Cowboy Country (48 page)

“Sorry, Ralph, we got a truckload of hogs to take up to slaughter, or I would,” Lance grinned. “Gotta be there before noon.”

“Get outta here, Lance, go get your hogs slaughtered. Pigs can’t wait!” Okay moved towards to door yelling, wiping his greasy hands on a filthy rag. “Damn Widow McCutcheon’s lookin’ for a favor with this axle, what does she think I can do about her runnin’ over rocks? I jus’ told her to get her damn eyes checked.

Widow McCutcheon cleaned the Presbyterian Church over on Merriman Street. Her father had been pastor there.

Lance and Wyatt stood stock-still, stunned.

“He did,” Jessie acknowledged ruefully, behind the counter now, dishing up chili.

“I surely did tell her,” Ralph insisted. “Why not? S’for her own good.”

“She was crushed. It was difficult to watch,” Jessie told Lance and Wyatt. “But I figure, now she has ammunition to talk Ralph down on the bill, since he told her she needs a new prescription.”

Jessie had aimed the last bit towards the back, and on cue, Ralph stuck his head into the grocery and glared in Jessie’s direction. ”Don’t be sassin’ me, miss. You seem ta forget who cuts your pay. Mind your place.”  He turned to Lance. “Good Luck with th’ pigs. I gotta get some damn work done.”

The banging resumed.

“Ralph’s in a good mood today,” Lance grinned. “Better watch out, Jess.”

“He’s always in a good mood, you know that. Ralph comes by his nickname honest. Everything’s always okay with Okay!” Jessie joked, wrapping the four chili dogs and setting them on the counter. “Long ride to the slaughterhouse, you guys got four dogs, three bags of chips, coffee and soda. Is that a candy bar, Lance? How about a couple apples, too? We got those yellow ones in the back that you like. And there’s rice puddin’ in the cooler.”

“Denise packed us some healthy stuff, Jessie, but rice pudding sounds great.” Wyatt smiled again, just across the counter, now

She barely came up to his shoulders, and he looked too good in that worn t-shirt the hugged the knots of his big, broad shoulders.

Why was he always smiling? It made her tense.

“In the cooler around the corner, Wyatt,” she told him. “Lance, what kind of damage did you do out there at the pump? I gotta ring you up.”

“With Ralph’s gettin’ 1.89 a gallon, Jess, you’d never know they take it right outta the ocean just past Galveston, not 600 miles as the crow flies.”

“Ah, quit complainin’ and give me the number Lance. Fuel prices go up, that’s just what they do, you know that.”

“That’s the girl, Jess, don’t let ‘em give you grief.” Wyatt called from around the corner.

“$106.78,” Lance answered, turning to Wyatt with a grin. ”I’m not giving Jessie grief. Can’t get on the wrong side of Jessie, she’s holding the register keys.”

Jessie smiled at him. Lance and Mary were so good to her. 

The door jangled, and slight male figure wearing an orange track suit, Longhorns baseball cap and a green feather boa made his entrance.

“Geez, Teja, you didn’t let the pigs see you in that getup when you walked past our truck did you?” Lance teased.

“Did NOT Lance,” Teja sniffed. “I could NOT bear to let them see me. No, I could not. You’re going to kill those poor things, aren’t you?”

“The life of a pig, I guess,” Lance shrugged. “People gotta eat, and they like pork.”

“I should open that truck hasp and gave them the Texas Longhorn send-off they deserve, shouldn’t I?” Teja asked, batting his false eyelashes at Lance.

Jessie watched Lance take a long look at the white patent spike-heeled mules Teja wore, green pedicure matching the bright boa. “Holy Heck, those are some sandals, Teja. They aren’t by any chance size eight, are they?”

“They are,” Teja acknowledged primly.

“That’s Mary’s size. Can I buy them off your feet, take ‘em home to surprise her tonight?”

Jessie couldn’t tell whether Lance was teasing or serious.

They were fancy sandals.

Mary might like them.

“Must I dictate the fashion sense of this entire town?” Teja squealed, beaming with glee at Lance’s offer. “Must I give the very shoes from my feet so that others may share in my exquisite tastes?” His voice dropped an octave. Sotto, he said, “It’s almost September, Lance. Mary doesn’t want sandals. She’s likely thinking autumn, russets, tawny gold, wheat, heather blue. These sandals are white. Nobody wears white after Labor Day, Lance, it’s faux pas, so the effect of the gift, no matter how well intended, will be ruined...and, anyway, I’ll bet you can manage something bigger than a size 8 pair of sandals to surprise your wife with, can’t you, big boy?”

“Ah, she gets enough of that, she’d probably rather have the sandals,” Lance grinned, taking out a twenty and passing it to Teja. “Bring ‘em by her office. I’ll tell her you’ll deliver.”

Wyatt laid two containers of rice pudding and an ice cream bar on the counter, making eyes at Jessie, who grabbed spoons and napkins and rang up the sale.

“I will promise to keep her in mind, Lance, but, you must know, I have conditions!” Teja said, pocketing the twenty and flipping the ostrich boa another wrap around his neck, batting his eyelashes at Lance. “Mary will need pedicures if she is to wear these sandals the way they deserve to be worn. Can you send her to the shop on Wednesdays for the sandals AND a pedicure?”

Teja worked at Lucille’s beauty shop on Wednesday afternoons, washing hair, sweeping up and doing nails.

“I’ll see what I can do. Don’t send her home with green toes, though, okay?” Lance grinned, grabbing a bag from the counter.

“Thanks for the chili dogs, Jess,” Wyatt said, picking up the other bag. 

At the door, Cash wagged his tail. Lance turned the brim of Teja’s cap backwards as they walked past.

“No touching the merchandise!” Teja exclaimed.

“Safe trip, guys. Thanks for stopping,” Jessie called after them. “Wait, Wyatt, I’ve got a biscuit for Cash.” She tossed it down the aisle to him from the basket under the counter, and he snatched it from midair.

“Thanks, Jess.”

“Good boy, Cash,” she called.

“Double the price sandals at Christmas, Pig Killers!” Teja shouted after them, turning and pirouetted towards Jessie, eyes widening when he glanced in the tip jar at the ten-dollar bill Lance had left. “Oo my, isn’t Lance generous!” Teja said. “Maybe I will deliver the sandals for Mary, since he tips like that. What’s shakin’ at the Okay Corral, Jessie?”

“Oh, Saturday morning, Teja, you know...”

“I know. And home?”

“Same old, same old. Lalinda’s heading to a beauty pageant in Corpus Christi next weekend, you should go along, Teja.”

“Sister, I am there. I’m thinking we turn this place into a strip joint, liven things up around here? What do you think?”

“Regular ole scratch and sniff, huh?” Jessie grinned.

“I’m hungry. Can I have an egg sandwich?”

“Sure, ya got money?”

“I got talent. Tips are sparse down at Lucille’s, Jess, the economy’s in the toilet, but I think Lance is treating this morning, no?”

“I think he is, Teja, I think he is. I’m hungry, too, haven’t eaten yet. Go ask Okay what he wants, and I’ll make breakfast.”

Teja sashayed back into the garage, flicking his boa on his way through the door as Jessie turned the griddle up, and started cracking eggs. “What the HELL?” came Okay’s voice.

Teja was back quickly.

“Three eggs over, rye toast, four slices pork roll. That man has a terrible disposition.” Teja simpered, sighing, “He’s ruining his colon, eating food like this all day.”

“That’s not all he’s ruining, Teja. I wonder if my ears are gonna hold out til he gets that axle fixed.”

“Well, make him some breakfast, Jessie. He’ll stop banging while he eats.”

“The eggs are frying. Pick out what you want to drink and I’ll get you rung up before Ralph gets out here. Ralph’ll get pissed if he sees us eating up my college money.”

“O, darling. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will. Austin, here we come!” Teja answered, putting a drink bottle on the counter, wrapping the boa part way around Jessie’s neck. “It was damn hot last night, wasn’t it?”

“Stifling.” Jessie watched the egg whites turn solid on the hot grill, before flipping them.

“Unfortunately for Teja, the windmill at Esmerelda Goat Farm doesn’t power an AC unit to cool the straw bale hogan.”

“I thought adobe hogans were naturally cool in summer? I thought that was the point.”

“That’s what they sell them on. But, they lie, Jessie, they lie. Once it’s hot, it stays hot. Once it’s hot, it’s a freakin’ oven. I baked last night.”

“There’s AC in our trailer, Teja. Come over tonight if you want. Lalinda got a bunch of new videos from the Goodwill, she wants me to watch them with her. She said to ask you.”

“Shazam! Sounds like a plan. Is there any Donna Summer? Diana Ross? Cher? I wanna see that “Dreamgirls” flick soo bad. Oooo, Lalinda and I can go through her makeup! We can dress! We can dance! We can prepare for next weekend! I’ll bring some clothes over to your place, anyway. I’ve run out of closet space. I told Esmerelda, we simply must add on to the hogan, expand the place, but Esmerelda cares only for the goats. The goats, Jessie. She shows no sensitivity for my fashion needs. Do you believe she is planning a straw bale stable expansion for her goats next spring, but has no plans to create a dressing area for moi? Damn goats, what do they need to reproduce for?”

“The sole reason for the goats’ existence is to torture you, Teja, purely for torture. That is why they reproduce. They have a plot against you.”

“I know. You are right. They do torture me. Thankfully their skins can be sewn into coats and bags and slippers. Teja will have his revenge,” he hissed, face twisted in comical mania.

“Watch it, they’ll throw paint on you,” Jessie teased, flipping eggs and pulling the toast from the toaster.

“They spit on me when I have to milk them, Jessie. Spit. On. Me. That is enough humiliation for Teja, don’t you think?”

“Hide your goatskin purse, Teja. They might behave themselves if you show mercy rather than their dead kin.”

“Perhaps you have a point,” Teja conceded. After breakfast, Teja dusted the grocery shelves. “This Cinderella has a pumpkin to catch. Are you off at six tonight?”

“Sure thing. Linny loves her movies.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan. Au revoir, as they say on the continent!”

Thursday, September 9, 2004, 2:20 PM~Hobble Creek Consolidated High School, Hobble Creek, TX

Jessie had worked through the end of August, twelve days straight counting Labor Day. The first day of her senior year, Ms. Hortense cornered her outside the main office. In tiny black framed librarian glasses, coral pink lipstick, and a tight, short, lemon yellow dress, Ms. Hortense was one of Jessie’s favorite adults.

“Let’s talk college, Jessie!”

Ms. Hortense’s office, in the new part of the building, had sunny windows looking out over the football field.  “Okay, so you’ve identified UT Austin, and UT San Antonio as your main options, with Corpus Christi Community College as your safe school. Your SAT scores are great, and I’m very proud of the perfect score on your pre-calc final last year and so is Mr. Rodriguez; it’s a school record. I think you’ve got an excellent chance at a full scholarship at UT and you’re still in the running for valedictorian, but please don’t mention it to Ivan Petraskie. His parents are not satisfied with “just” a football scholarship, and we don’t want him tackling you in the hallways. You’ll keep your grades up this year?”

“Ah, uh-huh. Yup. Plan to.”

“Great, can you get some help with your English Lit essays?”

“I can try.”

Ms. Hortense sighed. “Mrs. Oskanzo is a tough grader. Stacia Smith’s parents took the Oskanzo’s to dinner twice this summer, selling Stacia for the literature award, no doubt, but you didn’t hear it from me. Work those essays, Jessie, work them. You need to work on a personal essay for college applications, right?

Jessie nodded.

“Here’s a list of the documents we’ll need to fill out financial aid forms. Take these to your mom, have her give me a call?”

Jessie gave Ms. Hortense a blank stare, then said, quietly, “We don’t have a phone, Ms. Hortense, but I did our taxes last year. These papers are around somewhere. I’m sure she’ll sign whatever I need.”

“Super. We’ll meet up next week, Jessie, same time. I’m counting on you. This is it, this is senior year. Make me proud,” she smiled.

“Got it.” Jessie smiled back.

Ms. Hortense lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll come see me if anythings troubling you?”

“Yup.”

Ms. Hortense stood up from her desk, walking her out. “Jessie, wait, one more thing. Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“Nope, I’m not dating anyone.”

“Jessie, um, if you decide to become sexually active, you’ll use protection, won’t you?”

“I’m not getting pregnant, Ms. Hortense, no way. I’m going to college, don’t worry, then law school.”

“Good girl, Jessie. We lose too many bright girls with this abstinence-only stuff. You’ve got a ton of potential. I’ll do anything I can to help you on your way, you know that.”

“Bye, Ms. Hortense. Thanks.”

****

After work at Okay’s, Jess slid into the bucket seat of Mary’s red Jeep Cherokee, twisting the dials to tune in their favorite oldies country radio station, and they sung along to Waylon Jennings and Patsy Cline on their way to Mockingbird Ranch.

“Hey, Neesie!” Jessie called, carrying the groceries Mary had sent. The main house was sprawling, white stucco, with a weathered grey pine kitchen off the back.

Denise came out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Good to see you, Jessie, girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Stayin’ for dinner? Judge is up to San Antonio. I made a roast, and Mary and Lance are coming. There’s plenty.”

“I haven’t had a home cooked meal like you make since I was here last. I’d love to stay.” Jessie handed Denise the paper sack, and Denise gave Jessie a big hug, held her close.

“How’s school?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Ralph behaving himself?” Okay was Denise’s son.