her like glue in the evening. Our best time is while the girl and the kid are cleaning the cabins, preferably the end cabin where they are now.”

  “Why can’t we just go in there in the night and take care of her and get the hell out of here?”

  “She’s not alone in the house at night. The boy is with her and the cowboy is in the cabin next to the house. I don’t think I want to tangle with him.”

  “I’m getting tired hanging around this backwater.” “Santa Rosa isn’t so bad, is it? We’ve got a nice room.” “Yeah, but we don’t go out much.”

  “The most important thing in our business, kid, is patience and blending in so folks won’t remember us.” Lyle laid his hand on Wyn’s thigh. “Killing a woman is different from killing a man. Killing a pregnant woman is really going to get folks stirred up. We’ve got to make sure we leave no trail behind when we take her.”

  “Yo’re smart, Lyle.”

  “I’ve been in this game a long time.”

  “We could’ve got more money outta Lon. He wants that ranch. He’s next in line to get it after the kid the girl’s carryin’. After we do our job, he’ll get someone else to knock off Clawson.”

  “I never concern myself with why someone wants a job done. I’m only interested in the money and saving my hide … and yours.”

  “The longer we hang around, the greater chance someone will remember us.”

  “Maybe you, not me. You’re a damn good-looking kid.” Lyle glanced at Wyn and winked.

  “Why … thanks.” Wyn grinned and winked back.

  “In some places in the city you could name your own price. You’d need to be polished up some: clothes, a decent haircut … maybe grow a mustache.”

  “Ya think so?” In his excitement Wyn began to crack his knuckles.

  “I know so. We’ll make our move tomorrow or the next day. Then we collect the rest of our money, hightail it out of here and start living the high life.”

  “They haven’t connected the telephone yet,” Mary Lee said that night as they lingered at the supper table. “The man at the telephone office said it would be several days. They have to come from Sante Fe.”

  “It’ll be connected before Eli starts to school,” Trudy said. “I’ve got a stick all ready for him to carry with him.”

  “What’ll I need a stick for?” Eli got up to bring the pitcher of tea to the table.

  “To beat off the girls swarmin’ all over you, what else?” Trudy grinned at him impishly. “Deke carries one all the time.”

  “But Deke carries his for protection against angry husbands when he flirts with their wives.” Jake looked at Mary Lee and winked.

  He had come back from their “date” a different man. A wildly happy man. He was no longer quiet or serious-faced. His green eyes danced when he smiled and laughed and teased. Love for him filled every corner of Mary Lee’s heart.

  “Love does funny things to a man.” Deke spoke seriously to Trudy. “It will turn him to jelly, make him rat on his best friend. Darlin’, if I get to actin’ like that, you can hit me in the head with a board.”

  “Darlin’, I think someone has already hit you in the head. And after Sunday, you’d better not let Jake catch you flirtin’ with his wife or he’ll hit you with more than a board.”

  “I hope you have more control over your woman than I have over mine, Jake. At times she’s as sassy as a dog with two tails.”

  “She’s right, though. I’d hate like hell to have to break both your legs.”

  “Ouch! They’re hurtin’ already.”<
br />
  After the laughter died, Mary Lee said, “Seriously. What’s the preacher going to say when Jake and I ask him to marry us? I can’t hide my … condition.”

  “He’ll say I’m damned lucky.”

  “Preachers don’t say ‘damn,’ my love.”

  “There isn’t a man alive who doesn’t think it.”

  “You can tell him that you swallowed a watermelon.” Trudy spoke as if she had an answer to the problem.

  “He might believe her if she said she swallowed a seed and the watermelon grew,” Eli said.

  Eli was happy about the wedding. He and Jake had had a long talk. Jake wanted him to go to school, and in a few years they would find a piece of land and build a horse ranch. They already had a start, Jake explained, and told him about the six good mares he had out at Quitmans. Eli readily agreed to go to school. Jake clapped him on the shoulder and asked him to go with them to Sante Fe when he and Mary Lee went to get married.

  Trudy insisted that Eli and Deke would help her clear the kitchen before Deke took her home.

  “My job is to look after you.” Jake stood and pulled Mary Lee to her feet.

  “If you’re complainin’, I’ll look after her and you can do the dishes,” Eli said.

  “Honey, we’d better get our son out from under the influence of Deke and Trudy, or he’s goin’ to turn out to be a regular smart aleck.”

  “You’ll be the head of the house.” Mary Lee looked up at Jake with love and gratitude. “It’ll be up to you to see that he walks the straight and narrow.”

  “Do you think he’s too big to take a strop to?” Jake glanced at the boy, who had clamped his trembling lower lip between his teeth.

  “Much too big, my love.”

  “We could take a tube out of the radio so he couldn’t hear Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy. That would keep him in line.”

  “How clever you are, querido,” Mary Lee laughed. “Did I say it right?”

  “Right as rain, mi tesoro.”

  Later they sat on the porch. Jake leaned on a porch post; Mary Lee leaned against him.

  “I’ll have to make us a porch swing.”

  “We used to have one. Daddy kept it painted and the chain greased so it wouldn’t squeak. Mama must have sold it.”

  “Four more days, querida, and you’ll be mine forever.” Jake’s warm lips caressed the side of her face.

  “I’m already yours forever.”

  “I wish I had more to offer you,” he groaned. “I’d give you the world if I could.”

  “You’re giving me yourself. I want nothing more.”

  Jake’s hand rested on the side of her belly. “Gaston’s quiet tonight.”

  “We should decide on a name. A real name. We can’t keep on calling him Gaston. I’ve been thinking about Scott Jacob. What do you think?”

  “Are you sure you want to put Jacob in the name?”

  “You’re going to be his papa. He’ll never know any other.”

  “I’ll be proud, querida.”

  “What was your mother’s name?”

  “Juanita Anderson Ramero. Her mother was a beautiful Spanish lady. Her father was a Texas cowboy. When she was eighteen, she married a Mexican who worked at the Clawson Ranch. He was killed two days after they were married. He was a boy from her village.”

  “You grew up on the Clawson ranch?”

  “The ranch is big. We lived on the land, but not near the ranch buildings.”

  “If we are married before the baby comes, his name will legally be Ramero.”

  “Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

  “It’s what I want. Mr. Clawson won’t have any claim on him.”

  “He’ll be our son.”

  “Will you be disappointed if it’s a girl?”

  “Not a bit. I’d have two girls to watch over and guard against horny cowpunchers.”

  “I love you, Jake Ramero. Did you see Eli’s face when you talked about him as being our son?”

  “He needs to feel like he belongs to us, honey. He tries to act grown up, but he’s just a scared boy. Believe me, I know the feeling.”

  “If I hadn’t loved you before, I would love you now.” Trudy came out to say that Deke was taking her home and that she would be back in the morning.

  “Eli’s listening to Jack Benny,” she said.

  One by one the lights in the cabins were turned off as tired travelers went to bed.

  Reluctant to leave the haven of Jake’s arms, Mary Lee cuddled against him. Between whispered confidences and loving kisses, they made plans for their future.

  “Go on and get started on number six. I’ll set the dishes in the dishpan, then go lie down for a while.”

  “Are ya havin’ pains or anythin’?” Trudy was almost as much of a worrier as Jake.

  “No pains. I get a backache from carrying this kid around all day.”

  “I wish they’d hurry and get the telephone connected.” “Maybe today. Eli will start school on Monday. I’ll ask one of Rosa’s girls to come help you. I don’t expect you to do all of this by yourself. Jake thinks I should take the breakfast signs down. He doesn’t think the profit we make is worth the trouble right now.”

  “He may be right. Come on, squirt,” she called to Eli, hovering over the radio. “Let’s get the work done; then you can listen to that thing while I take the wash off the line.”

  Eli grabbed up the bucket of supplies, the broom and the mop. Trudy went to the washhouse to get the clean, folded sheets and towels. The pair walked down the lane and disappeared in the cabin.

  Soon a black sedan came swiftly off the highway, braked and backed up beside the house. Wyn was out of the car and in the house within seconds.

  Minutes later he was backing out the door, dragging Mary Lee. She hung limp in his arms, her heels bouncing on the floor of the porch. Lyle jumped out, opened the back door of the sedan and helped Wyn put her into the car.

  “Shit, she’s heavy.” Wyn tried to shove her legs inside so he could close the door.

  Lyle hurried to the other side and pulled her across the seat.

  “Hey! Hey!”

  “Shit fire, it’s the boy.”

  Wyn hurriedly crammed Mary Lee’s legs in the car, slammed the door and jumped into the front seat. Lyle speeded out and down the highway as if demons were after him. The powerful engine in the sedan ate up the miles until they were a good distance from town.

  “It’s all right; he didn’t see anything. We’ve got a good head start. She give you any trouble?”

  “She thought I’d come to hook up the telephone. Don’t that beat all? Do I look like a telephone man? I just walked up to her and popped her on the head. I didn’t realize she’d be so damn heavy. She damn near took me to the floor.”

  “We’ll get her out to the shack, then treat ourselves to a nice dinner in Sante Fe and a nice long evening in a high-class hotel room.”

  They were silent for a while, each with his own thoughts. The only sound came from Wyn, nervously cracking his knuckles.

  “This is new to you, kid. But you’ll get used to it.” “What bothers me is she’s goin’ to have a kid.”

  “Think about it like this — we wouldn’t have the job if she wasn’t going to have the kid.”

  “Guess yo’re right.”

  Wyn looked into the back to see the woman sprawled on the seat, a trickle of blood on the side of her forehead where he had hit her. She began to stir. Her hand went to her head.

  “Shit fire! She’s wakin’ up.”

  “There’s some strong cord under the seat. Climb over and tie her up.”

  While Wyn was tying Mary Lee’s hands behind her back, his forearm had rested on her swollen abdomen. He had felt the strong movement of the baby within. It jolted him. He stilled for a long moment, glad his back was to Lyle. When he finished tying her hands and feet, Wyn returned to the front seat.

  Five miles down the highway Lyle turned onto a lane. They passed through a woods, then
headed out onto rangeland.

  “Shit, Lyle, can’t we do the job here and dump her?”

  “Kid, we go by the plan. You don’t want to be ridin’ around in a bloody car, do you? We give the buyer what he wants. Lon wants her in the shack. We get the rest of our money when he finds her there.”

  The shack was built from the earth, like the houses Mexicans had been building for hundreds of years. Set back amid a stand of Douglas fir, the structure was held together by rough logs that protruded from the sun-browned adobe walls.

  Lyle braked a dozen feet from the cabin. Both men got out. Wyn lifted the crossbar on the door and threw it open. The shack was cool inside and windowless. A cot, a two-burner wood stove, a table and benches were the only furnishings.

  “All right, kid, let’s get this over with.”

  Wyn took Mary Lee’s shoulders, and Lyle her feet. They carried her into the cabin and dropped her on the hard-packed dirt floor. Her head hit hard, and she groaned. Her skirt was up around her thighs.

  “Want to see her pussy, Wyn? It’s hard to see how that brat will come out of such a small slit.”

  “Naw. ’Sides, her legs are tied.”

  “I’ll untie them if you want to see it.”

  “Naw. I’ve seen ’em before.”

  Lyle pulled a snub-nosed gun out from the inside of his shirt, spun the cylinder to check the load, then handed it, butt first, to Wyn.

  “Go ahead, kid. You’re going to have to get your feet wet sooner or later. It might as well be now.”

  Wyn hesitated, then took the gun.

  “The side of the head is the best place, quick and clean.” He threw his arm over Wyn’s shoulder in a gesture of affection, then walked to the door. “Once you do one, the rest will be easy. Soon you won’t think any more about it than if you were shooting a squirrel.”

  Wyn squatted down, took a handful of Mary Lee’s hair and turned her head. He pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot filled the room. Lyle saw her legs jerk, and he smiled. The boy was all right.

  The kid rushed for the opening, pushed Lyle out and slammed the door. After dropping the crossbar, he reeled a few feet away, bent over and vomited.