The Bootlegger’s Legacy (9 page)

He immediately spotted Sally. My, oh my, that was one good lookin’ woman. As he got closer, she turned and gave him a smile that sent chills down his old body. Sally had only been in the city a short while when Pat had met her at this bar. She was a knockout. One night they started talking and she told him that she had come to OKC to have some fun. Said she was working at the John A. Brown’s basement restaurant while she looked for something better. Pat was not real sure if he was being conned or not—she had all of the appearance of a hustler looking to have a good time with wealthy gentlemen. In their first chat Pat had told her he was married, but did a lot of business in the clubs and was usually alone. That first night they had talked for hours, and Pat began to realize he was not only attracted to her beauty, he actually liked her.

After that they’d met a few more times and always seemed to enjoy each other’s company. On their third “date,” Pat had offered Sally some money. Well, all hell broke loose. “What do you think I am—some kind of whore? Listen you dumb son-of-a-bitch, I don’t want your money and I don’t want your company.” She had stomped off to the ladies room, leaving Pat embarrassed and humiliated. He’d figured that was that, and that he wouldn’t see her again given that he’d been so vile. But after about fifteen minutes she’d returned to the booth where Pat was soothing his wounds. After some time she said she was sorry for her outburst and began to be friendlier. Pat was confused. He’d understood her earlier anger. Now he didn’t know what was happening at all. Sally said, “Look, Pat, I care about you a lot. I know you’re married and I don’t expect this to be anything but two people enjoying each other’s company and having some fun. I also know you think you’re too old for me and the only reason I go out with you is money—well, that’s not true. I like you, okay? I enjoy going out—and it makes it a lot easier for me if you’re buying—is that so horrible? I’m not taking money from you—that would make me something I’m not. I know this is a fling and it won’t last, but I say, hey, let’s enjoy it while we can.” Pat thought,
wow what a woman
. “And Pat, I want to make it clear I won’t take money from you—but dinners and drinks are just fine, and an occasional gift wouldn’t be frowned upon.” The rules of the game had been laid out. The only remaining question was whether he wanted to play—he did.

After that, Pat had rented an apartment and Sally moved in. He bought her a car, and he bought her clothes and jewelry—but she kept her job and didn’t take money from him. This logic worked for Sally and Pat never complained.

Pat never took Sally for granted. He knew she had options and he always tried to treat her like a lady. There were times when Sally could make that difficult, but they quickly passed. She was funny and he loved being with her. For an old man she was like a fountain of youth. He dressed better. His clothes became more stylish and he paid three times what he had before for his haircuts. He thought he was looking pretty good.

“You’re looking lovelier than ever.” Pat still felt a little funny saying these kinds of things, but he sure meant it.

“Thanks, Pat. Look, I’m sorry about my little fit at Browns. You know, I haven’t seen you much lately and I guess it was starting to feel like you were losing interest. Well, I don’t know, I just lost it.”

Pat was impressed at how well Sally handled herself. She was very young, but she seemed so mature. It occurred to him that some people were just older than others, no matter their age. Sally had a mature wisdom, but also a little girl’s joy in life. He was finding that he wanted more and more to be with her. Fully recognizing the folly in this, he still found he couldn’t help himself.

“Sally, I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with my business customers I haven’t had much time. That’s going to change. Why don’t you come with me on a trip to New Mexico? We can see each other more and have a lot of fun drinking margaritas and eating enchiladas. Maybe we can even find a place to go dancing—what do you say?”

Sally let out a scream of joy that got everyone’s attention, and after some enthusiastic hugs and a few kisses she said, “Yes!”

Dallas, Texas / Oklahoma City, Oklahoma—Some Years Earlier

Sally Thompson had to get away from her brother, Hank. Because either Hank was going to make her permanently crazy or she was going to kill him. Her brother thought he knew everything, and since their mother had died he’d taken it on as his personal responsibility, as the head of the family, to make Sally miserable.

Sally lived in a rather shabby part of Dallas with her brother and sister in the apartment once occupied by their mother. Things had been different when her mother was alive. Her mother had loved all of her children, although she’d seemed to favor the girls. She’d fussed with them and hugged them—she’d been wonderful. Every day she’d made them feel special and loved. But then she had become ill—they’d said it was the flu—and in a matter of a few weeks she had died.

The sadness Sally felt was physically painful. She had trouble just getting out of bed. Soon her brother started acting like he was in charge. He would yell at Sally that she had to find another job. He made her miserable. She had been fired from her previous job because she’d stayed home with her mom while she was sick. Her sister had helped, but she was still in school and said she couldn’t miss any more classes or their brother would kill her.

Sally was an extremely attractive young woman. She had just turned twenty-three when her mother died. Her best years had been in high school, when it seemed every boy in school was attracted to her. She felt like she was a queen or something, with all of that attention. But even with all the adulation, Sally had remained aloof. She felt she was destined for something very special. After high school, Sally had no option but to find work to help support her family. She had never known her father, who apparently had left when Sally was very young. Her mother never discussed him.

During the years after high school, Sally had been a waitress at several restaurants in her neighborhood. She gave most of her money to her mother, who would waste it on her big, useless brother. Sally always thought her mother seemed intimated by her brother—he had a meanness about him. Sally didn’t mind the work, even though she got tired of all the men making a play for her. There were many days when she deliberately didn’t make any effort to look good, just so maybe those lugs would leave her alone—it didn’t help.

To appease her brother, she decided to go out and see if she could get another job. She thought she might go back to the last place and explain why she hadn’t been able to work and they might hire her back—but for some reason that felt like begging, and she didn’t beg.

Sally knew she was beautiful. What most people didn’t realize, although Sally knew it, was that she was also smart. In the illogic of the times, people simply thought that a good looking woman
couldn’t
be smart. Sally knew that she wanted something better for herself than just marrying some guy and becoming a household slave, cooking, cleaning, and putting up with the sexual advances of some ape, just to have a place to live. She thought that with her looks and brains she should be able to do anything she wanted. Although the world seemed ready to disagree.

Sally got a waitressing job at another greasy spoon diner close to her apartment. Same job, same grabby boss, same foul-mouthed cook—and, it would appear, the same goddamn customers. It was more than she could deal with. She lasted two weeks at the new job, told her boss to go to hell, and walked out.

She went home, fell onto her bed, and cried. Why was everything so hard? She knew she had options—men were always making lewd propositions to her—but her own moral code wouldn’t let her take them up on it. There were times when she didn’t understand why she said no.

Hank had become religious during his senior year in high school, and religion seemed to give him a new power. Almost everything he said was based on some strange interpretation of the Bible. He constantly berated Sally about the evils of sin, and the biggest sin of all was sex. It seemed all Hank thought about was sex. In the last year or so, Hank has started to look at Sally in an unhealthy way. Sally knew Hank was having sex with the girl next door, mostly because you could hear them for some distance and it happened almost every day. Sally didn’t understand how that fit with Hank’s view of morality, but she really didn’t care as long as he left her alone.

Lying on her bed, she made a decision: she was leaving. She worried about her sister, but by this point she felt a sense of desperation. She’d had a premonition that if she didn’t leave something bad would happen. She wrote a note to her sister.

Dear Sis,

I hope you understand why I am doing this. Remember that I love you, but I have to leave. I cannot live in the same place with Hank. Something bad would happen. You should also leave as soon as you can.

I’m going to Oklahoma City. Do not tell Hank. Once I get there I’ll let you know how to get a hold of me.

Please be careful. I love you very much.

Sally

She put the note on her sister’s bed and began packing what little she had. It didn’t even fill her one small suitcase.

Sally had a little bit of money. Not much, but probably enough to buy a bus ticket somewhere. The Greyhound bus station was only a few blocks from her downtown slum apartment. She walked.

“How much for a ticket to Oklahoma City—one way?” She was both scared and excited. She had decided on Oklahoma City because it was the closest big city that wasn’t in Texas. It was an act of rebellion: she wanted out of Texas because her brother thought it was so great.

The man in the ticket window gave her the amount. “Wow that’s cheap.” She paid and he gave her a ticket.

Sally found the right bus number and got on board, giving the driver her ticket. Greyhound had buses leaving for OKC almost every hour—hers would leave in twenty minutes. She went to the back, still holding her small suitcase, and sat down. The bus filled up. A couple of men gave her glances, but she just stared out the window and tried to ignore them.

Sally had never been anywhere. She’d been born in Dallas and had never left. She knew Oklahoma City was just up the road—she thought it was a couple hundred miles—but at least she was going
somewhere
. She was sorry about her sister, but she felt she had no choice—she simply couldn’t deal with Hank any longer. If she never saw him again, that would be fine. The bus started and the door shut. Pulling away Sally almost cried, but she didn’t.

The scenery was not a whole lot different whether you were in Texas or Oklahoma. The trip was only about four hours or so. They pulled into the Oklahoma City bus station, and if it hadn’t been for the signs she could have been in Dallas. Maybe you had to travel further for it to look different. Sally got off of the bus.
Now what?

Within a few blocks she found a hotel. It looked like something she might be able to afford—it was cheap. She paid cash for one week’s rent. Now she was almost out of money. The room had a bed and a small dresser with one drawer that wouldn’t open. Sally unpacked her few possessions and had a good cry. On her own at last. She felt some relief, but she was also frightened.

The next day Sally put on her best outfit and walked toward downtown Oklahoma City, only a few blocks from where she was staying. There had to be restaurants there where she could get a job. Once she was in the middle of downtown, what caught her eye was the display windows in John A. Browns—huge windows with some of the most beautiful clothes she’d ever seen, like the designer outfits she’d seen in magazines. She’d passed windows like this in Dallas, but somehow being on her own made everything more alive.

She postponed her job hunt for a while and decided to go into Browns to see what it was like. Unfortunately it wasn’t open yet. But there was a sign announcing that the Colonial Lunch Room was now serving breakfast—it pointed toward a staircase that led to the basement. Sally went down, sat at the counter, and had a cup of coffee. She asked the waitress if she knew of any places that were hiring.

“Sure, they’re always hiring right here. These people are hard to work for, so there’s always an opening.”

Not much of a recommendation, but beggars can’t be choosers. She was hired and she started at eleven that same day. Sally was ready for some fun.

She quickly made friends, especially male friends. These were mostly young men with no money who were after one thing. Sally wasn’t going to end up with any of these losers—she wanted something better. She quickly developed a reputation as a prude and a snob, but that suited her just fine.

After a few months, the gentlemen hanging around Browns’ lunch counter became a little older—and definitely richer. Sally liked them better. This improvement was a direct result of what might be called the gentlemen’s downtown grapevine. The offices in downtown Oklahoma City were full of executives and junior executives who gossiped about women with little shame. She started going out with three or four of these guys, rotating her attention from one to another. It was fun going out to clubs and dancing. But it was tiring to deal with all of these male egos.