Texasville

by Larry McMurtry

  Suzie and Dickie stood on the dock and dressed. Duane could hear them talking, but not what they said. Once Suzie stopped Dickie and kissed him. Then Dickie carried the small ice chest to the Porsche. Suzie picked up their towels and deposited a bag of trash in a trash barrel.

  His pickup was sitting right next to the Porsche, so they must realize that he was around, but they went on casually chatting and packing the car.

  Duane began to feel silly. He had known for a long time that Suzie loved Dickie. He had only got to know her himself because of a little riffle in their relations. He had no reason to hide in the darkness, listening to frogs jump in the water, but he stood a little longer before forcing himself to start back.

  Suzie and Dickie stood by the Porsche, their arms around one another, when Duane walked up.

  “Hey, Dad,” Dickie said. “Where’s the fish?”

  “The fish got away,” Duane said. “Hi, Suzie.”

  “Duane, can I get a ride?” she asked. “Dickie has to go to Wichita.”

  “Sure, I’ll take you in,” Duane said.

  Dickie seemed a bit nervous. He stood on one foot and then the other.

  “Aren’t you coming to the dance?” Duane asked. “It’s the last night of the centennial.”

  “Oh, I’m coming,” Dickie said. “Jacy would skin me alive if I didn’t show up to dance with her. I’m just going to run a little errand first.”

  After a nervous glance at Duane, he gave Suzie another kiss.

  “You tell him,” he said, and jumped in the Porsche. Shorty began to jump up in the air and yip.

  “Take him with you,” Duane said. “I think he wants to ride in a Porsche.”

  Dickie didn’t complain. He snapped his fingers and Shorty jumped in. The Porsche was soon out of sight, trailing a cloud of dust.

  “Tell me what?” Duane asked.

  “We’re getting married,” Suzie said. “I’m gonna be your daughter-in-law, Duane.”

  “Naw, Suzie, come on,” Duane said.

  “Yep, I am,” Suzie said. “He’s gone to Wichita to get the engagement ring right now. Some of those jewelry stores in the mall stay open until nine.”

  “I think I’ll drown myself,” Duane said. “Or maybe I should drown you.”

  Suzie laughed. Neither threat impressed her.

  “I’ll be good for him, Duane,” she said. “I’ve already got him to stop selling dope.”

  “How?” Duane asked, genuinely surprised. Dickie loved to sell marijuana.

  “I bought him out,” Suzie said. “It took the last of poor old Junior’s money, but I told Dickie I loved him too much to risk anything bad happening to him.”

  “That’s good, but it don’t mean you need to marry him, does it?” Duane asked.

  “He don’t know about us, if that’s what’s worrying you,” Suzie said.

  “That’s not what’s worrying me,” Duane said. “Everything’s what’s worrying me. Did you know Jenny thinks she’s pregnant by him?”

  “Sure,” Suzie said. “That okay with me. Dickie will make a great daddy.”

  “Yeah, but now Janine’s pregnant by Lester,” Duane said. “They’re hiding out in the courthouse. Bobby Lee thinks he’s in love with Nellie. Junior’s involved with Billie Anne, and she’s still married to Dickie. Now you wanta marry Dickie, and you’re not even divorced from Junior. It’s too much. I don’t know where we’re gonna start, but we need to get a little sanity around here pretty soon.”

  “You haven’t said anything about yourself, Duane,” Suzie said. “You’re just talking your head off about other people.”

  “Yeah, because other people’s behavior is driving me crazy,” Duane said. “It’s hard enough facing bankruptcy without everybody I know marrying and divorcing once or twice a week.”

  “Why should you care? You’re happily married,” Suzie said.

  “I don’t know that I am,” Duane said. “My own family left home and moved in with Jacy.”

  “They moved back though—didn’t they?” Suzie asked.

  “Yeah, but who knows if they’ll stay,” he said. “They’re planning to go to Italy. I guess they’ll come back, but I don’t know. Maybe they won’t.”

  The more he talked about it, the more confused and outraged he felt. Grown-up sensible people just seemed to have lost all balance.

  “There don’t seem to be no restraint at all anymore,” he said. “People just do anything—and not just kids, either. Grown-up people, who ought to know better, just do anything that pops into their heads.”

  Suzie laughed and nudged him in the ribs.

  “Look who’s talking,” she said. “Seems like I remember a couple of people having sex under the red light. If you’re so big on restraint how come that happened?”

  “It happened where it happened because you wouldn’t let me drive around behind the post office,” he said.

  He was aware, though, that the force of his complaint had been somewhat weakened.

  “Besides that, you’d do it again, if I wanted you to,” Suzie said. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not a chance,” Duane said.

  “I think there’s a chance,” Suzie said, with a certain authority in her voice. “I think there’s a hundred percent chance you’d do it again if I wanted you to.”

  “You’re about to be my daughter-in-law,” he said. “If I was to do it again I certainly wouldn’t admire myself for it.”

  Suzie smiled—not the incandescent smile of love she had given Dickie, just the satisfied smile of a woman confident of her powers.

  “I’m not gonna lose two minutes’ sleep the rest of my life over whether you admire yourself or not, Duane,” she said. “I just want you to admit you’d do it if I wanted you to.”

  “How about Junior?” he asked. “How’s he gonna take this news?”

  “He’s already taken it,” Suzie said. “I told him this morning. He said he didn’t want to stand in the way of my happiness. Actually he’s just tired of me getting in the way of his imhappiness.”

  The wind blew through the pickup, blowing Suzie’s long hair across her face.

  “I tried to give him happiness but there’s just some people who won’t take it,” Suzie said. “Junior won’t die, though. He seems like one of those people who don’t really live, but I guess he lives, in his way. He’ll mope around and get rich again someday, when things improve.”

  They came into town just in time to get ahead of a string of cars leaving the rodeo pens. The pageant had just ended.

  “You staying for the dance?” he asked.

  Suzie shook her head. “Take me home,” she said.

  Taking her home only took a few minutes. He pulled up to her driveway and killed the motor. They could faintly hear the sounds of the merry-go-round from the little carnival. Duane was in no hurry to leave, nor did Suzie seem to be in a hurry to get out. She was relaxed, but he wasn’t. His sense that things were running wildly out of kilter kept returning.

  “Dickie’s young and he’s fickle,” Duane said. “You’re my age. Have you ever thought of the long term?”

  “Uh-huh,” Suzie said. “I’ve thought about the long term of my old age.”

  “He’s a good boy,” Duane said, “but he’s kind of a heart-breaker.”

  “Shut up, Duane,” Suzie said. “It’s not your job to keep me from getting hurt.”

  “I’d hate to see either one of you get hurt,” Duane said.

  “You better think about yourself,” Suzie said. “You’re gonna end up going crazy if you don’t stop worrying about everybody you know. You’re not ever gonna get people around here to settle down and do sensible things. They’re just gonna do whatever they want to do. Why should you try and stop them?”

  “I’m trying to stop you and Dickie because I think you’re making a big mistake,” he said.

  “Are you fighting it because you want me for yourself?” she asked.

  “It’s not so much that,” Duane said, unprep
ared for the question.

  Suzie opened her door.

  “If it’s not that, then it’s none of your business,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding, after we all get our divorces.”

  “I could never have had you for myself,” he said, made uncomfortable by her hostile tone. “You were too much in love with Dickie all along.”

  “Head over heels in love with him,” Suzie said with a smile. “I’m just trying to get you to be honest about what you want, but you’re never going to be because you don’t know how to be honest and you don’t know what you want, either.”

  She got out and started for her house, but then stopped and came around to his side of the pickup. She gestured for him to bend down, and gave him a little kiss.

  “That’s okay, sweetie,” she said. “I don’t care if you don’t know what you want. I’m glad I’m getting you for a father-in-law. We might have some interesting family reunions one of these days.”

  “I just hope he stays with you long enough for there to be time for reunions,” Duane said.

  “Duane, you keep harping on the wrong things,” Suzie said. “Something doesn’t have to last a hundred years to be beautiful.”

  “I guess it’s the marrying part I don’t understand,” Duane said. “It don’t seem necessary. Why don’t you just keep doing what you’re doing?”

  Suzie seemed hurt by the comment. She stepped back from the pickup and the look she gave him was indignant.

  “I can’t wait to start calling you Daddy Duane,” she said in an angry tone. “You act like a Daddy all the time now.”

  “Suzie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said.

  “My feelings are fine,” Suzie said. “They’re real healthy feelings. If you had a few like them you’d have a lot better time at that dance.”

  Then she turned and went in her house.

  CHAPTER 90

  DUANE ARRIVED AT THE COURTHOUSE IN A TROUBLED state. It had become his usual, almost his only, state. He decided on the short ride from Suzie’s house that he would give up talking to women. It seemed to be the only way to avoid living in a troubled state, which was almost always the result of things women said. Chance remarks that they flung off effortlessly, without a thought, bounced around in his memory for hours or even days. He had the sense that his own speech consisted almost entirely of stupid statements, the equivalent of weak forehands, which didn’t really represent his game at its best. The women responded with conversational smashes, drop shots, or stinging volleys, according to their bent.

  No matter what shot he chose to hit, he was left with a sense of being out of position. They all contented themselves with pointing out that he had the wrong attitude toward life, but none of them bothered to supply him with an attitude that he could replace his old one with.

  The streets were so thronged with revelers come to dance away the final night of the Hardtop County Centennial that he was forced to park seven blocks from the courthouse, a new record.

  He had hardly stepped on the courthouse lawn—and the crowd was so thick it was hard even to get to the courthouse lawn—when he was seized by Bobby Lee, who had a nosebleed and a split lip but seemed invigorated nonetheless.

  “What happened to you?” Duane asked.

  “I got into it with G.G. The son-of-a-bitch keeps knocking beer cans out of my hands,” Bobby Lee said. “They’re arresting us fighting drunks left and right, but there’s only ten or twelve of them and there’s thousands of us. Come on, hurry.”

  “Hurry where?” Duane asked.

  “Over to the carnival,” Bobby Lee said. “Little Mike’s upstaged the human fly.”

  Duane saw to his surprise that almost everyone crowded onto the courthouse lawn was gazing upward. Some were looking at the human fly, a well-known local performer named Jerry Cooper, who hailed from the small town of Megargel, Texas. Jerry, a rig painter, supplemented his modest income by doubling as a human fly, climbing courthouses, water towers and other lowly structures, generally in connection with rodeos or county fairs. He had performed in Thalia many times, climbing the water tower, courthouse or jail, as the mood struck him.

  This time, what seemed to have struck him was panic. He was clinging to the side of the courthouse, midway between the second and third floors, going neither up nor down.

  “What’s wrong, Jerry?” Duane asked. He had always admired Jerry’s skills and had been responsible for hiring him to make the centennial climb.

  “This courthouse is a mean booger, Duane,” Jerry said in a wan, discouraged voice. “I think it’s gonna get me this time.”

  The crowd hooted. The courthouse was made of rough sandstone and looked easy to climb—or easy if one was a climber. Several drunks immediately started climbing it to show how easy it was. One of them reached the second floor in a matter of seconds but then grew overconfident, slipped and fell into some shrubbery. He did not appear to be hurt, but his fall didn’t improve Jerry Cooper’s mood.

  “See what I mean,” he said.

  “But you’ve already climbed this courthouse five or six times,” Duane said.

  “I know, but that was in the daylight,” Jerry said. “It’s more slippery at night. Seems like these rocks kinda sweat.”

  The crowd booed mercilessly. It was plain they had little use for a human fly who couldn’t climb a three-story courthouse.

  “You just like one story being up,” Duane said, to encourage him.

  “The way I look at it, I like two stories being down,” Jerry said, morosely. “I ain’t going up.”

  Duane heard screams from behind him. A crowd of women were looking up at the Ferris wheel and screaming. Jacy, Jenny and several men stood under the Ferris wheel. The men had picked up Junior Nolan’s mattress and were using it as a safety net. Seated on a stanchion, high atop the Ferris wheel, was Little Mike.

  “Hang on, Jerry, we’ll get you down in a minute,” Duane said. He saw Karla and Nellie standing back a little way from the group of women. They were both yelling at Little Mike, but the crowd drowned out their yells.

  Duane ran over to the Ferris wheel, which was stopped. It was also full. Many teenagers were suspended in midair. They seemed to be enjoying the excitement. The large man who operated the ride was leaning on the brake lever with a look of impatience.

  “Meanwhile I’m losing business,” he said to Karla, who had kicked off her dancing shoes and was preparing to climb up after her grandson.

  “Now wait a minute,” Duane said. “Let’s think this through and not do anything rash.”

  The crowd screamed again. Little Mike, holding casually to a cable, had bent over to spit at the men with the mattress. The farther he bent, the louder the crowd screamed. In the quiet moments after the scream Duane heard Little Mike babbling happily to himself.

  “Where have you been?” Karla asked, eyes flashing.

  “Fishing,” Duane said.

  “Momma thinks he’ll fall but I don’t,” Nellie said. “He’s a real good little climber.”

  “Meanwhile I’m losing business,” the Ferris wheel operator said.

  “Duane, will you buy this Ferris wheel?” Karla asked, as she started her climb. “This profit-minded son-of-a-bitch is bugging me.”

  The operator looked startled. “Is she serious?” he asked.

  “Now, Karla, hold on a minute,” Duane said. Karla had quickly climbed to the first crossbar.

  “Why?” Karla asked, peering down at him. “That’s my grandbaby up there.”

  “He’s just sitting there spitting,” Duane pointed out.

  “If she’s serious you can have the whole carnival for sixty thousand,” the operator said. “And that’s installed wherever you want it installed.”

  “Duane, somebody’s got to get him down,” Karla said.

  “He’s got good balance, he might not fall,” Jacy said. She too was looking upward, appraising the situation.

  “He can tell when you’re mad,” Duane said to Karla
. “That’s why I don’t think you should climb up after him. He might try to get away and fall accidentally.”

  “We’re all trained volunteer firemen, we can catch him right on this mattress,” Eddie Belt said.

  “I wish Julie would hurry,” Nellie said. “He’d come down if Julie told him to.”

  “Where is Julie?” Duane asked.

  “Down at Ruth’s, playing cards with Sonny,” Karla said. She had paused in her ascent. Little Mike bent over and spat again, provoking more screams.

  “I think Duane’s got a point,” Jacy said. “As long as you don’t scare him he’s probably safe enough.”

  “Safe enough? He’s fifty feet in the air!” Karla said, but she didn’t climb any higher. Several of the men holding the mattress, too drunk to be particularly interested in Little Mike, were not too drunk to enjoy looking up Karla’s skirt.

  “Fifty-five thousand and you install it yourself,” the carnival operator said. “It’d fit in a good-sized backyard and then your kids would never be bored.”

  To his relief Duane saw the twins wheeling through the crowd on their bikes. They were taking their time, and appeared to be their nonchalant selves.

  “Want me to climb up and shake the little dickface off?” Jack asked, not visibly disturbed by the plight of his nephew.

  “No, we don’t want him shook off,” Duane said.

  “And you watch your language, this is a public place,” Karla said, crouching on her crossbar.

  “These louts are looking at your snatch,” Jacy informed her.

  “Oh, let ’em dream,” Karla said. “Julie, will you see if you can get Little Mike to come down?”

  “Get down from there, you little showoff!” Julie yelled, not bothering to dismount from her bicycle.

  Hearing the command of his goddess, Little Mike immediately began to climb down. Various people, including Duane, positioned themselves to catch him if he fell, but he made a smooth and rapid descent.

  “That kid should be sent to reform school right now,” Jack said jealously.

  “Shut up, you fuckerface!” Julie said. They rode off together, arguing.