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Authors: Kix Brooks,Ronnie Dunn,Bill Fitzhugh

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The Adventures of Slim & Howdy (10 page)

BOOK: The Adventures of Slim & Howdy
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23

ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF DEL RIO, HOWDY NOTICED THEY WERE
low on gas, so he pulled into the Truck ’n’ Go Quicky Stop. An oasis for the long-haul driver. Self-serve gas pumps in front, diesel pumps out back that came with full service, if you asked for it over the phone that was right there on the pole. The full-service attendants came in the form of some hardworking girls willing and able to do whatever to the truck you wanted. At a price, of course.

The Truck ’n’ Go Quicky Stop even offered rooms with beds and showers by the hour. The convenience store inside had everything a trucker might need from toiletries and pharmaceuticals to cell phones and GPS systems, from fried chicken to chicken-fried steak. They even had a full aisle of the latest CDs and DVDs. Business was good.

After fueling up and scraping some bugs off the windshield, Slim and Howdy headed into town on the main drag, past greasy auto-repair places, rundown motels, check-cashing joints, and liquor stores. Howdy noticed an old mom-and-pop hardware store that was boarded up with plywood that he figured came from one of the nationally recognized home-improvement stores that had put mom and pop out of business in the first place.

Even under bright blue skies and sunshine, Del Rio wouldn’t exactly stir the soul and fill its tank with hope. It was a dusty place, flat and struggling for air, hoping for the best against all odds. Like somebody had started with an idea for a nice town near that river with the grand name, then wandered off or died of ennui before they’d added any of the fine touches they had in mind.

Arriving under ominous gray skies, as Slim and Howdy were, the only thing to lift their spirits was the knowledge that they wouldn’t be unemployed for at least two weeks. And that counted for something, ask any musician.

This being Howdy’s first trip to Del Rio, and having arrived with higher expectations, he looked over at Slim and said, “I thought you said this was a paradise.”

“I said a loaded pair of dice,” Slim replied. “But I’ll tell you what, you won’t find a better enchilada anywhere.”

Howdy figured that was reason enough to keep going. He drove on, past the fancy new shopping center anchored by the Dollar Tree, then over the tracks of the old Southern Pacific railroad where, off to the left, they saw a small, free-standing building, hard to miss with all the neon green and orange paint. The exterior walls were billboards of cartoon scorpions, tarantulas, cobras, and rattlesnakes, like some roadside reptile attraction that had escaped from Florida in the sixties and settled in Del Rio in a successful bid to avoid all the tourists. The crude hand-painted sign over the door read, “Rattlesnake Jake’s—Exotic Pets.”

A few miles later, near the far end of town, Howdy waved a hand at the great expanse of scrub surrounding them and said, “Did we miss it?”

“Keep going,” Slim said, pointing ahead. “It’s up there on the left.”

And sure enough it was. A fine-looking old building, with solid timber beams, over a hundred years old, jutting from the exterior walls at the top like something from the days—and maybe even the architect—of the Alamo. Nothing fancy, mind you, but kept up and cared for as if by people with a sense of history, people who knew the value of the past and the importance of preservation. Over the decades, the building, which was surrounded on three sides by a plank boardwalk, had been a trading post, a general store, and even the headquarters of the San Felipe Agricultural, Manufacturing, and Irrigation Company. It had character and strength and, in its only exterior nod to modernity, neon beer signs in the window as tastefully as can be done. The building’s façade arched smoothly upward in the center where the main crossbeam jutted out above all the others and pointed toward Mexico. In the space created by the arch, painted in bold script with drop shadows, were the words

Lost and Found

The parking lot was dust and gravel and empty for the most part when Slim and Howdy pulled in, just a couple of cars and trucks here and there. It was Monday and early enough that most folks were just finishing their day jobs.

“Nice place,” Howdy said. “Looks like it could hold a crowd.”

“Six or seven hundred I think,” Slim replied. “Gets pretty lively on the weekends.”

The dust hadn’t settled from them pulling into the parking lot before some movement caught their eyes. A man roughly the size and shape of a buffalo was backing slowly out the building’s side door, his hands raised in the air. His head was shaved and he had a gold ring through his nose. And though he was too far away for Slim and Howdy to make out any details, he seemed to have something shiny, stainless steely, riding the crest of his bald head from between the eyes to the first vertebra of his spine, like a metallic Mohawk, or an unusual zipper.

“Well now, that’s something you don’t see every day,” was Howdy’s observation.

“True.” Slim nodded.

Howdy squinted at the bald guy, trying to bring his head into focus. “What the hell is that?”

“Looks like a bunch of silver studs or something.” Slim was right. They were piercings, fifteen of them, looked like stainless-steel bolts holding an empty skull shut.

“Damn,” Howdy said. “I think you’re right.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You know, every time I see something like that, it makes me wonder if everybody’s nervous system is hooked up the same way.”

Slim nodded again, then looked at the dark skies promising a thunderstorm. “I wonder if those things draw lightning.”

As the bald guy continued backing out of the Lost and Found, he yelled, “You don’t know what the hale you’re talkin’ ’bout,” in an accent that sounded a lot more East Alabama than West Texas.

The next thing Slim and Howdy saw coming out that side door was the barrel of a blue steel .38 in the slender hand of the striking woman who followed soon thereafter.

Jodie Lee was already on the tall side, but with her hat and boots, she shot well past six feet. She wore an embroidered-eagle-design western shirt with front snap pockets and off-the-shelf jeans that fit like they were custom-tailored to every part she had. She was sporting a tribe’s worth of turquoise and silver jewelry around her waist, wrists, and her graceful neck. Falling from under the hat was a silky ponytail, prematurely gray, that rested between her shoulder blades.

Jodie gave the impression of being handy with a gun as she wagged the .38 at the back end of a pickup with a hard-shell cover. “Open it up and let’s see,” she said.

The big bald guy glared at her, said, “I ain’t gotta prove nothin’ to you.” He spit in the dirt in a desperate show of machismo.

Jodie pulled the hammer back on the .38, in a show of superior firepower. “Well, it’s me or the cops,” she said. “Up to you.”

Slim nudged Howdy. “You think we ought to help?”

“Him or her?”

“I was thinking of Jodie,” Slim said.

“Doesn’t look like she needs any.”

The bald guy finally opened the back of his truck, revealing several cases of whiskey and beer. “That shit’s mine,” he insisted. “And you can’t prove otherwise.” He was about to slam the top down when Jodie fired a shot, kicking up some rocks near the guy’s feet. He jumped to one side and said, “The hell’s wrong with you, bitch, you crazy?”

“A,” she said. “Watch your mouth. B. Let’s see the bottom of the boxes.” She cocked the hammer again.

He tilted one of the boxes back and showed the L&F written in bold black marker on the bottom, the way she did all her stock when it came in.

Jodie smiled. “Well, they once were
lost
but now they’re
found,
” she said in mock revelation. “Put ’em up here on the porch.” She tapped the place she meant with the silver toe of her boot, then backed up a step to make room. After the guy did what he was told, he slammed the hard shell down and said, “You just made a big mistake, honey. You don’t know who you’re screwin’ with.” He stormed to the cab of the truck and jerked the door open.

“By the way,” Jodie said. “You go tearing outta here kicking up rocks, trying to pop me or one of my windows, this weapon is likely to discharge by accident in your general direction. And you’d be surprised at how accurate that can be.” She smiled, but not in a real friendly way. “So you better just ease on out and be sure you don’t come back.”

The guy mumbled something of the un-Christian variety, got in his truck, and pulled away without raising so much as a speck of dust.

24

JODIE EASED THE HAMMER DOWN ON HER .38 AND TUCKED IT
in her waist just as the rain started coming down. She was stooped over to pick up one of the cases of whiskey when she heard boots on the boardwalk coming her way. Her hand went back to the gun’s grip as she stood up to face whoever it was.

“Allow us, ma’am,” Howdy said with a friendly smile and his hands halfway raised.

Jodie looked at the two men curiously. She hadn’t seen Howdy in at least two years. Though she’d seen Slim more recently than that, she’d never seen him in the company of anybody else, let alone somebody she knew in the context of her old club in Oklahoma, so it took her a moment to put it all together. When she realized who they were and why they were there, she pointed at their truck and said, “How long you two been sitting out there?”

“Few minutes,” Slim said, bending over to grab one of the boxes.

She tucked the gun back in her waist. “Fine couple of gentlemen you are,” she said, yanking their chains. “Didn’t you see I was involved in a potentially deadly confrontation with a hardened criminal?”

“Why do you think we stayed in the truck?” Howdy picked up a case of whiskey, then went all hayseed on her. “I mean, heck, we’re just a couple of harmless ole gi-tar pickers.”

She shook her head. “You mean to tell me you’re still not carrying a gun, even after what happened in Lawton?”

“He had one for a minute back in Beaumont,” Slim said, somewhat accusingly. “But he threw it away.”

“Threw it away?”

Slim nodded like he agreed it was a dumb thing to do. Then he looked at Howdy with a curious smile. “What happened in Lawton?”

“Long story,” Howdy said, trying to get everybody past it.

Jodie shook her head. “It’s not that long.” She turned to Slim, confiding, “See, your buddy here was—”

“I vote we save story time for later,” Howdy interrupted. He gestured at Jodie the best he could with the case of whiskey in his hands. “Besides, if you’ll recall, owning a gun wouldn’t have done me much good at the time.”

“I guess you have a point,” she said. “They do you more good if you actually have them at hand when you need ’em.” She turned back to Slim and said, “He was nekkid as a scraped hog at the time and both his hands were occupied with . . . what was her name? Mrs. uh . . . ?”

“She told me she was divorced,” Howdy said.

“She said her husband was in Canada for the month.”

“What’s the difference? The point is . . .” Howdy paused. “Shouldn’t we get out of the rain?”

“Fine,” Jodie said with a smirk they’d both seen before. “I understand. We’ll change the subject if you want.” She folded her arms, looked at Howdy, and said, “So exactly when, where, and why the hell did you throw away a gun?”

“Well, now that’s actually a pretty good story,” Howdy said. “See, Slim here had managed to get himself into a tight spot with this fella in Beaumont who was wavin’ a knife that was about yea big.” He held his hands about two feet apart. “So, there I was, in the kitchen—”

“I thought we voted to move story time to later,” Slim said, nudging Jodie with a box. “Where you want these?”

“Inside,” she said, leading them back into the storeroom. “Just set ’em on that table.”

After they got all the boxes in from the rain, Howdy stood there looking at Jodie for a moment. She was the same strong, beautiful woman he remembered. But changed at the same time, burdened as she was by the sadness that came with being the one left to carry on without the love that had been her reason for living. Somehow, this just added to her beauty.

“Listen,” Howdy said, softly. “I was sure sorry to hear about Frank.” He stepped closer and pulled her in for a tender hug. After a moment, he eased back but kept his hands on her arms while looking in her eyes. “I didn’t know till the other day when Skeets told me. I didn’t even know he was sick.” He shook his head, offering a sad smile. “I wish I’d heard before. I would have liked to come to the service. And you know I’da been there if I’d known.”

“I know you would’ve.”

“He was a good man.”

Jodie cupped a hand on Howdy’s cheek, her pale blue eyes taking in all the features of his face. “He sure was,” she said, giving him a little pat. “Thanks, hun. That’s sweet of you to say.” She took a deep breath, said, “It was hard to let him go, but . . . what’re you gonna do if the Lord decides to take him?”

Howdy nodded. “Only one thing
to
do,” he said. “Either quit or keep on keeping on.”

“Exactly right.” Jodie smiled and held her arms out wide. “So welcome to keeping on at the Lost and Found.”

25

A FEW MINUTES LATER THEY WERE SITTING IN JODIE’S
office, shooting the breeze, listening to the rain come down. Jodie looked toward the ceiling and said, “Keeps up like this, it’s gonna be a slow night.” She had her boots propped on her desk, a cup of coffee steaming in front of her.

Howdy had made himself comfortable in a niche carved out of some of the boxes, his butt planted on a case of bourbon, arm resting on a case of beer. Slim was leaned back in a chair touching the wall behind him, his long legs helping him keep his balance.

Jodie tipped her cup toward Slim, said, “Hey, did you ever get your guitar back from Boone Tate?”

Slim and Howdy looked at each other and busted up laughing. Then Slim said, “Yeah, I got it back.”

“That Brushfire’s a nasty piece of work,” Howdy said. “And I say that based on knowing him all of about five minutes.”

“You’re a good judge of character,” Jodie said. “Boone Tate was born nasty. And after that fire, he just got nastier. Of course the liquor doesn’t help.”

“Doesn’t seem to hurt his ability to hold a grudge though,” Slim said. “He still seems to think he owes me for that business at Diablo’s Cantina that night.”

“Still?” Jodie shook her head. “That’s not holding a grudge,” she said. “That’s clutching it to your breast and nursing it to maturity.”

“What happened at Diablo’s Cantina?” Howdy asked.

Jodie and Slim exchanged a look. “Nothing,” Slim said. “Nothing worth telling, anyway.“

Howdy shrugged it off, figured he’d get the answer later.

Jodie said, “So what happened with ole Brushfire?”

Slim and Howdy took turns telling her the story about the hedge clippers, the knife, the gun, and their wild night with Tammy and Crystal.

When they finished, Jodie said, “Well, I can see how two men might bond after an ordeal such as that. Skeets told me he wasn’t sure how you two had gotten partnered up. I guess that’s as good a way as any to do it.”

“Well, now, I wouldn’t say we’re partnered up,” Howdy said, as if a partnership with Slim or anybody else was the sort of idea he was unlikely to entertain. He was a solo act, a lone wolf, a solitary man. He thought about adding that particular Neil Diamond song to his repertoire.

“Yeah, we’re just travelin’ together,” Slim added with a shrug. “Circumstances dictating the way they sometimes do.”

“Uh-huh,” Jodie said, understanding how circumstances will do that. She kept her eyes on Slim and said, “What about Caroline? Where’d circumstances take her? I mean if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Howdy said. “Who’s this Caroline?”

“She was one of my best waitresses,” Jodie said. “When I first came back to Del Rio.”

“Well, well, well,” Howdy said. “The plot thickens.”

Slim casually waved a hand, like he was shooing a fly. “She was last seen headed east,” he said with a shrug that was intended to give the impression he didn’t care one way or another what happened to her. But he was unconvincing.

The poor performance perked Howdy right up. He slapped his hand on the case of beer and said, “Wait a minute. Is Caroline the girl you stole from Brushfire Boone? The one you said you’d gladly trade back for the Martin?”

Jodie smiled, looked at Howdy. “Did he say that?”

“He did,” Howdy said, nodding. “Something about her not being real big on leaving a forwarding address.”

“Well, he didn’t mean it,” Jodie replied. “That was just the hurt talkin’, wasn’t it, honey?” She did enjoy yanking a man’s chain.

Slim held his legs straight out, tipping the balance until his chair listed forward and his boots hit the floor. He acted like he was going to stand up and leave. Take his ball and go home. He said, “You girls want to gossip about my love life, I think I’ll go see a man about a horse or something.”

“Oh, sit down,” Jodie said. “We’re just having fun.”

“Yeah,” Howdy added. “If it makes you feel any better, I had one just like that, name of Marilyn Justine.” He smacked his lips and got a fond look on his face. “Made the best margaritas . . .”

Jodie said, “Did you get the recipe?”

“Nope. Girl didn’t leave me so much as a good-bye on a sticky note.”

“Ohhh, Howdy, that is so sad.” Jodie rubbed an index finger back and forth over the top of her thumb, playing that little violin part to accompany his pitiful little story. “Still, you two will always have your night with Candy and Wanda.”

“Crystal and Tammy,” Slim said.

Jodie rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Howdy gave her a wink and said, “Hey listen, I’m curious about earlier.” He gestured out toward the parking lot. “Exactly who was that guy with the, uh, with the scalp situation?” He pointed at the top of his hat.

“Oh, that was Link,” Jodie said.

“Link?” Howdy cocked his head at the name. “Like the sausage?”

“More like the thing that’s missing between us and cavemen,” Jodie said.

Slim leaned back in his chair again and said, “See now, I don’t normally like to judge a book by its cover, but . . . he didn’t exactly look like the brightest bulb in the marquee. The biggest, maybe, but not the brightest.”

“That much is true,” Jodie said, touching her finger to the side of her nose. “The boy has a bad case of the simples.”

“I don’t think he was here last time I was,” Slim said. “He’s the type I would’ve remembered.”

Jodie shook her head. “No, he showed up a few weeks after your last gig,” she said. “You remember Big John?”

Slim nodded, held his hand out kind of low to the ground. “Little guy, talked kinda funny?”

“That’s him,” Jodie said. “Well, he quit on me, moved up to Portland after some girl.”

“The kind who leaves a forwarding address, obviously,” Howdy said.

Slim held up the middle finger on his left hand and tilted it toward Howdy.

Jodie said, “So I needed somebody working the door, taking cover charge, counting heads, bouncing, all that. That’s when Link showed up, looking for work. He was big and scary with those damn things in his head, especially the way it pinches that ridge of scalp along the crown. So it seemed like a good fit.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “First couple of weeks he was fine. After that he started stealing everything that wasn’t too hot or too heavy to tote. He set about robbing me blind without wasting a bit of gas trying to be slick about it.” Jodie counted things off on her fingers. “The take at the door dropped off, cases of stuff started walking out the back, sound equipment started to disappear.” Jodie shook her head. “So I got some cameras installed. Only took two days to get enough video to forestall any legal proceedings he might consider for me firing him without notice.”

“So that was the business in the parking lot?”

“That was his termination interview,” Jodie said. “Sometimes it’s hard being the boss.”

“It’s a tough job, all right,” Howdy said. “But I think not shooting him was a pretty generous severance package.”

“My thought exactly,” Jodie said. “Only big surprise is how ungrateful the son of a bitch seemed. Still, it’s good news for the two of you.”

“How so?”

“Now you’ll both have jobs every night if you want. One of you playing, one of you on the door. Whaddya say?”

Slim and Howdy exchanged a quick glance and a nod. “Fair enough,” Slim said.

“Deal!” Jodie slapped the desktop and opened a drawer. She pulled out another pistol and slid it in Howdy’s direction. “So, let me ask you,” she said. “Prior to throwing that gun away back in Beaumont, jew get a chance to find out if you’re any good with it?”

Before Howdy could open his mouth, Slim pointed at Jodie and said, “I tell you what, we’ll all be plenty safe if any major appliances come in here trying to cause trouble.”

BOOK: The Adventures of Slim & Howdy
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