They Don't Dance Much: A Novel

by James Ross

  The girl was on this side and the ballplayers got a good look at her. That is, Ox and Thurlow did. Lefty was sitting with his back to the door and looked like he was deep in thought. Like he might be worrying about spending the summer out in Utah.

  Ox nudged Thurlow in the ribs. ‘See the little dame with the fortifications?’ he asked.

  ‘Fortifications?’

  ‘Them breastworks.’

  ‘Oh.’ Thurlow spat toward the spittoon, but lacked a couple of inches of making it.

  ‘She wasn’t bad,’ Thurlow said. ‘There ain’t nobody over on that side of the joint now. We ought to go over there and give the guy’s girl a break. Course I never was so crazy about dancing with these little short babes.’

  ‘Hell, she’s six inches taller’n you are,’ Ox said. He stood up. ‘Come on, Thurlow.’

  Thurlow got up and they started off toward the other door. Smut Milligan looked up from his list.

  ‘Hey,’ Smut said, ‘how about paying for the beer you got? There ain’t no drinks on the house out here. This ain’t no Relief Agency.’

  Ox looked over his shoulder at Smut. ‘Take it easy, Dough-Face. We ain’t left yet,’ he said, and went into the dance hall.

  Smut’s eyes got narrow. He wasn’t used to being called ‘Dough-Face,’ at least not around Corinth.

  Lefty noticed how Smut’s face changed. He got out his pocket­book and threw a dollar bill up the counter toward me.

  ‘Take the beers out of that, pal,’ he said to me. He turned toward Smut. ‘Don’t pay any attention to Ox,’ he said. ‘There ain’t no harm in Ox. He’s just been drinking, and when he’s drinking he’s got a lot of slack jaw that don’t mean nothing.’

  Smut went back to his list and didn’t say anything. Just then I heard the nickelodeon start up and I knew Hubert Parkerson and the little girl were dancing. I wondered how Hubert would take the ballplayers breaking in on his private party.

  This Parkerson wasn’t more than twenty years old, but he’d had a lot of experience with women. His daddy was superintendent of the hosiery mill in Corinth, and was Henry Fisher’s first lieutenant. He made plenty of money, but had to spend a good bit on Hubert. In the winter-time he generally sent Hubert off to a military school, where he would be controlled, but this winter the military school got tired of him and booted him out at Christmas. When he was around Corinth Hubert shot a lot of pool and drove around in a slick roadster. His main activity, however, was courting. He was so bad about running after women that every time a girl got pregnant in Corinth it was laid on him. But Hubert picked out who he got in trouble. He always knocked up girls from families that didn’t have any political pull nor much social position, and when the girl commenced swelling up he would just give her a small check and tell her to go to hell. Once, when he was about eighteen, he was running around with Rosalie McCann and she got in the usual fix. Her daddy, Tom McCann, was a hot-headed fellow and he was out to make Hubert marry her. But Tom was the night watchman in the hosiery mill. As soon as he started that talk about Hubert was going to have to marry his girl, Hubert’s daddy called Tom into his office and told him to pipe down and forget the matter, or he’d be on the outside looking for another job pretty quick. Tom McCann took the money the Parkersons gave him and sent Rosalie off to have her baby. He had other children besides Rosalie.

  I don’t know what it was about Hubert that made him such a hot number with the girls. He was tall and a little fat. He had black curly hair and a big dishpan face, that was covered with purple-looking splotches. I guess one reason he was so popular with the girls was that he had nerve enough to go on and try it.

  About that time Badeye came back from the men’s room, where he’d been as the result of two days’ experimenting with beer, port wine, and corn liquor. His face was paler than usual, but I knew he’d be all right as soon as he could manage to get down a bottle of beer. Sam had left then, and Matt was in the kitchen, so I went over to the dance hall to see if Hubert and his girl wanted anything.

  When I got there Hubert and the girl that was called Half-Pint were dancing. Ox and Thurlow were sitting in one of the booths, looking like they were just aiming to spend the night in there talking about baseball.

  The little school-teacher was looking up at Hubert Parkerson like she hoped he was as dangerous as she’d heard. There was something about her that reminded me of a pullet running from a rooster, but not running quite fast enough. They danced over in front of the booth where Ox and Thurlow were sitting. Thurlow adjusted his tie and got up out of the booth. Ox put his hand under his chin and watched.

  Thurlow pranced out to where they were dancing and tapped Hubert Parkerson on the back. Parkerson sort of twisted around and began moving down the floor. He looked down at the girl. ‘Honey, it looks like Smut Milligan would spray this joint with Flit. There’s an insect lit on my back,’ he said.

  Thurlow caught up with Hubert again and this time whacked him in the small of the back. ‘Pardon me, pal,’ Thurlow said.

  Hubert looked over his shoulder at Thurlow. ‘Why, certainly I’ll pardon you, friend,’ he said. ‘But don’t let it happen again.’

  ‘I’m breaking on you, pal,’ Thurlow said, and tried to step in front of Hubert.

  Hubert swung the girl around and sidestepped. ‘That’s what you think,’ he said. ‘Go on back to your booth and play third base for awhile.’ I think Thurlow must have been a third baseman.

  Thurlow was about half as big as Hubert. He got discouraged and went back to the booth where Ox was sitting. I followed him back there.

  Thurlow sat down on the opposite side from Ox, who was laughing. ‘Decided you’d sit this one out?’ Ox asked.

  ‘He acted snotty about it,’ Thurlow said, and spat under the booth. ‘He tried to get hard about it, and rather than have trouble with him I let him have her. She ain’t got so much oomph noway, when you get right up at her.’

  ‘He don’t look like no bad news to me,’ Ox said. ‘Gimme your tie; I got to be dressed formal if I dance.’ He reached over and jerked off Thurlow’s tie and then stood up. He walked across the floor, fixing his tie, and when he got to Hubert tapped him on the back. I walked over close to them.

  ‘Pardon me, chum,’ Ox said, ‘but I think this next dance is mine.’ Ox adjusted the knot on his tie and twisted his neck around.

  Hubert sidestepped again and swung the girl around to the right. ‘Why don’t you start dancing, then?’ he asked.

  ‘I think I will, chum,’ Ox said, and grabbed Hubert and jerked him away from the girl.

  Ox took the girl and commenced dancing with her. She was scared; she danced with Ox and her mouth was wide open as any fly trap. Hubert stood there a minute, then bowed up like a mad cat and tackled Ox.

  He hit Ox around the thighs and they both went down. The girl was thrown clear of them, and lay flat as a flounder out on the floor. Hubert had Ox down and turned him over before Ox knew what it was all about. Hubert commenced choking him.

  He didn’t get so far along with his choking. Ox was a big fellow and he gave one heave and came up with Hubert in his arms. With his left he held Hubert and with his right he hauled off and knocked him down. Hubert slid across the floor and banged his head against the side of a booth.

  Smut Milligan must have heard the noise, for just then he came running over there. Lefty and Badeye were right behind him, and then Matt Rush.

  ‘What the hell? What the hell?’ Smut Milligan said.

  I don’t think banging his head like that hurt Hubert much. He jumped up and made another dive at Ox, but Ox met him with another lick and Hubert swept the floor again.

  Smut grabbed Ox by the shoulder. ‘Cut it out. You can’t fight in here,’ he said.

  Ox turned and hit Smut full in the mouth. A little blood gushed out of Smut’s lip and he looked surprised. Then he opened his mouth in a sideways grin.

  ‘Okay,’ Smut said, and let Ox have one in the pit of the belly. Ox put his hands to his belly, a
nd that was when Smut let him have it on the chin. Ox went down like a stuck hog and the fight was over.

  Smut was panting a little. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood off his mouth.

  ‘Get him on home,’ Smut told Lefty. ‘I didn’t want to hit him, but he was getting too rowdy.’

  Ox got up then and started cussing, but he was sort of dazed, and Lefty and Thurlow got him outside and they went back to the hotel.

  Hubert had got bruised up some and his face was dirty from mopping the floor. He didn’t look exactly like a hero is supposed to look. But the little school-teacher was over there on the floor with him, rubbing his face and looking at him like he was the Defender of the Faith. It looked like Smut would get to rent a cabin that night.

  It was after eleven by then and nobody else was in the place. I guess Smut had been about ready to leave just as the fight started, but now his lip was bloody and puffed up and he had to go to the cabin and clean up before he took off. I went along and helped Hubert Parkerson patch himself up. We left the girl at the counter, in the care of Badeye and Matt Rush.

  Hubert was pretty dirty and he washed his face and I put some iodine on the back of his neck where he’d scratched it. Smut washed the blood off his lip and was examining it in the mirror.

  ‘That bastard caught me off my guard,’ Hubert said, as I was brushing the dirt off the back of his coat. ‘I’ll get him yet. He can’t come down here and start something like that.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty bad picking a fight with a fellow when he’s out with his girl,’ Smut said.

  ‘Oh, she’s not my girl—specially,’ Hubert said. ‘Half-Pint don’t mean anything to me. I’m just trying to work up a little. That’s all. But that outsider can’t come in here and get by with stuff like that in Corinth.’ He picked at his eye where it was beginning to puff up a little—Ox had smacked him on the side of the face the last time.

  ‘By the way, Smut,’ Hubert said, ‘how much you get for a cabin?’

  ‘A dollar,’ Smut said.

  Hubert took a dollar bill out of his coat pocket and handed it to Smut.

  ‘Which one?’ he asked Smut.

  ‘Last one next to the woods. It ain’t locked, but the key’s in the table drawer and you can lock it. Ain’t nobody going to bother you.’

  ‘I don’t want this to get out,’ Hubert said. ‘She’s a schoolteacher, you know.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn if she’s President of the D.A.R.,’ Smut said. ‘But don’t worry. I don’t want it to get out any more than you do.’

  Hubert went back to the roadhouse then and Smut started too, but he stopped in the door.

  ‘Say, Jack, you haven’t seen the key to my locker, have you?’ he said.

  ‘What did it look like?’ I asked.

  ‘It was a little key. A thin key with three notches on it.’

  ‘I haven’t seen it,’ I said.

  ‘Be on the lookout for it,’ Smut said. ‘I got to get in the locker, and I hate to have to file the lock off.’

  Smut went on out of the door then and back to the roadhouse, but I stayed in the cabin. Smut had told me he would have Badeye and Matt keep the place open till twelve or twelve-thirty and let them close it up. In a few minutes I heard the pick-up take off and I knew Smut was up to some sort of monkey business that night. Then I heard Hubert drive off. I guess he drove his car down Lover’s Lane a little ways, then doubled back up a wagon road that came out just behind the cabins. It was probably necessary to go through all that rigamarole to make the girl think they were fooling everybody.

  As soon as the coast was clear, I started looking for the money. I looked all through the cabin, in the mattresses, all through the dresser, in the shower; everywhere except in Smut’s locker, which was locked. I didn’t think he had it in there anyway. He could lock it up in there, all right, but he knew I could take an axe and bust it open mighty quick. Finally I got outside and hunted under the cabin, but I was afraid to use the flashlight out there.

  I went back into the cabin and tried to think where I would hide the money if it had been me. While I was studying about it, I went into the shower-room and got ready to shave. That way I could do two things at once.

  There wasn’t a blade in my razor, so I picked up Smut’s. But after I started shaving I saw the blade in his was dull as a froe and there wasn’t anything left but to get a new blade. I reached up on the top shelf of the cabinet and pulled the box of blades off it. Something fell off on the floor.

  I stooped down and picked it up. It was a thin key and I thought it was the key that Smut had lost. I wiped the lather off my face with the towel and took the key into the main room and unlocked Smut’s locker.

  I took the top of it out and went through that. The only things there were about half a dozen decks of cards with the little diamonds on the back, and a pair of stubby-looking shears that Smut used for trimming the cards. He once told me a pair of shears like that cost sixty-five dollars.

  Smut had some shirts and underwear in the bottom of the locker. There was a quart of White Horse in there too, and an envelope that had another little key in it, but no money.

  I fitted the top in again and locked it back up. Then I put the key on the shelf where it had been, and finished shaving.

  Afterward I went out to the car shed and rummaged around in there in the dark; I wanted to go up to the roadhouse, but Johnny Lilly was still in the kitchen and I didn’t know whether I could get by with that anyway. Finally I gave up for that night and went to bed.

  I didn’t sleep very well after I got in bed. I kept having a lot of wild dreams and finally a nightmare where I thought I was awake, but not able to get out of the bed. After I overcame this nightmare paralysis I sat up on the side of the bed. It was then that I thought of another shot in the dark.

  I got the key off the top shelf and unlocked Smut’s locker again. I took the envelope out of the bottom and got out the key that was inside. Then I unlocked Smut’s zipper bag that was under the dresser.

  There was a copy of the Charlotte News in the top of the bag. Underneath was the money. It was still done up according to the denominations of the bills and had the rubber bands around it. I was taking out one of the rolls when I felt that there was somebody in the room with me. I looked up. Smut Milligan was standing in the doorway.

  17

  SMUT STOOD IN THE DOORWAY with his hands on his hips. He was smiling, with his eyes almost shut, and with his mouth pursed up. Like somebody might smile at a child that was beginning to solve a tough problem.

  ‘You’re getting warm, Jack,’ Smut said. ‘In fact you’re hot as hell.’

  I remember trying to wet my lips with my dry tongue. The windows back of me were down. Smut was between me and the door. He looked big standing there in the light with the blackness outside for a background.

  Smut was still smiling his pleased smile.

  ‘I guess you was aiming to skip out with the money,’ he said. He stopped smiling then, and took a step toward me. I was still kneeling over the zipper bag.

  ‘It would have been a waste of time for you to skip. I’d have caught you and fed you to the buzzards in some swamp,’ Smut said.

  ‘You talk hard,’ I said.

  ‘I can act hard too,’ Smut said. He had stopped about six feet from where I was.

  ‘I just want what’s coming to me,’ I said.

  ‘All right, damn you, I’ll give it to you!’ Smut said, and dived at me.

  I tried to stand up then, but he hit me before I straightened out. His weight threw me on my back. I tried to claw his eyes, but he commenced choking me, and pretty soon all I could think about was how to get the next breath. Things were beginning to get dim when I finally worked my knee loose and raised it and smacked him in the groin. I must have hit him pretty hard. He grunted and loosened his grip on my throat. I took in a little air and hit him there again. He rolled off me.

  I hurt him all right, but I wasn’t in such g
ood shape myself. I backed off in the corner and stood behind the only chair that was in the cabin. If he started at me again I aimed to use the chair for something besides sitting purposes.

  Smut was a little sick. He spat on the floor, then turned and faced me.

  ‘God damn you, you’ll need something besides your knees in a minute,’ he said.

  ‘I had to do it,’ I said. ‘It was that or get choked to death. But if you start anything else tonight I’ve got this chair.’

  Smut sat up then. ‘Get to hell out of here,’ he said.

  I carried the chair with me as far as the door. I went out of the cabin and into the yard. It was a black night, and windy, like it gets in the spring before a storm. I went into the cabin that was next to Smut’s. When I got inside I bolted the door and locked the windows.

  18

  THE NEXT MORNING WHEN I went up to the roadhouse I didn’t bother to go in the kitchen. I wasn’t hungry and I had plenty of thinking to do. I knew Smut would try to run me off. But I intended to stay on. I had too much on him for him to pull stuff like ordering me off the premises. It was a cinch that he’d hide the money again, but I was more certain than ever that he was afraid to take it to any place like a bank. I figured I had a good chance to find it and I was willing to gamble on being fed to the buzzards. Sooner or later it would be the buzzards or the worms anyway. It didn’t make any difference to me which one it was.

  I got a broom and commenced cleaning out in the front. After a while Dick Pittman came in from the kitchen and sat down at the counter. He had the paper and offered me part of it. But I told him to keep it all. I wasn’t interested that morning in what was going on out in the world.

  About eight o’clock Smut Milligan walked in. If he was surprised to see me he didn’t show it.

  ‘Hello, boys,’ Smut said.

  ‘Hello,’ Dick said.

  Smut sat down beside Dick and lit a cigarette. I was sweeping under the booths. Smut kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Finally he said, ‘How’re you, Jack?’