This was proving to be a long trip...
The ride back to San Saba was mostly a quiet one. Cosmo was yawning hugely and my stomach growled loudly enough to cause Sam to turn around to check for the source of the noise. Sam phoned ahead to the airstrip and let the pilot know he could stand down for the night, then he had Cosmo drive us to the town's one motel. We took three rooms, and I was resigning myself to no dinner when Sam knocked on my door. He and Cosmo were going to go get something to eat and have a beer, and I was welcome to come along if I wanted.
Cosmo drove us to a local barbeque joint the desk clerk had recommended. It's major selling point appeared to be that the cook marinated the meat in beer before cooking, but I couldn't understand where they were getting the beer for the marinade since they were pouring the stuff by the keg. Sam tried to eat, but had no appetite, and Cosmo was propping his eyes open with toothpicks. I thought it was a shame Biggs wasn't there, as two perfectly good meals were going to waste. When I noticed Billy and Tommy on the opposite side of the room, ensconced in the center of a rowdy crowd, pounding down the longnecks and making a hell of a noise, I asked for a doggy bag. Sam's mood was black enough without seeing that.
Back at the motel the air conditioner in my room appeared to be on the way out. It was putting out tepid, vaguely fishy smelling air and groaning pitifully. After about an hour, I found I was too wide awake and hot to sleep. I decided a walk might tire me out, so I got dressed, slipped my key in my pocket and stepped out into the warm darkness.
Soon I was past the built-up area and walking along the shoulder of the road beside a green field bordered with trees. I set off across the field. Groundfog was gathering, thanks to the high humidity. I stopped dead halfway across the field. I was more wiped than I'd thought. I could see a ghostly figure, leading a tired looking horse, approaching me. Since the age of 14 I've had a fear of being outside after dark, and this did nothing to change my mind. I was paralyzed, unable to even challenge the man coming toward me.
Call: Ma'am? Ed: Who's there? Call: Ma'am, you shouldn't oughta be out this time o'night. Where you s'posed t'be, I'll walk you back. Ed: Who are you? Call: Where's my manners? Woodrow Call, Ma'am. I was stunned. This was probably the most complete hallucination I'd ever had in my life, and there was nobody who'd believe me. White hair, white beard, piercing dark eyes, legs that went on forever... Ed: Lord! Call: You all right, Ma'am? Ed: Just fine, I think, Captain. It is Captain? Call: Yes, Ma'am. D'I know you? Ed: No, sir, you don't. I...I've read of you. Call: You have? I'm right pleased to know it. My eyes strayed to the horse. It carried a blanket-wrapped bundle behind the saddle. Call noticed what I was looking at. Call: My friend, Gus. I'm bringin' him home. He in that book you read? Ed: Yes, he is. So is Newt. Your son. Call: Aw, now don't you start. Takes more than what I done to be a boy's daddy. I don't reckon I oughta be called one. Ed: You seem more open to the idea than you were in my book. Have you always felt like you weren't Newt's daddy? Call: Pretty much so. Boy's mama was a mistake I made once, boy came from that. Didn't want to admit the mistake then, still don't. Boy's no slouch for all that. His mama did right by him, whatever else she mighta been. Ed: Do you think of Newt as your son now? Call: He put you up to this? Ed: No. I'm just curious. Call: Yes and no. And I ain't a man who can't decide what I think. Boy wants me to claim him, and I can't make m'self do that. T'other hand, if I had t'have a boy, I'd want him t'be like Newt. Seems like I oughta just give the boy what he wants, then I'd get what I want, don't it? Ed: It sure does, Captain. What's stopping you? Call: Pride. Stubborn as a mule, Gus always said. Wanna do it, if I do it, on my own time. Here, you're gonna catch your death! You sleep in that get-up? He was talking about my shorts, and the infamous pool skimmer I'd worn to New Orleans. Ed: No, I got dressed before I came out. Why? Call: You call that dressed? I ain't never seen no fancy woman outside a whorehouse wearin' less and callin' it dressed. You sure you ain't a fancy woman? Ed: Morally sure, Captain. Call: Can't prove it by me. Ed: Then I won't try. It's hot and humid and I hate both. Could I keep walking with you? Call: Never gone walkin' in the moonlight with a woman showin' her legs and bosoms. Ed: You're not talking to my legs or bosoms, Captain. You're talking to me. Call: What's the difference? Ed: I'll consider the source. To answer your question, plenty! Call: Settle down, Ma'am. I didn't mean t'rile you none, I just... Ed: I know. I get too upset for my own good sometimes. Call: Well, then, if you're the respectable lady you say you are, let's get you inside. Call offered me his elbow. I slipped my hand in it. I probably would have looked like a nutcase, with my hand hanging in midair and chattering away to nobody, to anyone who saw mw. But it satisfied Call's notions of propriety. Behind us, his horse whinnied and pawed the ground. We turned back in the direction of the motel. At some point along the way, Call handed me his bandana to use to wipe my forehead, as my forearm was proving to be singularly useless and I was sweating like a horse. Call: This it? Ed: Home sweet home. For tonight, anyway. Call: You get on in there, then. Y'don't know what-all might be out here at night. Ed: Thank you for walking me back, Captain. Call: My pleasure, Ma'am. Go on in, now. I unlocked and opened the door, turning to get a final glimpse of my ghostly escort. But he and the horse were gone. And as I closed the door and prepared to try and sleep, I wondered if I hadn't imagined the whole thing. I finally dropped off convinced that I had. That lasted exactly as long as it took me to find the bandana, crumpled beneath me on the mattress. This was too weird...
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