When the Women Come Out to Dance Page 17

  He said, "You're not married, are you?"

  "Would it matter?"

  "Not now."

  She touched his hair. "Where's your cowboy hat?"

  "I'm not a cowboy anymore."

  "I still have a picture of you I cut out of the paper, riding a bull."

  He said, "You want to know something?"

  "What?"

  He hesitated, but had to say it because it was the reason he was here.

  "I think about you all the time."

  She said, "Aw, Ben," in a soft way, touching his face, kissing him. Soon they were kissing each other without making a sound as they settled in.

  They got cans of beer from the kitchen and took them into the library where they used to kiss and foo l around sometimes, but without ever getting too close to doing it. She said, "I guess it's not a sin anymore."

  "You remember that?"

  "I'd say, 'Why don't we see what it's like.' "

  "You already knew."

  "Yeah, but not with you and I had to find out. But I wasn't jumping in the sack with everybody. You know how man y guys I did it with? Two." She paused. "Actually three whil e we were in school and I'm Denise the piece? You must'v e wanted to."

  "Sure I did."

  She said, "I was absolutely insane over you," and stopped for a moment, looking at him next to her on the cracke d leather sofa, her dark hair and part of her face in lamplight.

  "You're not married, are you?"

  He said, "Almost, once," and saw Kim on the beach at Point Dume, what seemed now years ago.

  "Why didn't you?"

  "I thought I wanted to--"

  "But you weren't sure. I wasn't sure, either," Denise said, "when I married Wayne Hostetter, the second-biggest mistake of my life, but it was a chance to get out of town."

  Saving Ben from having to talk about Kim, what happened to her, and what he felt now about ever getting married o r even serious with a woman, because they didn't have to b e married to have something awful happen to whoever sh e might be. He wasn't convinced that it would, no, but here i t was on his mind while Denise was telling him about th e country artist, Wayne Hostetter and the Wranglers in thei r cowboy hats. "I called them Wayne and his Wanglers.

  He's the only guy I ever heard of puts lifts in his cowboy boots."

  "He was your second-biggest mistake," Ben said. "What was your first?"

  She said marrying Arthur Allen, an investment banker, the most boring man she'd ever met. "He played golf every afternoon and talked about it all night. It's what golfers do."

  "Why didn't you play?"

  "It's boring. I saw every movie you were in."

  "Space Sluts in the Slammer Two?"

  "I missed that one."

  "I was killed by a space slut. How'd you know about the movies?"

  "My cleaning lady."

  "Right, Ophelia. Preston told me." He said, "You were interested, huh?"

  Denise stared at him. She said, "You big lug, don't you know it's been you all the time? What's that from?"

  "A lot of old movies, not any I was in."

  She kept staring, not just looking, studying him. She said, "You're a stuntman. That's pretty cool. Do you want to act?"

  "I don't think so."

  "Stay here and grow nuts? Grow, not go, but you can do both."

  "I want to get the place in shape, hire a family to work it and take care of Lydell. I'm thinking of the Raincrows, mak e Preston the working partner. I thought of that driving ove r here."

  There was a silence and Denise said, "I have a confession to make."

  Ben had told her, while they put their clothes back on and went out to the kitchen, the situation with the Grooms.

  Forty-eight hours to get out, and he didn't think they'd budge.

  "I know those people," Denise said. "I wrote the lease."

  "That's your confession? If you hadn't," Ben said, "I doubt we'd be sitting here. Look at it that way."

  "But now Hazen says he wants to buy your place, and he's using me to get you two together. You know he's a criminal , or was?"

  "I think still," Ben said, "the whole family. Preston looked them up."

  "Hazen wants to kill you, doesn't he?" her voice quiet as she said it.

  "Any one of them," Ben said. "And if they do and you know about it and can put them away for life . . ."

  Ben watched her cross her legs as she thought about it and reach over to pick up her can of beer from the coffee table.

  Now she was looking at him again.

  "I've been ready for Hazen since the first time I met him.

  He comes here with intentions of doing us harm I'll shoot him. My dad gave me a gun a long time ago, and I'm license d to carry it. But you know what? You better move your ca r from the drive. Park it in town somewhere."

  "It won't be here," Ben said. "I'm meeting Preston later on.

  He's looking into the Grooms, see if he can find out, as he says, what kind of criminal enterprise they're in. I always lik e talking to Preston."

  "So you can stay a while?"

  "I'm not in any hurry."

  "Tell me some Hollywood stuff."

  "Jack Nicholson always carries an ashtray in his pocket."

  "What about--like I heard some stars actually do it in their love scenes?"

  "I wouldn't be surprised, but I've never been needed on that kind of set. What else you want to know?"

  "Ben, have you really been thinking about me?"

  V.

  Preston Raincrow got home and threw a football around with his two boys, went in the house and kisse d Ophelia and his little girl, smelled what was cooking an d poured himself two ounces of Jim Beam. He sipped on th e drink thinking of Avery Grooms and his two white tras h boys, thinking if Avery was picked up on the detainer an d held for Arkansas, it could cause his boys to act stupid an d become nasty and they could be picked up, too. Preston ha d one more drink for the pleasure of it--he didn't nee d courage--and phoned the young sheriff of Okmulge e County, a reasonable-enough Caucasian boy Preston ha d played football with this time, and told about the detainer.

  "Avery Grooms, done most of ninety months, come out and must've blew his parole." He said, "You know the Webste r place. That's where he's at." Preston suggested the youn g sheriff bring some backup along, the man had his two son s with him and they weren't likely to sit still, watch their ol d dad taken away cuffed. He listened and said, "Anytime. I'm always glad to help you out."

  The Raincrows were finishing their supper when the phone rang. Preston listened to the young sheriff say it was on fo r tonight and he could come if he wanted. Preston sat at th e table again and ate the rest of his rice pudding before callin g Eddie Chocote.

  Hazen put aside the early part of the evening to check motels, see where a Ben Webster was registered , came to the Shawnee Inn and the desk clerk said, "Yes sir, h e sure is," but wouldn't give up the room number till Haze n flashed a federal badge and ID he'd bought in Biloxi, Mississippi, and used from time to time and was told, "Room twotwenty, overlooking the patio and the swimming pool." The clerk wanted to know if Mr. Webster was in some kind o f trouble and was told, "He sure is, partner."

  Hazen returned to his favorite bar, the dark, smoky one at the Best Western, and drank Margaritas while he though t about what to do with Denise. If she'd have come across onc e or twice he'd feel better about her. As cold sexu'lly as th e woman was he believed he could set her afire and bring her t o her . . . get her to come. Hazen thinking now that if Brothe r took care of the movie star that'd be out of the way and he'd have had nothing to do with it. He could stay around and tak e his time with the real estate lady. If it ever came to putting a pistol on her, like a last resort . . . Hell, he didn't even kno w where he'd aim.

  His cell phone made its noise. It was Brother trying to keep his voice low. "They come and put handcuffs on Daddy , saying he's going back to Arkansas."

  The Margaritas worked to Hazen's favor, allowing him to believe he
was cool. He asked Brother, "You say anything stupid to 'em?"

  "They want to know who I was, see my driver's license. Asked could they look around. Daddy told 'em they could g o fuck theirselves."

  Hazen said, "Shit." That kind of talk could bring 'em back with warrants. "They still there?"

  "Yeah, they's still here. Jesus Christ, you coming?"

  "A bunch of 'em?"

  "Three Crown Vics, 'Sheriff' on the doors big. A Taurus with 'Muskogee Nation Lighthorseman' on it. They got thei r headlight beams on the house, lightnin' it up. The deputie s are wearing vests and carrying shotguns, like they expect we's armed. Daddy's saying, 'I never detained nobody. The hell yo u talking about.' '

  "Don't even know he's wanted. Been for five years."

  "Hazen, you coming?"

  "For what, kiss him goodbye?"

  "They's putting him in the car, pushing his head inside.

  You don't get over here they gonna be gone."

  Hazen said, "I got no business with those people. Soon as they leave, come on meet me here at the bar. I found ou t where Mr. Webster's staying."

  It quieted Brother. He said, "Yeah?" interested.

  "They come with warrants, we don't want to be anywhere near the place. But I don't want to leave till you take care o f Mr. Webster."

  "Why you saying me?"

  "You're the one has the score to settle. Look at your goddamn nose. Do what Daddy said, shoot him in the head."

  "What're you gonna do?"

  "Don't fuck up and I won't have to do nothing."

  Preston was with Eddie Chocote, the Lighthorseman, the last one out, trailing the taillights of th e sheriff's cars but not all the way. Eddie killed his lights an d turned from the farm road into the grove of pecan trees, creeping now in the dark, not too far. . . . "Right here," Preston said. Next thing, turn the car around and watch for headlights: going out would be Brother, coming in, most likely Hazen. The plan: if Brother leaves, Eddie follows him to se e where he goes. Preston would stay here and look in the barns.

  Maybe even the house.

  Eddie said, "Looking for what?"

  "I don't know--whatever I find."

  Eddie said, "You have your sidearm?"

  Preston, getting out of the car, said, "I don't need it. I gave it to Ben."

  Driving back to the Shawnee Inn he didn't think of the Grooms once. It was all Denise, her scent on him , her asking, "Do you really think about me?" And telling he r almost every day.

  But not saying it was with a longing, or even understanding why her face kept showing up in his mind, until he saw her again. He was in love with her was the reason. Had alway s been in love with her except . . . Carl was the problem bac k then, Carl and Jesus, Carl getting him bummed about goin g to Hell, while Denise's idea was to "experience life" and sh e dared him to do things with her. Like buying weed in th e black section of Okmulgee, Denise asking the young guy s about their life and listening to stories about dope house busts and guys getting shot, Denise natural, standing there in he r miniskirt, but not putting on any kind of airs, and they wer e nice to her. She talked him into leaving college to get hi s rodeo ticket, and by that time they weren't even seeing muc h of each other.

  She had been way ahead of him back then and now he'd caught up. When they were still on the floor, settling in, an d for a while they were quiet, he said to her, "Denise . . . 'You'r e the reason God made Oklahoma.' "

  She looked at him and without changing her expression said, " 'There's a full moon over Tulsa, I hope it's shinin g on you.' "

  Ben said, " 'In Cherokee County there's a blue norther passin through.' "

  Denise said, "Boy, have I missed you."

  "I'm surprised you know that one."

  "Wayne covered it with some girl, but their cut didn't compare to David Frizzell and Shelly West."

  "That song'd come on," Ben said, "and if I wasn't thinking of you already I would then."

  In the library, on their second beer, she said, "Now that you're a grown man, how many girls have you slept with i n your life?"

  He began thinking about it, looking for faces.

  She said, "You're counting?"

  "You asked how many."

  "I meant in round numbers."

  "About ten."

  "In over twenty years?"

  "Wait. Fourteen."

  "What'd you have, four at one time?"

  "In one afternoon, at a whorehouse in San Francisco. With some rodeo buddies."

  "I bet that was a party. Four times isn't bad."

  "Average for a bull rider."

  "How about some who weren't hookers?"

  "Yeah, about ten. I spent time with a girl when I first went out to the Coast and . . . a couple years with a girl one othe r time."

  "You were in love."

  "To some extent. The one, we talked about getting married 'cause she wanted to have a child--even though in Hollywoo d you don't have to be married." He wasn't going to ask Denis e how many men she'd slept with, but thought of somethin g close to it and said, "You ever cheat on your husbands?"

  She took her time, close to each other on the couch, and put her hand on his thigh. She said, "I gave you the wron g idea. Really, the only reason I asked--I've imagined rode o bunnies and starlets coming at you in packs."

  "Packs?"

  "Droves. I thought you'd say, modestly, 'Oh, only a few hundred,' and it could be true. I didn't bring it up to compar e notes with you. I was never Denise the piece and I don't slee p around. You want to know if I ever cheated on those tw o jerks? I did once. When I was married to Arthur, bored out o f my mind."

  "And a little horny."

  "Probably. I could've had a shot at the club tennis pro, but I didn't."

  "Who was the guy?" "The UPS man. Arthur goes, 'You're doing what seems t o me an inordinate amount of ordering from catalogues lately.'

  Swear to God. The UPS guy was funny and kinda cute, but it was recreational, no way it would come to anything." Sh e shrugged and looked at her hand on his leg.

  Ben said, "You think you'll marry again sometime?"

  She looked up at him, her smart eyes holding his, looked away and nodded a couple of times like she was thinkin g about it and came back to him.

  "Let's say I'm madly in love."

  "Yeah . . . ?"

  "And he's the kind of guy isn't afraid to ride a twothousand-pound pissed-off animal with horns."

  Ben said, "I doubt he'd step up on one today."

  Denise said, "It wouldn't matter." She said, "Ben, I'll marry you first thing in the morning if you'll spend the night."

  And he said--

  He turned off the interstate to pull up in front of the Shawnee Inn.

  He didn't know what to say and she told him not to say anything if he didn't want to. She said, "I'm not putting yo u on the spot, I'm telling you how I feel."

  That was when he said, "But it's like we just met," and she started shaking her head, smiling at him.

  Ben went up the stairway and along the hall toward his room. He saw the guy at the end of the hall by th e Coke machine, a big guy looking this way, about to pu t money in the machine, but now was coming toward Ben in a hurry--Brother in his cowboy hat--running, pulling a gun, a revolver, from under his jacket. Ben got to 220, shoved th e card in the lock slot and a goddamn red light came on, shove d the card in again and now the green light showed and th e door opened as Brother reached him. All Ben had time to d o was step and jab a left hand hard into the nose with adhesiv e tape on it, stopping Brother long enough for Ben to get in th e room and this time hit Brother in the face with the door as h e tried to swing it closed and heard Brother yell out as he stumbled back, Ben already crossing to the balcony, sliding open the glass and now was looking down at the pool about twent y feet from the building, no lights showing, Ben not knowin g how deep the water was. He heard the door to the hall ban g open and pressed himself against the stonework framing th e balcony, felt handholds between the stones, and ho
isted himself to the tarred gravel roof, rolling onto it as Brother reached the balcony.

  Ben looked around. There was no door to a stairs going down, only metal shapes housing the air-conditioning, n o place to hide. He could stay up here if Brother was afraid t o climb the stonework. But if Hazen was around--he couldn't be too far.

  Ben got down flat on the roof, put his eyes over the edge and there was Brother with his gun raised, pointing straigh t up at Ben and firing in the night as Ben rolled away from th e edge and crawled back a few yards before getting to his feet.

  He'd have to run and dive for the pool--the way he dove off the roof of a motel when they were filming at Angola, th e Louisiana State Prison, did it on a bet and caught hell fro m the stunt coordinator. "You want to lose your SAG card, asshole?" Hell no, it was worth $636 a day whether he worked a stunt or not. He remembered now the trouble he had at Denise's trying to get his new boots off in a hurry. He'd hav e to leave them on--goddamn cowboy boots when he ought t o be wearing high-top sneakers.

  Brother surprised him.

  Ben started for the edge--four strides and dive out as far as he could--and Brother's cowboy hat and shoulders appeare d above the roof edge, arms clinging tight to the tarred gravel , Brother trying to raise the gun and hold on at the same time.

  The gun fired in the moment Ben reached Brother to kick him in the face: Brother going back, falling, Ben pressing t o keep his balance and then lunging out at the dark, Brothe r missing the balcony but not the concrete floor of the patio, a s Ben landed flat in the water in his wool shirt and his windbreaker and began swimming to the side of the pool, till he found out he could walk.

  Denise opened the door. Ben gave her time to look at him wringing wet and say whatever she wanted.

  She said, "You change your mind?"

  VI.

  The first thing Ben did, dripping on the kitchen floor, was call Preston. Ophelia said, "Hey, Ben, love you r movies,'' and they talked a while. Preston wasn't home bu t she'd have him phone.

  Denise helped him take his clothes off and put them in the dryer--shirt, jacket, socks, everything but his boots--poure d a couple of vodkas, and they stood in the kitchen, Ben in a terry-cloth robe stretched tight on him, while he told Denis e about Brother.

  She said, "You sure you're not making it up? It sounds like a movie. I can hear the score, 'You're the Reason God Mad e Oklahoma.' "