Banjo

by Graham Salisbury

  Tyrell lifted his chin. “There.”

  Spike’s house looked completely out of place. It was freshly painted. The grass was green and cut in neat rows. Flowers lined the walkway to the front door.

  Danny put his hat on and got out. He took Banjo’s leash and hooked it to his collar. Banjo jumped out and headed for the grass. Danny let him sniff and inspect and pee.

  They headed up the path.

  “Sure hope this works,” Tyrell said.

  “It’s got to.”

  Tyrell rang the doorbell and stepped back.

  A woman opened the door. A smile grew on her face. “Well, well, it’s the famous Tyrell.”

  “Hi, Janey.”

  “And who’s this handsome young man?”

  “My brother, Danny, only don’t call him handsome. His head is too big as it is.”

  Danny shoved Tyrell.

  “And he’s violent.”

  Janey reached out and shook Danny’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Danny.”

  Danny smiled. “Is Spike home?”

  “He sure is. Come on in.”

  Danny looked down at Banjo. “I’ll stay outside with him.”

  Janey crouched down and took Banjo’s face in her hands. “And who are you?” She scratched behind his ears. Banjo kissed her with his wet nose.

  “My dog, Banjo.”

  Janey looked up and smiled. “I don’t mind a dog in the house. Come on in. I’ll get Spike.”

  They waited just inside the door.

  Danny thought Spike would probably have a Harley parked in his living room, with parts spread out on a mat. And the whole house would smell like oil and gas.

  But the house was bright and clean and smelled like roses.

  Tyrell leaned close to Danny’s ear. “She probably makes Spike soak his fingernails in bleach every night after work.”

  Danny smiled.

  “Heyyy, my men,” Spike said, drying his hands with a paper towel. “To what do I owe this dubious honor?”

  Danny cocked his head. “What?”

  Spike grinned. “Thought I was just an ex-thief and a grease monkey, huh?”

  “No, I—”

  “Well I am. What’s this?” He squatted down to scratch Banjo’s chin. “Where’s the fleabite you brought in the other day? What’s the name? Ruby?”

  “Yeah, Ruby.”

  “And this is?”

  “Banjo,” Danny said, looking down at his dog.

  “This is Banjo? I thought you said…”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  “Spike, please, can you take Banjo to California with you? You’ve got to, Spike. I know Tyrell said you wouldn’t, but this isn’t a joke. I’m telling you, if I don’t get him out of this state, he’ll be taken away, maybe even killed.”

  As Danny told the story, Spike looked from Danny to Tyrell to Banjo.

  “He’s been through a lot, Spike, and none of it was his fault….He…he barely trusts me anymore, and now gunshots scare him, when they didn’t used to.”

  “Why me, Danny?”

  “Well…first of all, I trust you. Second, you like dogs. Third, you’re going far away, and Banjo can’t stay anywhere near here. And fourth…well, you do always talk about how you miss Grouch.”

  Spike nodded. “Grouch.”

  He squatted and called Banjo close. “And what do you have to say about this?”

  Banjo licked Spike’s face.

  “Janey,” Spike called. “Come here a sec.”

  She came back holding a roll of packing tape.

  “Danny is in dire need of saving this dog’s life by finding him a home. He’s been accused of chasing the neighbor’s sheep, and around here they shoot dogs that—”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “What?”

  “It’s time, Spike. Yes, we’ll take him. I heard it all.”

  Banjo sat panting.

  Janey knelt down next to Spike and reached out to Banjo.

  Banjo’s tail thumped on the floor. He scooted closer and licked Janey’s hand, then her face. Though a lump burned in Danny’s throat at the thought of giving Banjo away, he could see that Banjo liked both of them, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Spike and Janey to protect him.

  “Grouch would be okay with this,” Janey said.

  A crooked grin grew on Spike’s face. He looked up at Danny and Tyrell. “Ain’t she the best? Don’t you fret one more minute, my friends. This dog is now in safe hands.”

  “Yes!” Danny said. “Yes, yes, yes! Thank you!”

  Spike stood, and Danny nearly shook his hand right off his arm.

  Janey hugged him.

  “One more thing, Spike,” Danny said. He looked out the window. The sun was low, but there was still a good amount of daylight left. “Can you take a ride with us? Unless you have other plans.”

  “Where to?”

  “Yeah,” Tyrell said. “Where?”

  Danny had thought about this ever since they’d left Meg’s place. If Spike said yes, he’d do it. “To see Mr. Brodie…the guy who wants Banjo shot.”

  Tyrell looked at Danny as if he was crazy. “What for?”

  “I’ve…I’ve got to get my dignity back, Tyrell.”

  Spike grinned. “Your wheels or mine, partner?”

  63

  Danny, riding with Spike, watched Tyrell following in the side-view mirror. He loved his brother. He was always there when Danny needed him. Danny hoped he’d never let Tyrell down when there was something he needed. Letting Dad down was about as much as he could ever take. He was done with lies and deception.

  The Brodie house was in the lowlands, not too far from the grassy rise where Billy Brodie had made the shot that sent Danny’s world spinning.

  Danny pointed to the hillside that led up to his own place. “We live just over there.”

  “Nice country out here.”

  Spike parked near Mr. Brodie’s truck. Tyrell pulled in behind him. Before they’d even opened their doors, Mr. Brodie stepped out onto the veranda.

  “That him?” Spike asked.

  “Yep.”

  Mr. Brodie studied them with his hands in the pockets of his coveralls.

  Banjo, who was sitting on Danny’s lap, stuck his head out the window.

  “He sees the dog,” Spike said.

  “I want him to.”

  Mr. Brodie stepped down off the porch.

  Spike raised his eyebrows. “This is going to be interesting.”

  They all got out.

  Danny set Banjo in the bed of Spike’s truck, where he whined at Mr. Brodie’s barking dogs, fenced off out of sight.

  The Brodie boys appeared from the barn.

  “See you found your dog,” Mr. Brodie said.

  Danny kept his eyes off Billy and Ben. He stood tall and faced Mr. Brodie. “Mr. Brodie…I’ve lied to you, and I’ve lied to my dad. After you came over and said my dog attacked your sheep, I told him I’d put Banjo down myself. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but he let me have it my way. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t.”

  Danny looked down at his hands, then leveled his gaze. “I tried to run Banjo off, far from here…so I could…keep him alive.”

  Danny had to look away, curbing his emotions. “It was wrong of me, sir. I know that now. But I still don’t believe my dog—”

  “I asked you once today how the pup was,” Mr. Brodie interrupted. “You never did tell me.”

  “What?”

  “The pup. How is she?”

  “She’s…fine. And smart. I’m…well, I’m getting her used to being around the steers right now.”

  Mr. Brodie nodded. “She’ll be running them around like a cuttin’ hor
se before you know it.”

  Danny’s confession was set off track, now. This wasn’t how he’d seen it in his mind. Mr. Brodie seemed…different.

  Spike’s gaze shifted. “That an old Honda you got over there?”

  They all turned and looked at the red motorcycle leaning against the barn.

  “Piece of junk,” Ben said.

  Billy snorted. “Barely good enough to sell for parts.”

  Mr. Brodie squinted at them. “Bike’s not yours to sell, now, is it?”

  Billy’s face reddened.

  Mr. Brodie turned back to Spike. “That old Honda broke down on me about six months back. She was good for about ten years. Now we use a four-wheeler to get around the place.”

  “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Key’s in it, but it don’t work.”

  Tyrell looked at Danny and shrugged.

  As they all walked over to the Honda, Tyrell introduced Mr. Brodie to Spike. “We work together at Les Schwab’s, in Sisters.”

  “That so,” Mr. Brodie said.

  Spike rolled the Honda away from the barn and kicked out its stand. He crouched low and examined it.

  Danny didn’t know if it was good or bad to have his confession put on hold so everybody could look at a broke-down motorbike.

  Spike poked around the engine. “You got a small screwdriver?”

  “In the house,” Mr. Brodie said. He nodded for Ben to run and get it.

  Danny frowned. This was crazy. Spike knew why they’d come here.

  Ben came back with the screwdriver. Spike took it and removed a small hose. He ran the hose between his fingers, then put it to his lips and blew on it. His cheeks puffed up and his face went red. A moment later a glob of gunk flew out the open end of the tubing.

  Spike spat and screwed the tubing back on the cycle. “Fuel line was clogged. Let’s see if she works now.”

  He kicked it over. On the fifth try, the Honda sputtered to life.

  “I’ll be danged,” Mr. Brodie said.

  Spike gunned the engine, two, three, four times. “Man, I love that sound, don’t you?” He smiled and took the Honda out and back on a short smoky spin. He shut it down and sat on it. “Good as new.”

  Mr. Brodie scratched the back of his neck. “I thank you for bringing her back to me, Spike.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Now,” Mr. Brodie said. “What was it y’all come to see me about, besides confessing?”

  Billy cracked up. Ben furrowed his brow, confused.

  Spike said, “Mr. Brodie, Danny would like you to give his dog another chance by letting me take him to California. My wife and I are moving, and we could give him a good home. Simple as that.”

  Mr. Brodie studied Spike, then Danny. “Why’nt you just take him? I’d of never known it. I thought the dog was gone, anyway.”

  Spike got off the bike and put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Because Danny’s a good kid, and he’s no liar. He wanted to square things up.”

  Danny tried as hard as he could to hold Mr. Brodie’s gaze.

  “What dog are we talking about, now?” Mr. Brodie asked.

  Spike looked back at Banjo. “That one. Over there in my truck.”

  “I don’t see no dog.”

  They all looked at Banjo, who was watching them.

  Spike said, “I could’ve sworn there was a dog in my truck.”

  “How about you, Danny?” Mr. Brodie said. “You see one?”

  “No, sir, I guess I don’t.”

  64

  When they got home, Tyrell turned off the engine but didn’t get out. “Star Wars,” he said, turning to Danny. “Rogue One. Remember that scene at the end. Darth Vader shows up out of nowhere and takes on a whole mess of rebel fighters after they steal the Death Star plans? Wham! Bam! Boom! Wipes them all out? Remember that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Tyrell sat back. “Man, he was scary. Remember when he went ballistic?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “So that’s what you’re stressing about, right? Going in to face Darth Vader?”

  “This is serious, Tyrell. He’s going to kill me!”

  “No…he’s not.”

  “Yes, he is! I lied to him. He trusted me, and I blew it. And I ruined his roping record at the rodeo.” Danny covered his face with his hands.

  “I’m as guilty as you are,” Tyrell said softly. “I backed you up on that lie.”

  Danny shook his head. “No, Tyrell. None of this is your—”

  “Yes, it is. Come on, let’s go in.”

  They got out and headed into the house.

  Dad was washing dishes, a cup of coffee on the windowsill above the sink.

  Danny took off his hat and set it on the kitchen table. He paused and glanced back at Tyrell, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

  Danny turned back. “Dad?”

  Dad turned off the water, dried his hands, and grabbed his coffee. “Have a seat,” he said, not looking at either of his sons.

  Danny eased into a chair at the table. Tyrell stayed where he was.

  Dad eyed Tyrell as he pulled out a chair but said nothing as he sat across from Danny. “You go see the dog?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  “With Spike, a guy who works with Tyrell.”

  Dad glanced over at Tyrell.

  “He’s taking him to California,” Tyrell said. “He and his wife are moving next week.”

  Danny’s heart thumped so hard he worried Dad could hear it.

  Dad turned back to Danny. “That’s a good solution. But you’ll have to square it with Harmon first. He deserves to know. You fooled him just like you fooled me. You need to apologize.”

  “I just did. That’s where me and Tyrell just came from.”

  “Tyrell and I, not me and Tyrell.”

  “Tyrell and I.”

  “What’d he have to say about it?”

  “He thought it was a good idea.”

  Dad’s piercing gaze unnerved Danny. He had to look away. Why doesn’t he just yell at me, tell me how disappointed he is, and how lying is a coward’s way out, and how he didn’t raise me to be of such low character, and why did I do it!

  But Dad said nothing.

  Danny couldn’t stand it. “Dad, I’ll never lie to you again. I promise you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so bad about anything as I have about that. Once you start lying it’s too hard to stop. It’s crazy. I know I lost your trust. I know I ruined your roping record. I know it and I’m sorry. I’m really…sorry.”

  Silence.

  “Dad?”

  “You think that’s what this is about? My roping record?”

  “Well…partly.”

  Dad stared at him. “My record is nothing, Danny. It’s not important at all. What is important is that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me you couldn’t shoot your dog. I let you go out there because that was your decision. I didn’t think you could do it. I was surprised when you told me you did. I was surprised that Tyrell didn’t stop you.” He turned to Tyrell. “I was also surprised that he played along with your scheme, which is even more…”

  He didn’t go on, just turned away and shook his head.

  “Why’d you let me go, then?” Danny said. “If you knew I wouldn’t do it, why’d you say I could?” Danny didn’t understand his own feelings right now, almost angry, angry at Dad.

  Dad reached over and put his hand on Danny’s. “If I made your tough decisions for you, Danny, I’d be doing you a disservice. So I let you take that one on yourself.” He looked into Danny’s eyes a moment, then took his hand away.

  Danny thought about all the decisions he’d made since Billy Brodie shot B
anjo. Not all of them were good, but some were. He’d worked it out, maybe not in the best way, but he’d worked it out.

  “My decisions were pretty stupid,” he said, looking at the table. “I guess I failed that class.”

  Dad studied Danny a moment, then said, “You never fail, Danny. You win…or you learn.”

  He’d learned, all right. Oh, he had learned. “Yes, sir.”

  Dad turned to Tyrell.

  Tyrell ducked his head, looking as guilty as Danny felt. “I’m sorry, too, Dad. Maybe I could have done it different. I don’t know. It was a hard thing to figure out. I didn’t want Banjo to die, either. I…I had to help Danny.”

  Dad got up and dumped his coffee in the sink. “You boys disappointed me, sure. But you owned up to it. You squared it with Harmon, and you squared it with me. In fact, you saved Banjo.” He turned to Danny and half smiled. “To tell the truth, I’m proud of you, son.”

  Proud?

  Dad put his hands on Danny’s shoulders. “Hungry?”

  “Always.”

  Dad looked over at Tyrell and winked. “Let’s us men go on over to Bend and have us a good dinner, what do you say?”

  Danny pushed his chair out and stood. “Dad, I need you to know that I’m truly sorry for…for what I did.”

  Dad picked up Danny’s hat and handed it to him. “I know you are. Now, let’s go. I’m starving.”

  65

  ONE WEEK LATER

  The following weekend, Tyrell gave Danny a ride to Meg’s place.

  He glanced over at Danny. “Nervous?”

  “No.”

  “She’s a hot wire.”

  Danny ignored him.

  “I can’t believe it. Little brother’s first girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “What are you two gonna do?”

  Danny shrugged. “Got any ideas?”

  “Well—”

  “I’m kidding!”

  The radio blasted country music. Ruby stood in his lap, sniffing the crisp air flowing into the cab. Two fly rods rattled in the truck bed.

  Tyrell grinned. “Dad’s going to love this.”

  Danny turned and raised a fist.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll keep my mouth shut. But he’s going to find out anyway, and rub it in worse than me. You know that, don’t you?”