Song of the Road (10 page)

“Mr. Santez said you hadn’t ought to be liftin’ heavy stuff. Said it would be hard on ya when your baby came.”

“He’s a nice man.” Mary Lee couldn’t get used to speaking so frankly about her condition to men and boys, but Eli evidently thought nothing about it.

“I’ll carry the box to your room.”

“Thanks. Oh, there’s a car turning in. If they take the cabin, we’ll be full up.” Mary Lee hurried to greet the man stepping out of the car.

It wasn’t until the four cabins were rented and the light turned off over the No Vacancy sign that Mary Lee had time to open the box from Rosa Santez. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she lifted out baby gowns, bands, booties, and several small flannel blankets. There were three maternity dresses with drawstrings at the waist, and a nice skirt with matching overblouse. Everything was here that she would need for the baby for the first few months.

Mary Lee opened the bottom drawer of her chest to put away the baby clothes and saw the strap on her handbag sticking out from the drawer above. A premonition caused her heart to sink even before she opened the purse to check her money.

The ten dollars she had tucked away for the baby was gone.
It hurt dreadfully to lose the money, but it hurt even more knowing who had taken it. She stood for a long moment, holding her purse to her chest. How could her own mother do this to her? She fought back the storm of tears that threatened to sweep over her.
She could not break down. She could not let go.
The words repeated themselves over and over in her mind. She had to cope. There was no one to help her. She thanked the Lord she had locked the rent money in her suitcase.

Hurt gave way to anger. She went through the bathroom to her mother’s room, but the door wouldn’t open; something was wedged against it. The door going into the bedroom from the living room was locked. Mary Lee hurried out the back to where Eli sat on the step of the washhouse.

“Eli, have you seen my mother?”

“She left before I went to get the box.”

“Did she go to town?”

“She went that way.”

Mary Lee was not only angry, she was heartsick. She had no doubt that the ten dollars she had saved for her baby would be spent on booze at one of the dives in town. Dolly would be the big spender tonight and treat her cronies.

The jukebox was blaring. The Texas Playboys were playing “San Antonio Rose” when Jake, after eating at Ruby’s, walked into the Red Pepper Corral and took a seat at the bar. Paco was busy drawing beer in the heavy mugs and handing out bottles from the cooler. A few couples were dancing on the small floor. He was smiling when he came down the bar with a mug of beer for Jake.

“Business is good tonight.”

“I could tell by the grin on your face.”

“Lon Delano and a couple of pals are over there in the corner with Frank Pierce and Dolly Finley.”

“I saw them when I came in. Started to back out, but what the hell —I didn’t come in to prove my dick is bigger than theirs. I’ve as much right to come in here as they have.”

“Frank’s in a mean mood.”

“I’ll not start trouble if he doesn’t.”

“He’s brayin’ about you takin’ his radio and how it took you and a kid with a ball bat to get it away from him.”

Jake grunted and took a deep drink from his glass. “Dolly’s treatin’ tonight.”

“Where’d she get the money? They can’t even connect their telephone.”

“She bought several rounds for the whole bunch.”

“If she messes around with that trash she’ll get more than she bargained for.”

Paco wiped the bar vigorously. “They’re making a fool of her.”

“What do you care?”

“I hate to see any woman, even an old drunk like Dolly, being used by horseshit like Delano and Frank.”

“She wouldn’t thank you for those thoughts.” Jake emptied his glass.

“I hear her girl is cleaning up the court and it’s looking presentable again.”

“She’s working her tail off. I’ve not seen Dolly lift a hand.”

“What happened ’tween you and Frank?”

“The bastard had his radio turned up so loud you could hear it a block away. Mary Lee asked him to turn it down and he shoved her. I stepped in so her overnighters wouldn’t demand their money back and leave.”

“Careful you don’t give anyone cause to send you back to the pen.”

“If I think there’s a chance, I’ll be long gone. I’m not going back to that hellhole for something I didn’t do!”

Lon Delano, a thick-chested man who tried to make up for the loss of hair on the top of his head by wearing his sideburns long and growing a thick mustache, led Dolly onto the dance floor. It was a pathetic sight. Her scrawny arms were around his neck. Soon the fingers of the hand cupping her buttock were pleating her dress. The hem came up the backs of her thighs and had almost reached her bottom. Dolly was either unaware of it or didn’t care.

Paco growled his disapproval. He reached under the counter and brought out a heavy leather strap with a weight on the end. He slapped it on the counter.

“That’s gone about as far as it’ll go on my dance floor.”

“She’s drunk.”

“He isn’t.” Swinging the sap by the end, Paco walked from around the counter and out onto the floor. He tapped Lon on the shoulder. “If you’re wantin’ to get in her drawers, take her outside.”

“What’s he sayin’, honey? What’s he sayin’?”

“He’s sayin’ you’re the prettiest gal in here tonight.” Lon winked at Paco. “Let’s go sit awhile.” With an arm around Dolly, he urged her back to the booth.

“What was that about?” Frank asked belligerently.

“Nothin’ important.”

“I’ve seen him swing that sap. It’d break a man’s jaw.” Lon sat close to Dolly.

“She shore don’t look like she’s goin’ to be a grandma, does she, Frank?”

“Hell, she don’t act like she’s goin’ to be a grandma, either.”

“When is your gal goin’ to pop out that youngun?”

“Haven’t asked her.”

“She goin’ to get Ocie to help her raise the kid?”

“She’d better get somebody to help her. I sure ain’t.”

“Don’t blame ya, honeybunch. You’re too young and pretty to be tied down to a squalling kid.”

“Ah, pshaw. Ya don’t have to butter me up.”

“I’m not butterin’ ya.”

“What’a ya call it, then?”

“Tellin’ a pretty woman I’d like to come callin’ on ya.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Frank said. “Dolly’s my girl.”

“You boys goin’ to fight over me?” Dolly asked coyly.

“Damn right,” Frank said, and winked at Lon.

Lon gritted his teeth and looked away.
Ugly old bitch! Frank can have her. I wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire, if it wasn’t for her girl and the brat in her belly.

“You’re welcome to come anytime.” Dolly dug into her pocket and put some money on the table. “I’m ready for another drink. How about you, sugar?”

Chapter 7

T
HE LIGHT OF DAWN WAS COMING IN
through her bedroom window when Mary Lee heard Jake’s truck go by the house. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting her head clear before she stood and went to the bathroom. Her back and shoulders ached as they had each morning since she returned to the motor court. Thank goodness she was past the period of morning sickness.

Mary Lee washed her face and hands, and as she dried them, she looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink. She had never considered herself pretty, merely pleasant-looking. Now she looked . . . haggard. Dark smudges underlined her eyes, and because her face was thinner, her nose appeared sharper and her cheekbones stood out.

She had to take the time to go see Dr. Morris.

After scrubbing her teeth, she brushed the thick hair back from her face and looped it behind her ears. It was getting too long. One of these days soon she was going to have to cut the ends. Maybe she could get Eli to do it.

In the kitchen she filled the teakettle, set it over the kerosene burner and took down the heavy crockery pitcher to make tea. She hadn’t been able to drink coffee since she had become pregnant. Mary Lee wasn’t in the mood to eat, but knew that she must and that Eli would be hungry. Fifteen minutes later biscuits were in the oven.

As the morning progressed, she buried herself in the work and tried not to dwell on her mother’s betrayal. She had been awake when Dolly came in last night, or rather early this morning. Someone had helped her, because later Mary Lee had heard heavy footsteps leaving the house.

Mary Lee had gone over and over in her mind what she was going to say to Dolly when she sobered up. Finally she decided that, other than letting her know that she was aware who had taken her money, she wouldn’t distress herself by saying more. Her mother hadn’t paid attention to her husband, so why would she pay attention to what her daughter had to say?

Mary Lee’s problems seemed to multiply later in the morning when a big black car drove in off the highway as she was coming out of a cabin with cleaning supplies. The car moved slowly toward her and stopped. She made no attempt to greet the man who got out, but proceeded on to the last cabin to be cleaned.

Anger, fear and resentment set her heart hammering when Ocie Clawson came to the door.

“Come out here, girl,” he demanded gruffly.

“What do you want?”

“What are ya hidin’ for? Are ya ashamed to face me?”

The harsh words brought Mary Lee out the door. She stood with her hands on her hips.

“You’ve got a nerve to come here and face
me,
you cold-hearted old . . . toad!”

“Well, now, that’s more like it. Is that Bobby’s kid in yore belly?”

Mary Lee’s face went hot and cold by turns. She stared into sharp blue eyes that stared back at her from beneath shaggy white brows. Ocie Clawson was a big man, long in the body, with broad shoulders and deep chest. Age had thickened his middle and thinned his hair. A stained white mustache curved down on each side of his mouth. He wore a five-dollar Stetson and hand-tooled boots.

“It’s none of your business who fathered my child.” Amazement and anger that he would ask such a question warred in her chest.

“I think it is. If it’s Bobby’s kid, it’s a Clawson and I’ll see that it’s reared right!”

“Well, it isn’t Bobby’s. So you can forget that. I had so many men I don’t know who the father is.”

“Yo’re a liar!” His hamlike fists clenched as if to strike her. “I know what ya was doing in Oklahoma. I knowed where ya worked, knowed where ya lived, knowed ya didn’t get no help from that lazy whelp ya married up with. Ya didn’t have no other man then. I ain’t knowin’ ’bout while ya been here.”

“You knew where we were, yet when your son was killed, you let the county bury him in a pauper’s grave. You miserly, miserable old buzzard! You should be very proud of yourself.”

“He was no son to me!” he roared. “He stole money from his own pa and gambled it away!”

Mary Lee took a deep breath. His words so closely paralleled what her mother had done to her that, despite herself, she felt a twinge of compassion for him that faded as soon as he spoke again.

“Ya married him thinkin’ ya’d get money out of me and be livin’ on easy street. It didn’t work, did it?”

“I never wanted anything from you then and I don’t now. I felt sorry for Bobby. You ran him down all his life, eroded his confidence, made him feel worthless. He wasn’t up to what you thought a man should be, so you ran him off.”

“Ya know nothin’ about it, missy.”

“I know plenty. During the year and a half I was married to him he cried many times and told me how you had humiliated him in front of the men who worked for you by telling them he wasn’t man enough to bed a woman and how you beat him when he couldn’t stay on a bucking horse!” Mary Lee’s angry voice was evidence of the hatred and disgust she had for this man. “When he fought you for taking a horse-whip to one of the Mexican women, you disowned him, threw him out.”

“Lies! All lies! He was a liar and a thief!”

“And whose fault was that? All his life he tried to please you but never quite made the grade.”

“Christ, woman! Ya swallered his lies hook, line and sinker. But I ain’t carin’ what ya think. I intend to have a say ’bout that kid in your belly. You can count on it.”

“
You
can count on this, Mr. Ocie Clawson. You’re a bull-headed, narrow-minded know-it-all and you’ll have nothing to say about my child. Get off my property and don’t come back. I don’t want my baby to ever set eyes on your face.”

“Right sassy, ain’t ya? We’ll see. What’re ya goin’ to do when Bob Rosen throws ya out of here for not payin’ yore pa’s loan? Ya ain’t takin’ my grandson to no hobo camp or soup kitchen. Ain’t no Clawson — except that weak-kneed milksop ya married — been so down and out that they had to beg, and even he had enough sense to get a woman to work and support him.”

“Get off my property, you big fat cockroach! You’re not worth the energy it would take to squash you!”