The Honk and Holler Opening Soon

by Billie Letts

  So stop the presses

  How can I sleep in peace

  If Loni Anderson’s selling arms

  in the Middle East

  Stop the presses

  let me get my thrills

  A man from outer space

  is paying all Joan Collins’ bills

  When the song ended, the Honk exploded with cheers as Bilbo collapsed into his chair beside Peg and took a quick hit of her oxygen before he had a coughing fit and ordered another beer.

  Brenda and Hamp played for nearly an hour. She stopped to sip water a couple of times, but her voice never sounded tired or thin.

  When she announced her last song, the audience moaned with disappointment.

  “Thanks for your encouragement,” she said, “but a good rule in show business is to quit while you’re ahead. And me and Hamp seem to be ahead right now, so we’re gonna close with a song I call ‘I Knew I Could Count on You.’ ”

  I’ve never known more certainly

  Just what I wanted in my life

  But you gave me no room to wonder

  I knew that lovin’ you was right

  Brenda smiled at Hamp as he joined her in the chorus.

  I knew I could count on you

  To push and pull me through

  I knew I could count on you

  To count on me, too

  Vena, who had moved in beside Caney, felt him reach for her hand, and she gave it.

  God saw me in my despair

  Saw that I needed someone to care

  I needed you to make everything right

  And bring some love into my life

  Everyone waited until Hamp struck the final note; then, leaping to their feet, they clapped, cheered and whistled.

  Brenda stood and blew them a kiss. Hamp, nodding shyly when someone called out his name, tried to back away to let Brenda have her moment, but before he was beyond her reach, she slipped her arm around his waist and pulled him in beside her, then, together, they bowed.

  MollyO, her eyes fixed on her daughter, was crying quietly as she whispered, “Oh, Dewey. I wish you were here tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  VENA HAD BEEN FIGHTING off the fear that she was pregnant for over a month. In the beginning, she tried to tell herself she was worrying over nothing. After all, her periods had been erratic since the abortion when she was seventeen, so being late wasn’t unusual for her. Sometimes she went seven or eight weeks without starting, but this time there was something else, something she couldn’t quite grab hold of.

  But she thought it might be connected to the dreams.

  They started that first night she’d been with Caney, but they didn’t have anything to do with him or with a baby. They were always about Helen.

  In the dreams, she and Helen were at the home place, a tacky ranch eighteen miles from Thorndale, Texas, where their father worked as a well digger when he could find work, sold and traded horses when he couldn’t.

  He’d always liked calling their place the Takes Horse spread, but it didn’t spread very far… six acres of scrub oak with a gray four-room house, barn and chicken coop, a shallow creek and a dozen junkers—mostly pickups wrecked on the central Texas farm roads. Bashed-up, burned-out hulls lined up like rotten teeth against a fence that sagged like a frown.

  But in Vena’s dream, it always looked better.

  She would see herself, a child, walking across a neat lawn toward the house, a white house now with green shutters, windowboxes brilliant with flowers of yellows and reds, and on the porch, Helen, an adult, wearing a heavy coat and a man’s hat pulled low on her forehead.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Vena,” she would say as she came out to meet her. “I’ve got something for you.”

  Then Helen would take her hand to lead her to the pet cemetery out back where they had buried Helen’s animals, the ones too sick or injured for Vena to save, and others found dead on the road or in the fields.

  “I think it’s here.” Helen would point to the graves, mounds of dirt with tiny wooden crosses on which she had carved the names she’d given to the animals buried there.

  Then she’d begin to dig with her hands, scooping out dirt quickly until she uncovered a squirrel or bird, cat or possum, dog, raccoon.

  “Not here,” she’d say, moving on to another grave, her digging becoming more frenzied with each one.

  Then the dream would shift somehow and Helen would be in the barn, searching through the horse stalls, the tack room, the hayloft. By then she was panicked, bolting from place to place.

  When she ran from the barn to the chicken coop, Vena followed, but more slowly now, her legs beginning to feel heavy, her feet weighted. With chickens flying, Helen tore into their nests, crying now and calling to Vena, “I think it’s here,” but her hands always came up empty.

  Then she was galloping across a field planted in corn, but the crop was dead, the stalks so dry they rattled, dust swirling around her in dark clouds as she raced on. Vena, falling farther and farther behind, could hear Helen shouting from the distance, “Hurry, Vena!”

  She could see Helen far ahead, but the dust, thicker and black, smelled of smoke that choked off her breath. If only, she thought, she could make it to the creek.

  Then suddenly, the field burst into flame, the cornstalks blazing as, still, Helen called, “Hurry! Hurry!”

  Vena tried to shout a warning as the fire spread before her, but it was too late. She could see flames begin to lick at the tail of Helen’s coat, then, catching, crawl upward across her back, her shoulders, her hair.

  And the last thing Vena would see was the hat Helen wore as fire flashed through the crown.

  “Mr. Chaney,” Bui said, starting out the back door with a load of trash, “is bus for you?”

  “What?” Caney was dipping chili into a plastic bowl.

  “Bus.”

  Caney looked up to see Bui pointing through the door.

  “Yeah. I used to drive it to rodeos.”

  “Bus can go?”

  “Nah. It was shot when I parked it there. And that was fourteen years ago.”

  “What wrong with bus?”

  “Oh, the carburetor’s bad, it needs a new brake drum. Grease pan’s got a hole in it.”

  “I fix.”

  “Hell, Bui. It’d cost more money than it’s worth. It’d have to have some tires, a new muffler…”

  “Cost is free.”

  Caney clapped a lid on the bowl of chili, then turned to Bui.

  “How’s that?”

  “My friend have other bus, some pieces still good.”

  “Parts, you mean?”

  “Yes. Some parts can use for fix your bus. Can trade old for new. Bad for bester. I fix bus for no money, I think so.”

  “Well, if that’s what you want to do, it’s okay by me.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chaney. Good to have bus go.”

  “What the devil you gonna do with it? Start your own bus line?”

  “Yes, but only Sunday. My bus be a Sunday bus.” Bui smiled, then went through the door, the screen slamming behind him.

  Caney wheeled out front where Wilma, talking to MollyO, was waiting for the chili.

  “Well, I thought she was great, just great,” Wilma said. “I mean she is so talented, MollyO. I had no idea.”

  MollyO beamed. “Yeah, it was a good night, wasn’t it?”

  “Good? Why, it was wonderful. You know, when she goes back to Nashville—”

  “Oh, she’s not going back.”

  “She’s not?”

  “No. I believe she’s got other things on her mind now.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, she and Hamp are getting pretty close.”

  “Oh, I could tell from the way he looked at her that something besides music was going on.”

  “I think things might be getting pretty serious between them.”

  “Here’s your chili, Wilma.”

  “It’s for Rex. He’s
home complaining of his gallbladder. So what does he want? Chili.” Wilma made a face of disapproval, then pulled two bills from her purse and handed them to Caney. “Guess I’d better get down to the office. Got a couple of houses to show to Frances Dunn. You hear that she and Luter are splitting up?”

  “Is that right?”

  “I hear she’s involved with someone, but I don’t know who.”

  “Ask Wanda Sue.”

  “Oh, I won’t have to ask. She’ll volunteer it.” Wilma slid off the stool, grabbed her purse and chili. “See you all later.”

  As soon as Wilma was out the door, Caney said, “You know, MollyO, you might be setting yourself up for another disappointment.”

  “How’s that?”

  “This thing you’re building up about Hamp and Brenda.”

  “Now don’t get the wrong idea, Caney. I’m not butting into that. That’s their business.”

  “I have a hard time believing Brenda’s through with show business.”

  “But things have changed now, Caney. After what she’s been through, losing the baby and all.”

  “MollyO, she didn’t ‘lose’ that baby.”

  “Well, same thing. You know, she’s still so young that something like that—”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. She’s seventeen, pretty damned unpredictable. I’m just not sure you ought to be encouraging this business with Hamp right now.”

  “Oh no, Caney. I’m not. That’s between her and Hamp. Last thing she needs is to have me trying to push her into something before she’s ready.”

  “You feeling okay, Vena?” MollyO asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Well, you’re looking a little peaked, I’ve noticed. Kind of pale.”

  “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.”

  MollyO knew that Vena was sharing Caney’s bed now, had known it for weeks, but she’d been too worried about Brenda to get into that. Besides, Caney seemed happy, really happy, for the first time since he’d come back from Vietnam.

  “Why don’t you sit down and let me get you a bowl of soup. Get off your feet for a while.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry yet.” Vena could feel a sourness in her mouth at the thought of food. “Maybe a little later.”

  Bui came from the kitchen with a tray of clean plates. Just as he set them down, he glanced outside and saw the mail truck pulling up, which sent him dashing out the door.

  “That Bui is sure anxious about the mail these days.”

  They watched as he took the mail from the carrier, then ripped open a letter and stood beside the road reading it.

  “Must’ve got what he was waiting for.”

  Moments later, he wheeled, sprinted across the lot, then burst through the door, his face wet with tears.

  “My baby borned!”

  “Your wife had a baby?” MollyO said in amazement.

  “Yes! Baby girl! Wife and baby leave Vietnam soon. Come to America to living with me.”

  “Congratulations, Bui,” Vena said. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be a father?”

  “Big surprise.”

  “Bui,” MollyO said, hoping she didn’t sound too much like Wanda Sue, “when did you say you left Vietnam?”

  “More than two year.”

  MollyO, in what was a rare instance for her, was speechless.

  “Take long time to make good baby,” Bui explained. “Long time.” Then, laughing, he hurried to the kitchen to tell Caney the news.

  “Hamp, I hope I’m not becoming a pest,” MollyO said.

  “I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you, too.”

  “I just had to tell you how much I appreciate you getting Brenda involved in her music again.”

  “Well, it was your idea, really. But it was a good one.”

  “She’s feeling so much better now. Feeling better about herself, and part of that is because of you.”

  “Mrs. O’Keefe, I think you know how I feel about Brenda.”

  “I do, Hamp. And I think she feels the same way about you.”

  “You do?” Hamp let out a breath and smiled. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  “Me too. You’re good for her.”

  “You know, I’ve… well, I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her, in seventh grade. But when we started to go together, when she said she’d go steady with me…”

  “Oh, that’s been ages ago, Hamp. She’s changed, grown up, matured.”

  “That guy who was gonna marry her, the one who got her pregnant…”

  “He’s out of the picture, I can promise you that, Hamp. She never even mentions him anymore.”

  “I’m glad to know that.”

  “No, the only person she ever talks about is you.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “You know, I been thinking… Well, it might be too soon to talk about it, but…”

  “What, Hamp? You can talk to me about anything.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking that maybe I might ask Brenda to marry me. I mean, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Oh, Hamp. Nothing could make me any happier than to see you two married, settled down. Starting a family.”

  “We could live out at my place. My folks have a trailer out there. Used to have a farm hand living in it, but it’s empty now.”

  “It’d be perfect, Hamp. Just perfect!”

  “Well, I wanted to talk to you about it first, see what you thought. See if it seemed too soon after her getting all tangled up, losing her baby.”

  “I don’t think it’s too soon at all! Besides, the best way to get over a miscarriage is to get pregnant again. The sooner the better.”

  “Okay, then. I’m gonna give this some more thought, but—”

  “Good idea. Don’t rush into anything, but don’t wait too long, Hamp. You never can tell what tomorrow will bring. Just never can tell.”

  MollyO had gone home before seven following a brisk dinner trade. Since then, Vena had handled the dining room and the curb, enough business to keep her on the move until eight-thirty when everyone had cleared out except for a couple of beer drinkers at a table inside. But she could tell they were looking for more action than the Honk offered, so she figured they wouldn’t stay much longer.

  “Caney, I think I’m going to go on back and take a hot bath. I’m beat.”

  “You go on. Soon as those two leave, I’m gonna close up.”

  “Need any help?”

  “Nah, Bui’s still around.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Out back.”

  “Gone to give Spot and the gelding their midnight ‘snake’?”

  “Yeah.” Caney grinned.

  “He’s making a habit of that now, isn’t he?”

  “You know, after I saw how jumpy he was around the gelding, I never thought he’d go near a horse again. Now, he’s treating the damned thing like a pet. If you’ve noticed that the stew’s a little shy of carrots, it’s because Bui’s sneaking them out of the vegetable bin so there’ll be enough for the gelding.”

  “You think he’ll ever get up the nerve to ride him?”

  “Might be. I haven’t seen him back off from anything yet.”

  “Okay,” Vena said as she started for the bedroom. “I’m going to go soak for a while.”

  “Don’t you want something to eat first? I didn’t see you have any supper.”

  “Yeah, I had a bite,” she lied, then she turned and walked away.

  The beer drinkers left a few minutes later and Caney turned off the sign, then went to the back door where he watched Bui coming back, his flashlight bobbing across the dark field.

  But what he couldn’t see was Sam Kellam’s pickup pulled off on a dirt road a hundred yards east of the pasture. And Bui didn’t see it either.

  Chapter Thirty

  AS MOLLYO WANDERED the aisles of the Super Saver, she hummed the tune to one of Brenda’s songs, and once, when she
was going for a bag of potato chips, she even did a little dance step.

  In the days following the concert, with her worry about Brenda fading, she was often surprised to find herself singing and dancing. But she wasn’t embarrassed, even when someone in the Honk would notice and make some crack about it. She felt too happy to care.

  She and Brenda were getting along so well now that she’d started leaving work right after supper, anxious to be at home. Since the concert, Brenda had been a different person, and they’d been able to talk, really talk, for the first time ever. One night they’d even talked about the abortion, and though Brenda didn’t actually say she was sorry about it, MollyO could tell she was.

  She was so eager now to get home that she hated taking the time to shop for groceries, but tonight she needed to pick up some snacks Brenda had asked for: Baby Ruths and Cap’n Crunch, Pop-Tarts and Cracker Jacks. And butter pecan ice cream.

  When she turned down the frozen foods section, she was surprised to run into Life, but he wasn’t at all surprised to see her.

  He’d followed her to the Super Saver, had been following her ever since she’d entered the store. He’d started to catch up with her several times already, but he enjoyed watching the way she walked as she pushed the shopping cart ahead of her, so he’d been content just to stay behind. But now, as she turned down the last aisle, he figured he’d better make his move.

  “Why, hello, Life. You’re doing your shopping kind of late, aren’t you?”

  “No, this is the time I usually come here. It’s not so crowded.”

  “Well, you must not need much.”

  Suddenly aware that he had no basket and nothing in his hands, Life reached quickly into one of the freezers and picked up the first thing he touched, a package of frozen lima beans.

  “Well, I ran out of these.”

  “Lima beans? Why, you hate lima beans.”

  “No I don’t,” he said defensively.

  “You sure do. Every time Caney has them on the lunch special, you have me substitute a salad.”

  “Yeah, but I eat them every evening.”

  “Life, you eat at the Honk every evening.”

  “I mean later. Like for a midnight snack.”

  “A midnight snack of lima beans?”