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Beth came out of the office at the end of the Bail Jumper's first set, looking considerably calmer. I had noticed that, for a good portion of the time, the office door had been locked. While I had a key...I figured there might be a reason why the lock was engaged. Beth quietly joined me behind the bar, and we had to work like mad to keep up with business.
Beth: After this, you're on your own for a while. Sam and I are taking the rest of the year off. Deb: You're exaggerating. Beth: Nope. He's got a month's vacation or more. We're goin' to the cabin for Thanksgiving and not coming back until after New Year's. Deb: Babes in the woods. Beth: Don't bet on it. Deb: We'll see. I watched her covertly for a few minutes, noting the soft look in her eye and the little grin playing around the corners of her mouth. Sam doubtless had laid some pretty smooth moves on her, but it was time. They had been through some serious hell recently and they needed time to wind down together. I was almost envious, but Billy in the woods was nearly as ludicrous an idea as Billy in a suit and tie. Neville: Did you and Elmore switch places? Beth: Cole's here, John. Neville: That explains it. Six Budweisers, ladies. Elmore's having a rough time keeping up. Deb: Comin' up, John. Quint found us as soon as John Neville disappeared with his load of Bud. I moved away, let Beth deal with him while I coped with an excessively witchy Clay Shaw. He was mad that he couldn't get any service. It was appalling. Charlie Company was next, like children in the school lunch line, each one looking for a beer and a shot. Beth amused herself with them, leaving me to tend to Hank Marshall. Deb: Hi, Hank. What can I get for you? Hank: Scotch and water, and a MaiTai for Carly. A MaiTai. Christ on a pony, a MaiTai. I busied myself with the drinks and made some conversation at the same time. Deb: Haven't seen you in the last couple of days, Hank. What've you been up to? Hank: We've been doing some sightseeing, some shopping...would you make that Scotch a double, please? Deb: Right away. You know, you don't look at all comfortable tonight. How any man could look comfortable after spending twenty-odd years riding herd on that jumped-up... Hank: I would really have preferred not bringing Carly tonight. Things will be getting rough later. She could be hurt. I set the MaiTai on the bar with an unnecessarily hard thump. Deb: You think so? Hank: That's the impression I've got from being here. I glanced around for Billy but didn't see him. My attention went back to Hank. Deb: Well, if it gets nasty...bring her on over here. Fists start flying, Beth and I will be making ourselves scarce. We can take her with us. And stuff her in a closet someplace. Hank: I'd appreciate that. Deb: You know it's not a problem, Hank. Speak of the devil...Carly appeared beside her 'Daddy', scowling at me. Carly: Sugar, where's my drink? Hank: Right here, honey. Come on, let's go sit down now... His voice was gentle as he handed her the drink I had made. Hank knew that I could barely stand his wife. He swiftly moved to take her back to their small booth. I snarled and glared at her back. Beth smacked me in the arm. Next we served a contingent of the drugstore cowboys, and Beth and I exchanged glances. There were more of them than we had thought at first but there was no way to warn Billy. Neither one of us had courage enough to leave the safety we'd found behind the bar and go find him. Beth did slip into the back office to tell Sam, however, and while she was gone I told Elmore. Elmore: I know, Ma. I told Bill already. Deb: Will there be fighting, Elmore? Elmore: Dunno, Ma. Prob'ly. Hope so. Got me some varmint ass t'kick. Deb: You be careful, boy. Elmore: Ain't no fun bein' careful, Ma. Don' worry 'bout me. Elmore flashed me that Sunny Jim grin of his and moved back into the crowd. Beth returned with reports of Sam's reaction to the news. Beth: How many, he asked, and he got on the phone. Deb: Expecting trouble. Beth: Lots of it. Deb: They'll tear the place apart. Beth: That's why you have insurance. Deb: That's why the premiums are outrageous. Shit. When I next looked up, there was a positive vision standing at the bar. Tired suit, tired eyes...Eddie Mallard, my guardian angel. I didn't bother to go to the pass-through, I went straight over the top of the bar. I slipped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Eddie: What's this? He seemed a little embarrassed, but shyly pleased all the same. I let my arms drop to his waist and hugged him there, too. Deb: I haven't seen you, Eddie, and I never got a chance to thank you for everything you did for me...that night. I would be really messed up if it weren't for you. I noticed Angelo standing to one side, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Bully rolled up and clapped Eddie on the back. Bully: Where you been, boy? Eddie: Workin'. Figured I deserved a night out. What's your excuse? Bully: Shit, boy, Bill oughta have you drinkin' on the house tonight. You saved the girl's sanity. Eddie: Had some help. Wasn't me who called Bill. Bully: No, but it was you who kept talkin' to 'er until Bill could get here. Lemme buy you a beer, boy. Bully reached over the bar and took two Lone Stars, twisted the caps off with calloused hands, and handed one to Eddie. By this time, Coley and Quint and Tom Boyette had come over to see what all the commotion was. A good thing, too. I left Eddie's side and moved through the big bodies to Angelo. I owed the little pretty boy for the one narrow escape I'd managed to make. Deb: Heard you're on the right side now, Angelo. Flipped a couple of people. Angelo: I've gone State's Evidence, yes. Deb: Maybe this isn't such a good place to be, then, so exposed...Cosmo and Cole are both here. Angelo didn't seem so concerned about Cosmo, but at mention of Cole an entirely different look came across his face. Our Formula driver was terrified of George Cole. That made three of us. At that point, Billy shouldered his way to the center of the group. He shook Eddie's hand energetically, pounding him on the shoulder with the other hand. Billy: Gotta thank ya, Mallard. Y'gave me m'girl back. Eddie: Now you've really got me confused. Billy: Clingy, drinkin' like a damn fish...she's back to her old smartass self now. Lookit 'er. I steadied myself against Angelo and planted a foot on Billy's backside. Billy: See what I mean? Hope you didn't try to pay for that cucaracha piss, son? Eddie: Didn't even ask for it. Thanks, Bill...can't see that I did anything more than anybody should have. Billy: You did, boy. Trust me. Perino...need to thank you, too. Have a beer. I stepped away from Angelo and slipped up against Billy's side. He hugged me against him absently and my still tender ribs protested alarmingly. I didn't care. I was in the safest place on my earth, and a little pain was a small price to pay for it. Billy grabbed a bottle of something for Angelo, knocked the cap off, and handed it to the younger man. Coley: Ma! Got any a-them steak sandwiches left? Deb: You just had one an hour ago. Coley: I'm a growin' boy, Ma. Deb: Yeah, yeah. Let me check. Where are you puttin' it all? Coley: Down m'leg. Where else? Coley had grabbed my attention, so I didn't see the entire mob move toward the office door, covering Angelo until they could get him out of sight. Back in the kitchen, as I constructed yet another sandwich for Coley Blake, otherwise known as the Bottomless Pit, I noticed Beth blotting ineffectually at Billy McCain's t-shirt with a bar towel. Deb: What happened? Beth: I dumped beer all over him. Can you go get one of the polos? Deb: Sure...Billy, gimme your shirt, I'll go throw in a load of towels and this can go with it. McCain: Thanks, Ma. 'Sokay, Beth. It'll wash up. Deb: Coley, come and get this thing, you're not crippled. Toss it over... I caught the dripping shirt. In a fog, Beth wetted a fresh towel so the boy could wipe the beer off his chest. Coley'd seen what was going on and he brought in a dry towel, handed it to Billy McCain as he passed by on his way to the sandwich. I trotted off, to the back room behind the executive washroom, where we had installed the washer and dryer. Sam had a phone screwed into his ear and was busy on my computer. Tommy Lee was lounging comfortably on the sagging couch, playing catch up with Angelo and Eddie. They had found some of my John Hiatt and had put it on the computer to play through the speakers. It was a vast improvement over the Bail Jumpers, to my mind. I decided not to interrupt the pow-wow, moved as best I could through the long legs extended in every direction, and took up station behind the bar again. Billy: Where's the Shrimp? Deb: Kitchen, helping Billy McCain into a dry shirt. Billy: Cole's on the prowl. Think we'll put Elmore back behind the bar and you two git to the office an' stay there. Deb: We're not safe enough back here? Billy: What th' hell d'you think? He planted a fingertip in the center of my nose. Billy: No shit from you. Get Beth and get gone. Don't even try to go out the back door. Stay with Gerard. The fingertip encouraged my nod, but I wouldn't have needed it. When Billy referred to Sam as Gerard rather than Dawg, there was no question but that he foresaw serious trouble. Deb: I can stay at least until Elmore... Billy caught the back of my head in a big hand, pulled me toward him and kissed my forehead. Billy: Now. Go. I'll tell the Pipsqueak when she comes out. I turned toward the office door. I was afraid to leave the till unattended, but I saw Elmore duck under the pass-through, toss the beer tray into a corner and grab the rag I'd left to finish wiping down the bar top. He tipped me a wink and made shoo-ing motions at me. I slipped into the office. Deb: Oh, God! I can't sit in here! Augh! The cigar smoke hung in a blue haze from just below the ceiling to right over the heads of the men. I was reminded of what far away grassfires often did to the atmosphere. TLJ: Don't like cigars, darlin'? Deb: Putting it mildly. Gerard, what'd I tell you? I have to work back here and I'll be damned if you'll be stinkin' the place up. Tommy Lee leaned back against the couch and emitted a steady stream of fragrant smoke, looked at me and popped off one of the most guileless grins I had ever seen on him. It beat the sly little smirk he'd worn in Cobb by a country mile. Deb: Shit...and Billy told me to sit in here...damn... The door opened behind me and Beth stuck her head in. Beth: Maybe I oughta call the fire department... Deb: Do they come put out fires in poop? Damn, what a stink! Beth: Sorry, Bill, but there are limits. Deb: Maybe we'll be okay out back. This is... Beth: Impossible? Deb: Intolerable was more what I was thinking. I ducked out and we crashed the door shut behind us. We went back through the kitchen and headed for the back door. Beth stopped to get a bottled water out of the big fridge but I needed to get outside, to get some air. I went on ahead. Cole: Thought I might find ya back here, Flash. I stopped in my tracks. This was a nightmare...and I had walked right into it. Cole stepped out of the shadows toward me. I opened my mouth to call out, for Beth, for Billy...but not a sound escaped me. And then I was caught. TO BE CONTINUED...
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