The Escape of Bobby Ray Hammer, A Novel of a '50s Family

  So now we're all in a pack walking toward the house with half of them lighting up a fresh cigarette and I'm in the lead, knowing that I've never been in charge of anything before. Then I hear a car, so I look back. Sure enough, the other two cars just showed up. Damn! They found us. Well, it's too late to do anything about them now so I just go on, hearing the car doors slam and the pitter-patter of running feet coming up fast behind us.

  "Wayne," I say catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. "Come up here."

  "What you want?" he asks sounding real suspicious.

  "Got a job for you." Charles wanted somebody special. Well, Wayne is special to me.

  "Oh no you don't. You're not cutting me out of this."

  "Course not. You go first," I say. "But you've got to help me with Mary."

  "What?"

  "The girl. I need some help with her."

  "Sure. But why me?" he asks, stammering through his words. "Why not Leroy or Thomas?"

  "Leroy? With a woman? Get serious, Wayne. Just stay close and I'll tell you what to do."

  "Bobby?" And I don't know that Wayne has ever called me by my first name.

  "What's your problem? I told you that you get to be first."

  "Leroy said..." And then I realize what his problem is. Leroy has told him that this is a joke, that there really isn't a girl. Leroy just can't keep his word.

  "The girl is real, Wayne. Trust me on this one."

  Keith is walking on the other side of me. "I sure do appreciate this, Bobby," he says.

  "You can tell me how much when it's over," I say.

  I tell them before they go inside to be sure and wipe their feet because Mary is real neat and doesn't want anyone messing up her floor. I look back out the corner of my eye and see Eugene lagging behind and staggering a little. I'm still worried about Herman and Gordy being inside. They're old men, but I guess they can't be any worse than Charles. It's so dark on the front side of the house that I'm a little scared too. I tell them to put out their cigarettes because she doesn't allow smoking. When I go to knock on the door, my hands are shaking. Then I turn back toward them and whisper real loud, "One last thing. She's got an old man, her father, that lives in the spare bedroom. But don't worry about him."

  "Oh, shit," says Thomas. "Oh shit no." He sounds real downhearted and has quit whispering.

  "What are you concerned about, Thomas?" asks Melvin. "Don't you have to fight for a piece of ass from Brenda?"

  "When I bark, she fucks alright, but it's not in front of her old man."

  That is the last straw. Someday Thomas will pay for saying that about Brenda.

  "Don't worry the old man," I say. "He's an invalid. Stays drunk all the time. Don't be loud and he won't wake up. It'll be alright."

  After I knock, nothing happens. I wait a minute wondering where Charles is, then knock again. Still nothing. Then I remember. I'm not supposed to knock now. "Nobody home," someone says from the back of the pack, and then gives a little nervous laugh. I open the door.

  The living room looks like I just stepped into a different house. There's a sofa and two easy chairs that weren't here ten minutes ago. Must be ten candles burning in a thing that looks like silver deer antlers sitting on a coffee table beside a big fluffy teddy bear. I've slowed so much guys are starting to push past me. I walk across the creaking floor to the hall.

  "Wayne? Where are you?" I whisper.

  He comes out of the crowd, pale like he has a bad case of the flu.

  "You go first," I say.

  He's looking up at me, eyes real watery in that candlelight like I just gave him a death sentence.

  "She's in there alone. Just be nice and she'll do anything you want. She'll even pull your pants off for you. She likes to do that."

  He takes a deep breath, but he hasn't gone anywhere yet. "The girl is real," he says to himself.

  "The first one is always special to her. So you have to stay with her and introduce all the other guys. You got that?"

  "How about you? Don't you want to be first?"

  "I've already had my turn."

  "So I'm not really first."

  "She's not a virgin, Wayne."

  "Ya, but you could stay with her instead of me."

  "I've got to pick the guys. The order is important. Besides, you don't want all these other guy's juices inside her when it comes your turn. Do you? Right now it's just mine."

  I just hear a squeak from him.

  "Don't worry, Wayne. She'll help you get it hard."

  Just as he's about to try the doorknob, I say, "Don't worry about the clap. She's clean."

  So Wayne is inside and I'm standing at the bedroom door trying to hear what's happening. Wayne is about as subtle as a spit in the face. The guys are making themselves to home. Leroy has tried to bum a cigarette off of two kids already. Thomas is telling Leroy and Eugene a dirty joke about a farmer's daughter that had three tits, and Keith is looking for the bathroom.

  "Don't sit on the arm of the sofa, Melvin" I say. "She doesn't like that."

  "Well, what the hell does she like?" he asks.

  I hear the bed squeaking through the door and the sounds of hard breathing. Then a loud "Ouch." It wasn't a girls voice either. "Don't do that," says Wayne. Then silence.

  And now Leroy comes to me. "Is there a real girl in there?" He has the teddy bear in his arms.

  "Sure is."

  "Why didn't you tell me it was going to be this way?"

  "Why did you tell Wayne? And how about you asking Bev out?"

  "So it's come down to this, has it?"

  "To tell you the truth, I didn't know it till I got here either."

  "You're a goddamn liar, Bobby Hammer." And Leroy shoves me up against the wall. "You and Charles are messing with my head."

  And then there's a shout from the bedroom. It's Wayne again. 

  And now shouting from the girl. "You pencil peckered little shit!"

  "Goddamn you bitch!" says Wayne. "My face, my face. I'm marked for life." Sounds like Wayne is working his magic on Grace.

  Then the spare bedroom door bursts open. Herman has turned into a wild man. I've never heard a voice boom so loud. "Get out of my house, you worthless assholes!"

  "Run for it everybody!" I shout. But I push open the bedroom door to see how the girl is making it. Charles' pogo stick he had the other night is still standing in the corner. Grace looks up over Wayne's shoulder just as the first blast from a shotgun goes off behind me and she lets out a blood clabbering scream. Herman puts the next blast through the ceiling, plaster, sheetrock and shit going everywhere. Leroy screams and falls against the far wall, then hits the floor with a thud and the teddy bear fall on top of him.

  I hear Charles shooting out the windows in the spare bedroom.

  Wayne, I can't help but feel sorry for him, his red ass just went crashing through a closed window. He didn't have anything on below the waist.

  It's time for me to get out of here too. "Oh, god no!" I scream, and turn to run, and when I do I'm so scared it's just like this is real and I'm afraid one of them will shoot me in the back. I break through the logjam at the door. Charles is shooting the living room windows out now. The world has turned to glass.

  It takes a second for the ones still outside to turn and run. They still don't believe this is happening, and I'm running through the pack, bumping into kids, push a couple down, when another blast goes off. "Oh, god, I'm hit," I shout and feel my knees hit the soft earth. Every time that girl screams, I scream.

  Someone stops to help me, I don't know for sure but I think it's Thomas, then a blast goes off and he splits, looking back like he sure would like to stop but just can't bring himself to do it. I'm rolling on the ground now. Someone else is screaming in pain a ways in front of me, then I hear Charles.

  "Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em! Get 'em all."

  And shotgun blast sound like machine guns, and I hear that 30.06 doing full duty. Some kids stop and come back to help others for a second and
then another blast goes off and maybe they'll drop too or leave their friends and run for their lives. Kids falling all over and begging for help. Not many still standing.

  I start crying and screaming. "I'm dying. I'm dying." I think I'm faking but real tears come from my eyes. The sound of my own voice scares me. Maybe these kids are really being killed, maybe I'm really hit. I know I'm wet but I thought it was just water off the ground. I look up just in time to see Thomas go over that shoulder high barbed wire fence without breaking stride. I hear kids crying in the distance, shouts in the orchard muffled by the heavy fog. Cusses. Groans. Another scream. Silence.

  At the far side of the house, I hear a motorcycle. Then another. Doors slam. I roll over and sit up because they sound close. A car starts. The girl screams again. I'm blinded by a headlight which lunges toward me and I'm afraid I'm going to get run over so I hit the ground again, lay flat. They roar by, and boom! I am hit. A motor cycle ran straight across my leg. I know I'm hurt this time and probably real bad. They roar on, looking as big as buffalo, digging in and slinging gravel and after they go by I have trash all over my clothes. I drag myself out of the way of the car that comes on the heels of the motorcycles. As it goes past, I see Charles making the front end of his cycle rear up, the headlight shining up into the fog like a searchlight, that back wheel still digging dirt, and with the shotgun in one hand, he fires both barrels into the sky.

  *

  "Goddamn you, Bobby. You are a wise ass. You know that? You are a conniving, self-righteous little shit." That's what Charles thinks of me for siccing Wayne on Grace. Charles found me later that evening at the pool hall. He wasn't too pleased. But everything turned out okay after the fog cleared. My leg wasn't hurt as bad as I thought. Wayne only had to have a few stitches on one thigh where he got cut going through the window. He did the real damage when he ran full steam into the barbed wire fence. The girl's scratch marks on his face cost him a little pride, but then he had a lot so he could spare a little. He wants to be around me all the time now. Two weeks later he had to tell me all about what was running out the end of his pecker and his penicillin shots. Said the nurse forgot to tell him not to stand up right away, so he fell over but he didn't pass out. Says my bills are still come in, wants to get the full tally before he comes to collect. One kid had to have some buckshot removed from his butt, but his father thought he deserved it. I have a new reputation with the mothers of Chowchilla. Mama doesn't know about it yet, praise the Lord, at least if she does, she's not talking. Papa has been more agreeable than usual.

  Mary is doing better too, says Charles. And just the other day I saw Amazing Grace crossing Robertson Boulevard on the arm of Brother Hensen.

  CHAPTER 22: Another Fight, Sort of

  I'm sitting in my algebra class. Got a teacher that's tall with hair that's blond. He wears plaid shirts and has glasses because his eyes cross real bad. He's writing this equation on the board about "y = mx + b" or something like that. After he puts the "x" down, he just quits talking like he can't remember anymore or maybe he forgot what he's doing. Some kids keep telling him what the rest of the equation is, but he walks back and sits on the edge of his desk facing us like he's through. His eyes are glassy and he hums to himself real low-like. "Beautiful Dreamer" is the name of the song. Then he lets a fart that starts low and turns into a real zinger. It turns real quiet and I feel like running.

  Cute little Becky Wynsum leaves the room for a minute and comes back with Clyde Sonnett. I would have gone myself, but my left leg is still sore. We sit here looking up, like we're studying until our teacher gets up like he just remember something important, goes to the board and puts the "+ b" on the end of the equation. He smiles like it's the smartest thing he's ever done.

  Wayne's sitting in the next desk over. He turns to Eugene who sits right behind him. "That's a perfect Bobbyism," he tells Eugene. "When the chips are down, his brain turns to beans and just farts. Otherwise, when Thomas took Brenda away from him, he'd have done something about it."

  I wish I could shut Wayne up. I'm going to do something about Thomas but wan't to do it in my own time.

  Other kids claim they have strange teachers too. But this teacher is something special. It's like his mind got a kink in it. I could almost hear it pop. I know he's a nice guy, and sometimes I think he knows algebra real well, but now I can't concentrate because his mind might pop any second. He's kinda like Papa. I don't know what he might do. Mr. Wood's physics class is different. The man is a genius. Thomas is in there with me and he's struggling too. Mr. Wood called me aside one day after class. Said he thought my algebra was a little weak. Liked to scared me to death. I thought he was going to kick me out. I told him that I was taking the first semester of algebra and that I was studying real hard. But he said I needed something specific, and that he could teach me enough algebra in five minutes to get me through physics. And he did. Right then. And showed me how to work a physics problem with it. The thing is, I understood everything he said. I'm even doing better in algebra now. I've never felt smart before. I even feel a little guilty about how smart I felt. Right then, I felt like I could learn anything in the world, so I went to the library and got the biggest book I could find on bridges. There's enough equations in that book to solve all the world's problems.

  *

  The Powers' have this little ranch out in Dixieland. They don't live there, but that's where they keep a small herd of cattle. Since I'm on my way to Madera for Papa, I think I'll stop by and see if Thomas might be out there, see what that asshole is up to, not knowing quite what I have in mind. On the way, I'm thinking about Brenda and getting madder and madder, thinking about what Thomas said Brenda does when he barks.

  A strange thing has happened too. Brenda called me the other night. It was late and I was about to go to bed. Everybody else was already asleep when the phone rang. I was afraid it'd wake Papa. I know how he doesn't sleep too good. I thought Brenda was going to chew on me some more about taking Keith to see Mary.

  "I talked to Helen a few days ago," Brenda said, then stopped because her voice was shaking. "I asked her why she slapped Charles at Lenny's funeral. She didn't answer, Bobby. She just cried. Then she asked about you. Asked how you are. She remembers you. She didn't know that Charles is back in town either. But she wouldn't answer the question."

  "Oh," I said. "Well, thanks for asking anyway. I appreciate it."

  "You're welcome, Bobby," Brenda said. "Sorry it took so long. Sorry I couldn't get an answer for you."

  "That's okay."

  "But Helen wanted to make sure I asked if you knew anything about Lenny's journal. She would like to see it."

  "I don't know anything about Lenny having a journal." What does she mean, I wonder? Does she mean like a journal bearing that goes on an axle?

  "Okay. She was afraid you wouldn't know."

  And then the line got quiet but she didn't hang up.

  "Bobby?" she said finally.

  "Yes."

  "I've made a mistake."

  "What about?" I ask.

  "I just can't bring myself to talk about it yet."

  "Okay."

  "Good-bye," she said right quick and hung up. I swear, she was crying.

  I'm still worrying about this when I pull into Thomas' place. I see Thomas out by the corrals dumping feed for their cows. I'd recognize him from a hundred miles with that big brimmed hat and cowboy boots he works in. So I pull over, jump out and head toward him pulling off my coat. He comes for me, smiling, acting like he's glad to see me.

  "Hey Bobby, what you doing out in this neck of the woods?" he wants to know. I don't say anything, so he puts a real puzzled look on his face. When he gets close enough, I drop my coat and take a swing at him, hit him on the lip but he flinches, blocks part of it, backs up.

  "What the hell are you doing, Bobby?" he says, throwing his hat off to the side. Guess he doesn't want me to mess up his hat. "What the hell's wrong with you?" he wants to know when I keep coming at him. "You g
one crazy?"

  I figure I don't need to give him an explanation. He's just trying to make a fool out of me, so I keep coming and he's damn near running backwards to keep away from me. I can see that he's bleeding a little out of the corner of his mouth and think that a couple more shots is probably all he can take.

  "Come on, Bobby. You keep coming, I'm going to have to take you apart. I don't want to hurt you because you're my friend."

  "We're sure as hell are not friends. Come on. Just come on. Try to take me apart, if you think you can."

  "A little fellow like you, Bobby? I'm out of your league. You trying to make a name for yourself? Come on. Tell me what the hell's the problem. We're friends, Bobby. We played football together. Still would be playing together if Sonnett hadn't found out you kicked Melvin's ass. I'm not saying you're not tough. God knows I've been tackled by you enough times to know how hard you can hit."

  I know he's not the smartest kid to ever pass through CUHS, so I guess maybe he needs telling. "It's what you're saying about Brenda."

  "What?" And then he laughs that little laugh of his that says he's better than me. And he relaxes like, well if that's all that it is. And so, while he is not ready, I hit him again. This time I catch him good on the top of the head, up there where his flattop is real flat and it hurts my knuckles.

  "Ow! Damn you!" And he clenches his teeth and puckers his mouth and he's after me now but I'm quicker than he is. I step inside with his wild left going over my head, and I remember that rabbit I gut shot when I was out with Charles so I hit him just below his breast bone, and damn if it doesn't work and he's out of breath right now, and I can take him if I want him. But seeing him like that, him usually acting like a big shot and now being so pitiful, I don't want to mess him up too bad so I back off. Somehow, knowing I can take him is scary.