"Did you call an ambulance?" somebody was saying. Lem wadded up the end of my sweat shirt and pressed it over the bullet hole.
"No. Somebody go ahead and call. Texas, will you quit bleeding?"
"That hurts," I said weakly. "Hey, Lem, I want a Coke."
"Okay, just a minute. We'll get you a Coke in a minute."
I could already hear an ambulance siren. That was quick. All I could see around me was a sea of feet and legs.
"Where's Mason?" Whenever I was scared, Mason was there.
"He'll be here pretty soon. I'm going to call him, I swear."
Somebody else was shouting, "Get back, everybody back up," and someone else was putting a coat on me. I was still cold. I felt like I was laying in a cold damp cave.
"My feet are cold."
"Yeah, well you got holes in your boots."
I stared at Lem, puzzled. He wasn't making any sense.
"You better leave," I said, making an effort to think straight. "You're gonna get in trouble."
"Naw, it's cool." He dropped his voice. "Just tell them it was about a money loan, okay?"
"What was?"
"The fight."
"Okay."
My foot was going to sleep, I was laying on it funny.
"Did you call Mason yet?"
"I will, I promise."
He was getting blurrier and blurrier and I couldn't see him too good anymore.
"Tell Mason..." I couldn't remember what I wanted to tell Mason.
"I'll tell him. Just hang on, willya, Tex? Don't die on me, kid. Hang on."
He sounded like he was crying, but he was so far away I couldn't tell. I wished I could see Jamie. I'd give anything to see Jamie.
What was going on? This morning had been pretty normal. I wanted to ask Lem what happened, but I don't know if he heard me. I don't know if I said the words.
11
"Mace," I said weakly, "would you get that rock off of me?"
I tried pushing it off myself, but I couldn't seem to move my arm.
"It's not a rock, it's a bandage. And don't move around, your tubes'll come loose."
I tried to focus my eyes. It seemed like I was surrounded by dangling bottles and ropes of tubes. I could barely see Mason. He looked strange.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked. I couldn't remember what had happened.
"No. Not at you. You didn't shoot yourself, did you?"
Oh, yeah. Somebody shot me ... slowly Mason's face came into focus. He looked strange, there was something wrong ... oh, yeah, it was a Band-Aid.
"Did somebody shoot you, too?" I whispered. It seemed like he laughed or something before he said, "No. I beat the crap outta Lem Peters--but he didn't exactly stand still and let me. Go back to sleep, Texas. They won't let me stay with you if you keep talking. You're supposed to rest."
Why would he beat the crap out of Lem? "Did he get your samples switched?" I mumbled. How did anybody expect me to sleep with this big rock on my side? It hurt like hell.
"When can I see Jamie?" I asked.
"Later."
I wanted to ask when later was, but the bed seemed to tilt and slide me right off into darkness...
I was miserable when I woke up next. I was tired and I hurt and I remembered what had happened. I wished I had gone ahead and died. The nurse told me I couldn't have any company except immediate family--I wasn't real sure at that point exactly who that was, but it probably wasn't Jamie.
Then they let a cop in to question me.
I did what Lem said to--told the story exactly like it happened except that Lem and Kelly were arguing over a money loan instead of a dope deal. The cop didn't seem real excited about it. I asked him if this was going to be in the paper and he said probably not, since I didn't die. Apparently kids are getting shot all the time.
That was okay with me. I was a little sick of being in the news.
"I'm going to tell you about your mother."
Pop didn't ask me if I wanted to hear it. I didn't. I thought we were doing all right, ignoring the subject. Pretending like nothing had happened. Neither Pop or Mason had mentioned why I was here or why I'd run out of the office two days ago. One of them had been here every time I could have a visitor; but the conversation never got past how I was feeling--I always said "okay" and didn't mention being tired and sore and depressed and confused. If I didn't mention it, maybe it'd go away.
"I've already told Mason how it was, and I figure the truth'll be better than what you might be thinking."
I don't know, I've managed to live without the truth all this time, I could get along without it now, I thought. But I didn't say anything.
"It was while I was in prison," he began finally.
Huh. I figured that much out myself. I glanced down at Pop. He was studying the calluses on his fingers, like maybe they'd come up with the solution for all this. He was getting bald on top. All that fun, that way he had of being happy with anything, had been knocked right out of him, like air after a stomach punch. I almost felt sorry for him.
"You got to understand that Clare was completely against that bootleggin' business I was mixed up in. She never was the kind of person who'd tell somebody what to do or not to do; she just said Don't expect me to be sitting twiddling my thumbs while you're sent up. If you're dumb enough to do that stuff it'll be you that pays for it, not me.'
"Well, shoot, I knew she was only part-kidding, but I wasn't figuring on getting caught. Mason had come along and we could use the money, and I was making good money--" Pop stopped, took a deep breath, and said, "--the money, hell, I've always been able to do without money. The truth is it was easy and fun and had a nice outlaw kick to it. My poor daddy, the preacher, he never understood why I got such a kick out of breaking the rules. I always did, though. Till I found out what happened to you if you got caught."
I stared at the bunch of flowers on the window sill. My homeroom class had sent them. I had felt funny, you know, getting flowers, but I did like looking at them. If I looked at them hard enough, maybe I wouldn't hear anything.
"Anyway, I did get caught and took my rap plus a couple others my so-called friends decided to dump on me. And there was Clare, nineteen years old with a baby and me off to the state pen. When she got scared it came out mad; she always tried to hide it--being mad. I knew it, but I don't think she ever did."
"Sounds like Mason," I said. I felt real remote. None of this had anything to do with me. None of the people in this story had anything to do with me.
"Yeah, Mason is a lot like she was, proud as Lucifer, a bulldog for grudges--she never spoke to her parents again after they tried to break us up. Bullheaded ... you're the one that looks like her, though," Pop said, simply, "'cept her eyes were gray. She was real good with animals, especially horses. She always said they talked to her and she'd get mad when I laughed."
My wound gave a sudden throb and I had to bite back a gasp.
Then I said, "So she screwed around on you while you were in prison."
I felt Pop look at me. "I don't want to hear talk like that, Texas. I've already belted Mason once about that and I'd hate to hit a hurt kid, but you watch your mouth when you talk about your momma."
His tone was as mild as ever, but I was startled into staring at him and saw that he meant it. He'd belted Mace? He'd never hit Mason. He'd only hit me once--suddenly I remembered something else. Walking out of the police station with him and him saying savagely, "If I ever thought you was going to end up like--" that was when he hit me. And all this time I thought he meant--"If you was going to end up like me."
"I know who your daddy was." It was almost like he'd read my mind. "He was a rodeo rider; I haven't seen him on the circuit so somebody's husband or daddy probably shot him a long time ago. Yeller-eyed tomcat, he was hanging around her, even before." The cold hate in his voice turned blood to ice. How could he hate somebody like that, all these years, and not hate me, too? "There she was, nineteen and alone and working as a waitress, while I sat up there in the pen w
ith the worst trash that ever walked the earth due to my own stupidity. Oh, I wanted her back, even when she told me she was pregnant. She hadn't really cared anything about him, I knew that. It was just a get-even thing with me that she was sorry for, later."
Pop looked at me quickly. I didn't realize I had made any noise. "She never regretted having you, Tex, don't think that She loved you same as she did Mason."
You could tell that half-puzzled him, even now. He continued: "So we moved up here where nobody knew us, started all over. We should have been happy. It never was the same, though. She always sort of expected me to let her down, and I never did really trust her again. That night she walked out in the snow ... we were supposed to go to a Christmas dance, and the last minute I wouldn't go. Said I didn't feel like it, but I just didn't want other guys looking at her, dancing with her, I couldn't stand it, even though I knew I could trust her. It was like they'd know, somehow ... she said she was going if she had to walk. She knew what I was thinking. She did walk, bullheaded ... I followed later and we danced awhile and went over to some friends and then went home, I thought it was just a regular winter cold, the next day, and so did she..." He stopped. He was through.
"All this time, the way you always paid more attention to Mason than me, was this the reason?" I sounded real casual, barely curious, not like I was holding my breath. Which I was.
I wanted him to say. "No, he's just always been more trouble than you," or "No, it just seems like that with the oldest kid," or--
He said, "I reckon."
In a few minutes he said, "You look wore out, Tex. You better get some sleep."
I didn't say anything, and he left.
I did go to sleep, but first I pulled the pillow over my face and cried for a long time.
"Does it hurt much?" Johnny asked me. He was the first person to see me after they took off the family-only rule.
"Not much anymore." I was glad to see him, but I wondered where Jamie was. "When I first woke up it did. Now I'm just sore. I'm glad they took some of those needles out of me."
"The doctors say you're going to be okay. That's not what they were telling us when we got to the emergency room the other night."
"Yeah, I guess I'm lucky it didn't hit anything real important. I didn't know it was a soft-nose .22. Those bullets open up on impact and leave a pretty good-size hole. You guys were at the emergency room?" Was Jamie there, too? I wondered, but didn't ask.
"Yeah, we left for the hospital as soon as Cole called the ambulance and told them where you were."
"Oh, that was why he wanted me off the phone."
"Yeah, it's a good thing he called because you could have bled to death before Lem could get his act together and do something."
That's right, Lem had been there. "I don't remember much about being in the emergency room," I said. I could remember getting wheeled out of the ambulance and there were already tubes in my arms and bottles trailing after me like weird balloons. Somebody stuck a huge needle in my stomach, and I remembered thinking it was a strange time to be giving me a rabies shot, but a doctor told me later they were checking for blood in my stomach. There wasn't any, and apparently that was good. Everything else was fuzzy, just bright lights and people running around sticking me with needles and taking my blood pressure. Going into an elevator on a table...
Johnny had picked up one of my Western Horseman magazines and thumbed through it--suddenly he threw it across the room.
"You were asking for Jamie!" he said. "Dammit Tex, I'm the one that's been your best friend for five years! After all we've been through together, and Jamie's just a girl! We all thought you were going to die and you ask for Jamie!"
He grabbed a bunch of Kleenex off the nightstand and blew his nose.
I looked at him, miserable. And I had thought nothing could make me feel any worse.
"Johnny--"
He shook his head. "Yeah, I know, I'll understand it some day. That's what Bob says. I know this much though, some girl isn't going to make me forget my best friend."
I didn't know what to tell him. I reckon only people who have both been snake-bit can tell each other how it feels.
"Well, she's here," Johnny said grudgingly. I wondered guiltily if he knew how bad I wanted to ask. "I thought you'd probably want to see her alone. So I'll be going."
"Hey, man," I said, "don't go--"
He got up and finished wiping his nose. "No, I got to. We only get ten minutes apiece and Jamie'll kill me if I get one minute of her time."
"You'll be back tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Sure. Only, be careful, Tex."
"Yeah?"
"Listen, I promised God I'd never bug Cole again if you didn't die, and I don't know if I can make it."
Jamie came in. She set a box of candy on the nightstand, knocking off the Kleenex.
"Johnny helped pay for it, but I paid the most so I got to give it to you."
"Thanks," I said. I was getting turned on just looking at her.
I wondered if she could tell, but no, the blanket kept me covered up pretty good.
"I guess you'll be okay now."
"I guess so. You glad?"
"Yeah," she said, kind of defiant, "I am."
"You got pretty hysterical when I was talking to you on the phone," I reminded her.
She scowled for a second. "Well, at least I was calm when we got to the hospital. That's more than I can say for Mason or Johnny."
"Oh, yeah?" I said. Mason hadn't struck me as real shook up. "Ol' Mason get worried?"
Jamie stared at me. Her eyes were the dark blue of a flower I'd seen somewhere, a little dark blue flower with a face like a pug dog.
"Didn't anybody tell you? First Mason jumped Lem Peters right there in the waiting room and the police and orderlies had to break them up. Then, all that time you were being operated on, while you were listed as critical, he just sat and wouldn't speak to anybody. When the doctors came out and said you were going to make it, he started crying and he cried for so long the doctor gave him a shot."
"Mason went to pieces in front of everybody?" I was shocked. Mason had seemed okay when he came to visit, a little tired and quiet, but okay.
"It really was terrible. And Johnny sat there crying and Lem Peters was blubbering and I think everybody was bawling but me."
"You didn't, huh?"
"Well, at least I waited till I got home where nobody could see me."
How about that.
"Jamie, you want to see the bandage where they took the bullet out?"
When she leaned over, I slipped my arm around her and pulled her down for a kiss. She kissed me back. I felt pretty good for a sick person. After a little bit she wiggled loose.
"Ouch," I said.
"Sorry. But you were about to get me curious again."
Curious. Oh, great I sighed. "Jamie, you think we'll ever get this thing worked out so we'll both be happy?"
"I doubt it. I don't think things ever get worked out. I do love you though. But I don't think love solves anything."
"It helps," I said. "It helps a whole lot."
The door opened. I was expecting to be a little embarrassed if it was Mason. It was Cole.
Jamie and I looked at each other, turning red at the same time. What if he'd come in a minute earlier!
"It's time to go, Jamie."
"Okay. Good-bye, Tex. See you at school."
"Bye," I said. I watched her hurry through the door. She was going to be the only girl for me. I could tell.
"I'm glad to hear you're going to be able to go home soon," Cole said.
He seemed even bigger, towering over the hospital bed. Boy, if he knew what I'd been thinking about Jamie! "Yeah," I said awkwardly, "I reckon you probably saved my life. Calling the ambulance."
I thought he might say, "Forget it," but he didn't. He said, "I hope I never regret it."
And he glanced at the door where Jamie had just been.
"No, sir," I said. When he left I understood how
Johnny had felt, making a bargain with God, one you don't know you can keep.
12
"Any mail?" Mason asked me. He got home early from work on Tuesdays. He was working in a restaurant in the city.
"Just a postcard from Johnny and Jamie. They liked Disneyland and were going to see Blackie in San Francisco. I reckon him and Cole are going to bury the hatchet."
That sounded like a good way to spend spring break to me. A lot better than dragging around the house because you weren't supposed to exert yourself. At least I didn't have to stay in bed anymore.
I didn't mention the letter I got from Lem.
Dear Tex,
We decided to leave town and I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about everything. I know Mace said he'd kill me if I ever tried to get in touch with you again. But I am sorry. Don't tell nobody where we are.
Lem
It was postmarked Arizona.
I looked down the barrel of my rifle to make sure the sights were clean. Then I started polishing the stock.
"You going hunting tomorrow?" Mason skimmed over the postcard.
"I'm goin' for a walk and I'll take the gun with me. I ain't going to shoot anything, though. I ain't going to shoot anything ever again."
I knew how it felt.
Mason poured himself a glass of buttermilk. That was about all he could drink lately, besides water. His stomach had been acting up.
"Did you see Mr. Kencaide today?" He paused, but didn't give me the usual lecture about cleaning guns at the kitchen table. He hadn't given me the usual lecture about anything, ever since I came home from the hospital, a month ago.
"Yeah, Pop drove me over this morning. Mr. Kencaide said he could wait another week for me to start work."
"That's good."
Actually, for a minute I thought I wasn't going to get the job. Mr. Kencaide had said, "Well, I really need someone right now--"
My heart sank. The doctors had been real positive about me not lifting or shoveling for another week. There's lots of lifting and shoveling on a horse farm.
Then he said, "Didn't I see your little brother at the Fair a couple of years ago?"
"No, sir, I don't have a little brother. But you came up and talked to me after a class once."
"Hmm. You've grown. I did like the way you handled your horse. I guess I can wait another week."