Jackrabbit Smile

by Joe R. Lansdale

  “My name is Judith Mulhaney. This is my son, Thomas. What we want is to hire you to find my missing daughter. His sister, Jackie.”

  “We called her Jackrabbit,” Thomas said. “She has these big front teeth. Looked good on her, though. That’s how we got to calling her a jackrabbit, saying she had a jackrabbit smile.”

  “She’s been gone from home five years,” Judith said. “Be honest, I don’t think she’s alive. Not to say she’s been dead for five years. She was alive during most of that time, we know that. People saw her, but we didn’t, just heard how she was doing here and there. Thought eventually, things would work out, that she’d come back to see us, but in the past few months, no one has seen her that we’re aware of. Got to say we don’t know many people over there well enough to be sure if we’re getting the correct news. We kind of keep to ourselves. But I got a bad feeling. A mother knows.”

  “If anything was done to her,” Thomas said, “I got an idea who might have done it.”

  “We want her back,” Judith said, “be it flesh, or be it bones.”

  “All right,” Brett said. “Before we know if we can be of any help, we need to hear the whole story. Need to know if you got money. Investigations don’t come cheap.”

  “You get right to it, don’t you?” Judith said.

  “I do,” Brett said. “You want us to do this, put us to work, you got to understand I don’t like you or your son. You’ve insulted Leonard here several times and are too dense to know it or too insensitive to care. You’ve done everything but call him the N-word.”

  “I can say ‘nigger,’” Leonard said. “It’s okay I do. ‘Nigger, nigger, nigger.’”

  “Goddamn it, Leonard,” Brett said.

  “Just saying,” Leonard said.

  “That’s what I don’t get,” Thomas said. “You can say it, but I can’t.”

  “Oh, you can say it,” Leonard said, “but say it with me standing here, next time you say it, it might be through a gap in your teeth. I say ‘nigger,’ we call it ironic, don’t we, Hap?”

  “Ironic,” I said.

  “You say it, and we knock your teeth out.”

  “It don’t seem fair,” Thomas said.

  “It’s on account of things having been so damn fair for us dark-skinned folks all these years. That too is irony, if you’re wondering. And that doesn’t mean something you do with starch and an ironing board.”

  “I know what ‘irony’ means,” Thomas said. I didn’t think he sounded all that convincing.

  “Look here,” I said. “Me and Brett, we’re celebrating, and I don’t want to deal with this. I’m sorry, but Jackie’s been gone five years, she can wait a day. This is our day. Meet us at our office tomorrow at ten a.m., if you’re serious. You know where the office is, I take it?”

  Judith and Thomas both nodded in concert.

  “And by the way. How did you find our house?” I said.

  “Address is in the phone book,” Thomas said.

  “We looked up Brett Sawyer, like on the agency listing, and there’s a house address for Brett Sawyer,” Judith said. “We just drove over.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  So much for our Fortress of Solitude.

  3

  Me and Brett lay in bed breathing hard, our bodies covered in sweat. I was holding her in my arms and the air was beginning to cool. She reached over and grabbed the sheet and pulled it over us.

  “Ah,” I said, “you’re blocking my view.”

  “You’ve seen enough for one night. My ass hurts.”

  “That was our first sex as a happily married couple,” I said.

  “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it was a whole lot like the sex we had before we were married.”

  “This is true,” I said. “But good, nonetheless.”

  “Absolutely. I’m glad we finally did it, Hap. Married, not had sex. Well, that came out wrong. I’m glad we did both. I don’t know why being married matters, but it does. I didn’t think it would. I knew you wanted to, and then I wanted to because you did, and now that we’re married, I do feel different. I like it. Of course, I had a couple beers at lunch.”

  “It’s a solid commitment, and I think it helps on our taxes.”

  “Married people break up all the time,” she said.

  “Not this time.”

  “Right answer,” she said. “Do you think we were kind of mean to those people today?”

  “I do. And they had it coming.”

  “Maybe we just fulfilled their idea of what liberal-minded folks are supposed to be like. Well, you’re the most liberal-minded, and Leonard, he’s not liberal, so maybe I don’t know shit.”

  “Leonard was a real asshole,” I said. “Talking about lining women up against the wall. He should have said men if he really wanted to get to them. Women aren’t his attraction.”

  “I understand the sentiment,” Brett said, and rubbed my thigh under the sheet.

  “I don’t know if I want to help those two,” I said. “I really don’t like them.”

  “It’s not about their beliefs, Hap, it’s about the missing girl.”

  “Jackrabbit.”

  “I bet she hated that name.”

  “Probably didn’t use it with the general public,” I said.

  “Thinking it over,” Brett said, “I think Leonard showed tremendous restraint.”

  “Yeah, couple years back he would have set their truck on fire with them in it.”

  “Think they’ll show up at the office in the morning?”

  “I don’t know. But if you keep rubbing my thigh, I can tell you what will show up.”

  “That’s kind of the idea,” she said. “Question? You mind I’m keeping my last name, not taking yours?”

  “Of course not. I’m keeping mine. I don’t want to be Hap Sawyer any more than you want to be Brett Collins. I have thought about changing my name to Swinging Dick, though. Think that suits me better.”

  “Oh, baby. Name like that, wouldn’t you need enough to swing, to give it meaning?”

  “Oh, that hurt.”

  Brett laughed that throaty laugh she has and took hold of my head and pulled me to her and kissed me.

  4

  In the morning, we got up and had coffee and buttered toast, then showered together. It felt funny having the house all to ourselves again. First Leonard had moved in for a while, then he was gone, then Chance came in, and then she got an apartment and was out, then Reba the Four-Hundred-Year-Old Vampire Midget stayed with us for a couple of nightmarish weeks, then Reba moved in with Chance, who could stand her best, and then Buffy, the dog Leonard had rescued but who lived with us, moved in with Chance as well. Buffy and Reba had the least bit of luggage, unless you counted all that was packed up in their pasts. Mistreated girl, mistreated dog.

  After showering, we ended up having sex on the couch, just because we could, then we got dressed, and Brett drove us to the office in her car. The bike shop under our office was opening up. I always tried to take a glance at the owner, a beautiful blond lady who wore shorts most of the time, even in cool weather, and in cold weather she wore yoga pants that didn’t do her any harm either. I didn’t see her this morning, but I looked anyway. I love my redheaded woman, but I won’t lie: I enjoy examining the female form. I like to think it’s the potential artist in me. But it’s probably hormones. I think I got an extra share.

  Leonard was already in the office making coffee and eating from a bag of vanilla cookies. There was a large watermelon on the desk next to a stack of moon pies and a can of malt liquor. On the wall, his fedora hung on a nail, and beside it, on another nail, was a straw cowboy hat about the size of a bird feeder. He wore hats from time to time, these and another one he kept at home, an actual deerstalker cap, like Sherlock Holmes in the movies, but he was going through a hatless period and had taken to shaving his head. I think this was due to his hair thinning.

  As we came in, Leonard said, “And how are the newlyweds?”
/>
  “About like we were before we were newlyweds,” Brett said. “Except, oh my God, the sex was amazing. We saw little stars.”

  “Really, we did,” I said. “We bumped our heads on the headboard.”

  “I don’t want to hear about it,” Leonard said. “The idea of heterosexual sex always makes me queasy.”

  “Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” I said, “why is there a watermelon, moon pies, and a can of malt liquor on the desk?”

  “I was hoping, those two showed up, I would fit the stereotype. Just love jacking with them.”

  “Not today,” Brett said. “Put that stuff out of sight. I thought about it all night. They may be assholes, but if they hire us, they’re our assholes, so let’s treat them like clients. We can dislike them on our off-hours.”

  “You’re no fun,” Leonard said, but he started moving the stuff off the desk and into the closet. He said, “I actually did bring all this stuff from home, except the malt liquor. That’s Officer Carroll’s. Had time, I’d have bought a bucket of chicken to go with this stuff.”

  “Just finish putting it away,” Brett said. Then to me: “And you, mister. You can stop grinning. There’s sweeping up needed around here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  I got the broom and dustpan and went at it, especially under the desk, where dirt was inclined to mound up from our shoes.

  “Ha-ha,” Leonard said, watching me sweep. “You missed a spot.”

  I finished up sweeping, checked the clock, saw it was a minute before ten.

  Right then Brett said, “Here they are.”

  She was standing by the window looking out at the parking lot. Leonard and I went over to look out with her. The same truck on big high tires was there, and the side we could see was the passenger side this time, and when Judith opened the door, she pushed a button and a series of steps folded out of the truck and down to the ground. She came down them, hit another button, and they folded up. Smaller tires could have eliminated the steps and the money required for them, but I guess their version of Jesus liked white people to have plain hair and clothes and an expensive, big-ass, gas-guzzling truck.

  Judith closed the door and started toward our office with her son, Thomas, who came around the front of the truck and joined her.

  “I was hoping they wouldn’t show up,” Leonard said. “Hit by a car or something.”

  “That’s not nice,” Brett said.

  “Like I don’t know,” Leonard said.

  Brett sat down behind the desk, Leonard leaned against the wall, and I took a seat on the edge of the desk, near enough so I could bask in Brett’s glow.

  We listened to them climbing the stairs, and after a pause, they came in. The woman was dressed the same as yesterday, but Thomas had traded in his WHITE IS RIGHT T-shirt for a black one that had HARLEY-DAVIDSON written on it above the company’s logo.

  “Would y’all like some watermelon?” Leonard said. “I got one in the closet. I like to keep them around. I always got one at the ready. Moon pies too. Or maybe you’d like to wet your whistle with some malt liquor.”

  They looked at Leonard but didn’t respond. Sometimes that’s all you can do, ignore him. He’s kind of like a dangerous wild animal; responses only encourage them.

  Brett glared at him. Leonard gave them a little smile, like a farmer who had been caught with his finger in a duck’s ass.

  I offered them the client chairs, and they took their seats. When they were comfortable, Brett said, “Listen. We were rude to you yesterday. I don’t apologize for why I was rude, but I apologize for being rude. We take your case on, you can be assured you’ll get our best service.”

  “You won’t just take our money,” Thomas said.

  “No,” Brett said. “We won’t. First, you have a photo of Jackie?”

  Judith produced a couple from her purse and handed them to Brett. Brett looked at them, handed them to me. I had expected to see a girl with prominent teeth so extended she could eat an ear of corn through a split-rail fence, but Jackie was actually quite attractive, long, dark hair, the teeth even and white, but large. It made her kind of sexy-looking, I thought. She was probably in her early twenties in that shot, and it was obviously taken in a photo booth. The other was a picture of her and an older man, both leaning on a pickup truck. In that one she was younger, late teens, maybe, a little lost-looking, her face having yet to grow into her teeth. The guy was perhaps ten years older, or had lived a rugged life. He was big and dressed in camouflage pants and a white T-shirt. Guess a deer saw him from the belt down, he’d be invisible out there in the woods. There was about him a redneck air I always despise, a look on his face like a man that embraced ignorance as truth and lack of interest in education as a reward.

  I gave the photos to Leonard. While he looked at them, Judith began to explain about Jackie’s disappearance.

  “Fellow that’s with her,” she said, “that’s George Jeeter, over in Marvel Creek. He took up with her when she was sixteen. He’s thirty in that picture. He’d be right on thirty-five or so now. Owns a junkyard. Jackie was always good with numbers, made good grades in school. She did George’s books, or computer records, whatever it was. She wanted to be an accountant. George kicked her out, or she left him. Not clear on that, but they quit being together, we know that much.”

  “I’m presuming you went to Marvel Creek for a peek?” Brett said.

  “Did,” Thomas said. “Went over there and found Jeeter, but he claimed he hadn’t seen her, not since he let her go. Said he didn’t want to stay with her because she nagged him. I thought right then he’d done something to her.”

  “But you don’t know that for a fact?” I said.

  “No,” Thomas said. “Guess I don’t, but he’s that kind of man. He don’t go to church none, even though he’s got the right way of seeing things on certain issues.”

  “You mean he’s a racist, like you two?” Leonard said.

  “Segregationist,” Thomas said. “I ain’t got a thing against niggers—sorry. Habit.”

  “I bet,” Leonard said, and the look on his face might have made Thomas pee himself a little.

  Thomas rushed to doctor the wound. “Ain’t got nothing against you or your kind, long as we all stay in our place, same as birds do. You don’t see no mockingbird mating with a blue jay, now, do you?”

  “People aren’t birds,” I said.

  “Tommy, you are seriously stupid,” Leonard said.

  Thomas’s response to this was “No one calls me Tommy.”

  “But they must call you stupid,” Leonard said.

  Thomas edged off his chair a little, but just a little. Leonard didn’t blink. Tension in the room grew thick as cold molasses.

  “Let’s forget all that for now,” Brett said. “Judith. Give us anything you think we should know. Leonard, tuck it back in, baby. We all know who’s the man here. You’re manly too, Hap.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I wasn’t having any doubts.”

  “Well, I don’t know how to say this,” Judith said, “and I ain’t proud of it, but now and again, when her and George would split up, ’cause they did that often, she’d run with colored boys.”

  “Was she a fast runner?” Leonard said.

  “I don’t mean like track,” Judith said.

  “I know what you meant,” Leonard said.

  Brett said, “Ground rules. We will all be polite. Especially you, Leonard.”

  “She ran with colored because she knew that would bother George,” Judith said. “Or that’s what I think. She wasn’t as particular as the rest of us. She liked life a little on the trashy side.”

  I heard Leonard sigh like air going out of a punctured tire. Brett shot him a look. He twisted his mouth as if to knot it and stayed quiet.

  Brett turned her attention back to our potential clients.

  “So, you’re thinking it might not be George did her in but these colored boys, as you call them? And you, Thomas, you think i
t was George?”

  “We don’t know nothing for sure,” Thomas said. “Did, we wouldn’t need you people. But yeah, my guess is George did her in. I’d like to kill who did it myself, but I don’t want to get cross with the law. Already done that. Spent a little time in Huntsville. Another strike, I’ll be doing prison laundry for the rest of my life.”

  “You know the names of the black men she dated?” I asked.

  “Only know of one, the main one, goes by the name Ace,” Thomas said. “Me and Mom went asking around, and we didn’t find out much but that. It wasn’t like we were hanging with the same people she was hanging with.”

  “You mean the black people,” Leonard said.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Thomas said. “On the other hand, George might have done something for his honor, and maybe that’s all right, maybe I can understand that some, but still—”

  “It’s your sister,” I said, finishing his thought.

  “That’s right,” Thomas said. “Thing I want to know is if he done it. And for what reason. Hell, I’ve thought about killing her myself for breaking sacred bonds. Some things are about honor and blood.”

  “You mean she shouldn’t have crossed the color line?” I said.

  “That’s right,” Thomas said. “It’s in the Bible. You don’t do that. I got a twenty-two at the house, and I might be inclined to use it on her. I sure thought about it.”

  “It’s also in the Bible not to eat pork,” I said, “but you look like a bacon-and-eggs kind of guy to me.”

  “It was okay for Jesus to eat what he wanted,” Thomas said. “And I said I thought about it, but she was all right, except for not knowing where the boundary lines ought to be. Me and her had fun as kids. We got along good then.”

  I thought him saying how she was all right sounded about as sincere as a lion trying to talk an antelope into cuddling.

  “They did have fun,” Judith said. “They were little scamps.”

  “Tell you what,” Brett said. “I’m going to give you a pen and a tablet, and I want you to write down any information you have about Jackie and people she might know, black or white, the connections they had with her. Close friends, relatives, you name it. Not just people you might think could have done something to her but even those you feel certain wouldn’t do anything to her. Write it all down, and if you have a stray thought about this or that, something pertaining to Jackie, put that down too.”