Tex (11 page)

“Stop it!”

My heart was thumping in my ears so hard I barely heard her. She was wiggling in my arms like a landed bass; she got her hands on my chest and shoved. I let go, trembling from trying not to crush her. I couldn't tell how much time had passed—minutes or hours.

“What's wrong?” I asked, when I could get my breath.

She tugged her sweat shirt down. “I am not ready for this. I mean it.”

I stared at her, completely mixed up. Looking at her without touching her was almost a real, physical pain. She must know how I feel, I thought, she wouldn't be that mean to me … I reached for her again.

“I mean it, Texas,” she warned.

Man, that hurt me. I just didn't get it. I slid back to my side of the truck, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.

“Well,” I said, as soon as I thought I could talk okay. “What did you let me get started for?”

“I didn't know you'd be in such an all-fired hurry. Anyway, I was curious.”

Curious. I was burning up and she was curious. Something was really wrong here.

“I hate it when Cole is right,” Jamie said suddenly.

“What's Cole got to do with this?” I asked tiredly, resting my head against the steering wheel.

“He said I was too young to start dating. I mean, dating even. We haven't even gone to the movies yet.”

“Okay. We can go to a movie.” The last thing I wanted to do was go to a movie. I'd just be waiting for it to get over with so we could come here and make out. “Jamie, I love you.”

“Look Tex, I love you too.” She certainly sounded matter-of-fact about it. “Right now I think you're the only boy I'll ever feel this way about, but, then, I'm probably wrong about that. But even if you are—look, my life is complicated enough right now. Sometimes I think I hate everybody, and sometimes I think I love everybody, and sometimes I'm mean and hateful to people, like Johnny or Bob, just to see if I can hurt them, but I love them and I'm sorry, after. I get mad at Cole for not understanding anything and mad at Mona for understanding everything. A lot of times I can't stand the way I act. I mean, I know people think I'm a bitch. And then I think if people don't like the way I act they can go jump in the lake. Then I worry that nobody likes me. See? See? I'm having enough trouble figuring things out right now without throwing in sex.”

When she said “sex” I felt my face go red. I know it sounds dumb, but I hadn't thought of what we were doing as sex.

“I guess you don't love me as much as I love you,” I said.

“You turn pitiful on me and I won't love you a bit.”

I laughed a little, even though I felt like spanking her.

“Jamie, when we get older, sixteen maybe, let's get married.”

I knew I'd never feel this way about any other girl. I wanted to know Jamie was going to be there the rest of my life.

“I can see me marrying you,” Jamie said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. When I'm eighteen or nineteen and scared of the way things are changing, the way people are going off in different directions, and the simple life looks romantic, a good way to keep everything the same … yeah, I can see me marrying you. It'd last about a year.”

If she'd thrown a bucket of cold water over me it wouldn't have done a better job of cooling me off. I was even shivering a little bit as I started the pickup. All the feeling had been wrung out of me.

“I forget,” I said, making a U-turn on the dark road. “You're one of them that's going.”

Johnny and Bob were waiting at the car wash, sitting in Denny Brogan's car.

“See you at lunch Monday?” Jamie asked, before she opened her door. I'd been quiet all the way back and she was getting uneasy about it. I shrugged. “I don't care.”

I did, though. I really did.

“Well, neither do I!” She jumped out of the truck and slammed the door so hard it cracked the window right down the middle. I just looked at it. I'd seen Mason do the same thing twice before. Bob took off in a big hurry—I guess he was late for a date. I just sat there, watching people drive up and down, talking to whoever pulled over and got in the truck with me. Everybody hung out at the car wash on Saturday night, sitting on their cars, driving by, looking for booze or dope or just company. I was just out for some company.

You could pick up girls there, too, but if I couldn't have Jamie, I didn't want anybody.

“You think this is going to be worth it?” Johnny whispered. “What if they find out who did it?”

“Nobody's going to find out who did it,” I whispered back. We were gluing individual caps on the keys of the typewriters in office machines class. As soon as the key hit the paper, the cap would explode. Since this was the day of the nine-week test, there would be a lot of keys hitting at the same time. There was always something depressing about a test day, anyway. I figured this little job might liven things up some. The month that had passed since my fight with Jamie had been really draggy.

Johnny and I got to school real early and used a special key Roger Genet loaned me. It would open about anything if you knew how to use it. I didn't ask Roger what he used it for.

“Sure it's worth it” I went on. “Even if they do find out who did it, what's going to happen? We'd get sent to the office, get a lecture and a couple of swats. That's nothing.”

Johnny gave me a dry look. “Cole Collins isn't your father.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. Well, anyway, nobody'll know it was us.”

When we got through, we locked the door carefully and went out to the smoke hole, which was the road corner of the baseball field. Nobody else was there, it was still too early. Johnny had started smoking lately. I got the feeling it was to put something over on Cole. I've been meaning to take it up myself, but haven't got around to it yet.

“I guess Mason's all excited about his scholarship,” Johnny said.

“You'd think so, having his pick of a few like that,” I answered. “But he's still so strung out sometimes I think he's lost his marbles. I figured once basketball was over and he was sure he was going to college he'd calm down some. But he's on my back all the time, worse than before.”

Sometimes I thought Mason hollered at me all the time to make up for Pop not hollering at all. It was like he was constantly poking and prodding at Pop to make him do something—what, exactly, I didn't know, and Pop sure didn't, either. Sometimes he'd look at Mason like a chicken that had hatched a goose egg. If Mason was worried that Pop wasn't paying enough attention to me, he could have saved himself the trouble. Mason would be gone for college pretty soon and then Pop would have to notice me a little more. I mean, I'd be the only kid, then.

“At least he's got a job now,” Johnny was saying. He dropped his cigarette and ground it under his heel. It did look cool. I'll have to get around to smoking one of these days.

“Yeah, at least he's gone more. I used to think I was going to really miss ol' Mace when he left, but now I think I'll cheer all the way to the airport.”

“Uh, you haven't seen Jamie lately, have you?” Johnny said. He sounded like he had rehearsed it.

Well, it had been one month and four days since the basketball game and I'd thought about her at least every hour since then, but I just said, “Not lately.”

I'd see her in the halls and my heart would spook and take off at a pounding gallop. Then she'd just say, “Oh hi,” and I'd nod back, cool as possible. After that I'd want to either run up and hug her, or belt her. Or go off somewhere and cry. I didn't do any of them.

I wasn't about to say all that to Johnny.

“Any particular reason?” he asked.

For a second I wondered if Jamie had put him up to this. Maybe she missed me as much as I did her. Then I thought, “No way. She didn't care.”

“No special reason,” I lied calmly. Johnny looked at me skeptically. “Geez, Tex, you still do like her, don't you?”

He sounded like he couldn't imagine why anybody'd like Jamie.

Me and Johnny could always talk about anything. That was what best friends were for. It was weird, not being able to say anything about this to him. I couldn't do it, though. Finally I just said, “Let's get back. We don't want to miss the fireworks.”

“I've called your parents,” Mrs. Johnson said.

Capping the typewriters had gone even better than we'd hoped. The dead silence of a school on nine-week test day; everybody a little tense, whether they cared about grades or not—test day'll do that to you; me and Johnny looking at each other, cracking up before anything happened; Miss Carlson frowning, “What are you two…”

And from the typing room next door, noise like a machine gun. Followed by shrieks.

Mrs. Bennet had to go home with a case of nerves. Miss Carlson couldn't get the class calmed down soon enough to have time for the whole test, so she had to divide it into two parts. We heard later that the news made it all over the school in one hour, and over to the high school the next. All in all, it went better than we ever hoped, except that we were the suspects and laughing too hard to deny it.

“Your fathers, I should say.”

I stared down at the paperweight on Mrs. Johnson's desk, one of those balls you turn upside down to make it look like a snow scene. I tried to look sorry.

“You called my father? At work?” Johnny's face went white.

“The last time you got into trouble, your father asked me to call him if something happened again. Immediately. He'll be here soon. Tex, your father will be here after school. You can wait in the office until he gets here.”

“All day?” I looked at the dock. It was 10:30. “What about the rest of the tests I'm having today?”

“You'll have to worry about that later. I'm not going to give you a chance to disrupt the rest of the day. Just have a seat in the foyer. You'll be there awhile.”

The thought of sitting around all day was making me sick. But I didn't feel anywhere near as bad as Johnny. He looked like a ghost. I really felt sorry for him.

He suddenly jumped a little, and quickly jammed his hand down his shirt pocket. “Here,” he whispered, handing me his cigarettes. “Holy cow,” I breathed, taking them. That would be all he needed, Cole catching him with cigarettes on top of everything else.

“Quiet you two,” snapped an office worker. I stuffed the package in my pocket hastily, hearing heavy footsteps in the hall. Johnny looked like he was about to throw up. I glanced up into the doorway, cringing a little myself. It wasn't Cole, it was Mason.

“Hey,” I said, “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mason said.

My stomach plunged. I hadn't been too afraid of facing Pop, but the look on Mason's face was giving me chills.

“Oh, God Mace, get outta here,” Johnny begged, “Cole's going to be—”

Cole walked in the door. I froze where I was slouched in my chair. Johnny looked like he wished he were dead. Only Mason seemed unaffected. He just nodded at Cole like he probably would if he met him in the dime store.

Cole looked at Johnny, then at me. “I might have known,” he said.

I managed to pull my legs in under me and straighten up some. Something about the tone of his voice made me feel like I was lower than an earthworm.

“Might have known what?” Mason asked, not hotheaded like you'd expect, just reasonable.

Mrs. Johnson came to the door of her office. “Since I do have a conference room, may I suggest we hold our conference there, instead of here in the hallway? Hello Mason, I don't remember calling you to this meeting.”

“I'm here anyway,” Mason said. “I knew Pop couldn't get off work and you'd want to talk to somebody about Tex.”

“So here you are. Well, come in, everybody.”

Everybody waited for Johnny and me to unfold ourselves and troop in first, like criminals going to the execution.

“Might have known what?” Mason asked again, once the office door was shut behind him. Like there hadn't been any interruption.

He could look Cole in the eye. He'd grown that much. Cole stared back at him steadily with those dark blue eyes he'd branded every one of his kids with.

“I might have known that your brother was behind this. He usually is, whenever Johnny gets into trouble.”

“Or Johnny gets Tex into trouble. I think it's fifty-fifty,” Mason said. He sounded calm, completely in control of himself. Not flaked out like he had been lately.

Cole turned to me. “Tell the truth—”

Man, with Cole Collins towering over you, you told the truth!

“Was this your idea or Johnny's?”

I started to open my mouth, but Mason said, “I know this was Tex's idea, and I know where he got the idea. The point is, it isn't always his fault. Last spring when he and Johnny were messing with the shopping carts at the Safeway store, and Johnny ran Tex into the side of the store and fractured his arm, did I come storming over to your place, trying to get you to lock Johnny up? No. I just figured next time would be Tex's turn to do something stupid.”

Cole didn't look convinced. He went back to Johnny. “Didn't I tell you that this friendship wasn't going to do you any good? I want you to promise me that you're going to end it, right here.”

Suddenly I was so glad Cole didn't know I was in love with Jamie. For the first time I understood what Romeo and Juliet was about, even though I never have been able to read the play.

“No,” Johnny said.

Cole said “What?”

Johnny had more guts than I'll ever give myself credit for—he answered, “No, sir.”

“Tex,” Mason said suddenly, “tell the truth—” he was half-mocking Cole and didn't care if he did know it—“Are those your cigarettes in your shirt pocket?”

I gave him the dirtiest look I could come up with. Johnny was close to shaking.

“Yeah,” I said, “they are.”

Cole looked at me, and then at Johnny. Then he said to Mason, “Get to the point.”

“The point is, neither one of these two turkeys is perfect. Both of them have a bad tendency toward trouble. But you can't blame Tex every time. He's not a bad kid, and he's not a bad influence, any more than Johnny is.”

Suddenly I realized Mace was controlling himself because he cared about what Cole thought of him.

He didn't care if Pop or I saw him lose his temper, but here he was, breaking his back to get Cole's respect. And you could tell by the way Cole looked at him, that he'd gotten it.

Jamie was right, I thought, how weird.

“You may be right,” Cole said at last. Shook up as he was, Johnny couldn't help giving me a look of amazement. Somebody other than Cole be right?!

“Well, now that we've agreed that the blame is to be shared equally, maybe you'd like to hear what the punishment is?” Mrs. Johnson said.

“I'd like to hear what your punishment is,” Cole said. “What I have in mind may be different.”

“Three days suspension. The nine-week tests will be made up every day after school, a test a day. They will receive a grade lower than the grade they score. And I'm sending a recommendation over to the high school that Johnny and Tex be placed in separate classes next year.”

“That sounds fair,” Cole said. Then he said, “John, what did I tell you would happen the next time you got into trouble at school?”

“You're going to sell the cycle.”

Man, I was so mad I couldn't see straight. They were really being big shots. And when Cole glanced at Mason, I said hotly, “He's already sold my horse, I don't think he can do much else to me.”

“I'll probably think of something,” Mason said mildly.

“I'm sure you will, you lousy son of a bitch,” Johnny said.

Silence. Me and Johnny looked at each other. He'd said it for both of us. And to both of them. We shared a split second of triumph, before Cole took Johnny by the shoulders and marched him out of the office.

“I'll be back this afternoon,” Mason said to Mrs. Johnson. “When Pop gets here.”

“Mason, I understand your concern, but do you think that's necessary?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, “oh, yeah.”

Then it was just me and Mrs. Johnson, looking at each other over her desk. She sighed. “Tex, you better take a seat in the foyer again. You're going to have a long day.”

“I reckon so,” I paused. “Listen, Mrs. Johnson, I really am sorry. I didn't think it was going to cause all this trouble.”

Usually she would give me a wry grin and say, “Try not to let it happen again.” But today she set her jaw and said, “Texas, listen to me. You had better start thinking.”

I kind of cringed out of her office like a whipped pup. I hate to get people I like mad at me. But I can't seem to stop doing things that make people mad. It is really strange.

Nothing exciting happened in the office that morning, except when I accidentally tripped somebody. My legs are growing so fast it's hard for me to keep track of where the end of 'em are.

I got to leave for twenty minutes to get some lunch, but sitting around had killed my appetite, so I went out to the smoke hole instead of the cafeteria. I was getting congratulated on the best stunt of the year, when I noticed a blue car parked along the road next to the baseball field. I ducked out of the group and ran over.

“Hey, Lem!” I opened the car door and hopped in. “What are you doing out here?”

Lem looked like I'd just woke him up from a nap. “Hey, Tex, how's it goin'? Oh, I'm waiting around for Dwayne Kirkpatrick. I'm tryin' to talk him into letting me have some of that third generation home-grown he's got. Man, I could get a hundred bucks a lid for that stuff. I gotta little bit left, want to try it? One hit'll last you the rest of the day.”

“For a hundred bucks a lid it ought to last you the rest of the month. Shoot Lem, nobody's got a hundred bucks to spend on grass.”

“You'd be surprised, man. And this is dynamite stuff, killer weed.”

“Well, if you're waiting for Dwayne you'll be here all day. He skipped school to go fishing.”

Lem shook his head. “That turkey—he's got no sense when it comes to money. He'll make the grade in aggie school, though, 'cause he sure knows how to breed his weeds.”