Song of the Road

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Yo’re a liar!” His hamlike fists clenched as if to strike her. “I know what ya was doing in Oklahoma. I knowed where ya worked, knowed where ya lived, knowed ya didn’t get no help from that lazy whelp ya married up with. Ya didn’t have no other man then. I ain’t knowin’ ’bout while ya been here.”

  “You knew where we were, yet when your son was killed, you let the county bury him in a pauper’s grave. You miserly, miserable old buzzard! You should be very proud of yourself.”

  “He was no son to me!” he roared. “He stole money from his own pa and gambled it away!”

  Mary Lee took a deep breath. His words so closely paralleled what her mother had done to her that, despite herself, she felt a twinge of compassion for him that faded as soon as he spoke again.

  “Ya married him thinkin’ ya’d get money out of me and be livin’ on easy street. It didn’t work, did it?”

  “I never wanted anything from you then and I don’t now. I felt sorry for Bobby. You ran him down all his life, eroded his confidence, made him feel worthless. He wasn’t up to what you thought a man should be, so you ran him off.”

  “Ya know nothin’ about it, missy.”

  “I know plenty. During the year and a half I was married to him he cried many times and told me how you had humiliated him in front of the men who worked for you by telling them he wasn’t man enough to bed a woman and how you beat him when he couldn’t stay on a bucking horse!” Mary Lee’s angry voice was evidence of the hatred and disgust she had for this man. “When he fought you for taking a horse-whip to one of the Mexican women, you disowned him, threw him out.”

  “Lies! All lies! He was a liar and a thief!”

  “And whose fault was that? All his life he tried to please you but never quite made the grade.”

  “Christ, woman! Ya swallered his lies hook, line and sinker. But I ain’t carin’ what ya think. I intend to have a say ’bout that kid in your belly. You can count on it.”

  “You can count on this, Mr. Ocie Clawson. You’re a bull-headed, narrow-minded know-it-all and you’ll have nothing to say about my child. Get off my property and don’t come back. I don’t want my baby to ever set eyes on your face.”

  “Right sassy, ain’t ya? We’ll see. What’re ya goin’ to do when Bob Rosen throws ya out of here for not payin’ yore pa’s loan? Ya ain’t takin’ my grandson to no hobo camp or soup kitchen. Ain’t no Clawson — except that weak-kneed milksop ya married — been so down and out that they had to beg, and even he had enough sense to get a woman to work and support him.”

  “Get off my property, you big fat cockroach! You’re not worth the energy it would take to squash you!”

  “ ’Nother thin’,” he said, ignoring her outburst. “I hear ya got Jake Ramero livin’ out here. Get rid of him!”

  “I’ll do no such thing! He’s paid his rent.”

  “He’s a damn thief.”

  “A lot of people think he was framed.”

  “Bullfoot! He had my steers in a blocked-in canyon, the brands newly changed. The sheriff caught him.”

  “Did you see Jake take them?” Mary Lee had no idea why she was defending Jake Ramero.

  “The law said he was guilty.”

  “You saw to it, didn’t you?”

  “Damn right I saw to it!”

  “I’ll not make him move on your say-so.”

  “So that’s the way the wind blows, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lon said he’d be gettin’ in your drawers. Wal, yo’re already knocked up, so it makes no never-mind to me as long as he don’t jar my grandson outta ya.”

  “You nasty-minded old … old … devil.” Mary Lee was so angry her ears were pounding. She came within a whisker of hitting him with the broom she was holding. “Get away from me.”

  “Take care of that youngun. Hear?” Ocie Clawson made his way back around the car. He paused before he got in, and looked at her over the top. “Ya needin’ anythin’?”

  “If I did, you’d be the last to know!” Mary Lee shouted. He snorted, got in the car, backed up and turned out onto the highway.

  Angry tears blurred Mary Lee’s eyes. She didn’t see Eli until he was there taking the broom out of her hand.

  “I thought it best to stay outta sight. Old Clawson don’t like me none a-tall.”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothin’. He told his ramrod to run me off.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t do it himself. Throwing a thirteen-year-old out to starve wouldn’t bother him.”

  “I’m glad he did … now.”

  “So am I. Oh, Eli, I don’t know what to do.” She turned and leaned her forehead on the boy’s shoulder. “Money isn’t coming in fast enough to pay the bills much less pay on the mortgage. I’ve got to have three hundred dollars by the first of October or the bank will take the motor court.”

  Eli patted her back gently. “We’ll just have to figure out a way to make more money.”

  “I can’t raise the price. One man turned away because I wouldn’t rent for a dollar. And I feel guilty about not paying you anything.”

  “You’re feedin’ me, and I don’t need any cash money right now.”

  “You’ve been a godsend. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You’d a done somethin’. You ain’t no quitter.” The boy seemed embarrassed but pleased. “Speakin’ of eatin’, have ya thought about givin’ breakfast to the folks? I stopped by a place over near Albuquerque that charged two dollars a night including breakfast. ’Course I didn’t stay there. I slept in the shed.”

  “Lordy mercy, Eli, I’ve only got two hands. I couldn’t depend on Mama to help.”

  “I can do more. I can’t make biscuits, but I can do all the wash and most of the cleanin’.”

  “Do you think we could get two dollars?”

  “There isn’t another motor court within twenty miles in either direction. If we painted some signs, I bet I could get Jake to drive me down the road to put them up.”

  “No. I don’t want to be obligated to him.”

  “I could ride with him when he goes to work and walk back.”

  “If I rented the four cabins every night, which I probably won’t do, it would bring in eight dollars a day. That’s two hundred and forty dollars a month. If I could put back a hundred of it, I’d have the money to pay off the bank …”

  “See there, things will work out.”

  “— only if I can keep the cabins rented.”

  “We’d have to get signs up five miles down the road in both directions.”

  “Mr. Santez will let me put a sign up at the filling station.”

  “There’s some boards on the trash pile behind the wash-house. I could paint them white, but I’m not good at lettering.”

  “I’m not either, but I know someone who is. Trudy Bender printed all the signs when we were in school.”

  “We’ll need something that says: ROUTE 66 COURT. ROOM AND BREAKFAST—TWO DOLLARS.”

  “Oh, dear. What would I give them for breakfast?”

  “The same thing every morning. Biscuits, gravy, bacon, butter and jam.”

  “Mama doesn’t get up until almost noon, so she wouldn’t be a bother.” Mary Lee voiced her thoughts aloud. Then: “I wonder if I could get Trudy to come help a couple days a week.”

  “You won’t know till you ask.”

  “Oh, Eli, do you think it would work?”

  “You won’t know till —”

  “— you try,” Mary Lee finished, and they both laughed. She hugged the blushing boy. “Thank you for the idea, Eli. I think I’ll try it. It’ll be sink or swim. This afternoon I’m going to talk to Mr. Morales, the lawyer, about Frank Pierce and I’ll go see Trudy.”

  Dolly came out of the bedroom while Mary Lee was getting read to go to town.

  “What’s there to eat?”

  “Eli and I had fried mush left over from breakfast.”

 
“Sh … it.” That seemed to be her mother’s word for everything. Mary Lee looked at her haggard face. Her mother was killing herself, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  “Mama, I know you took ten dollars from my purse. I was saving the money to buy things for the baby and —”

  “Shit. You’ve been gettin’ money every night for the cabins. I took my share.”

  “You’ve done none of the work.”

  “I don’t have to. I helped Scott get this place goin’.”

  “If I remember right, you did nothing but cause him trouble and heartache.”

  “Sh … it. I’m tired of your preachin’. Ain’t there no coffee?”

  “There’s tea in the icebox.”

  With hands that shook, Dolly chipped ice, then filled a glass with tea. She headed back toward her bedroom.

  “I’m going to town, Mama.”

  “Go on. Ain’t no skin off my butt where you go.”

  Mary Lee was beyond being hurt by her mother’s words. She slipped on one of the maternity dresses Rosa had sent. It hung from the shoulders, fit loosely, and had a drawstring at the waist. It was a little short for her taste, but not enough to make her uncomfortable. She put on her straw hat and picked up her purse.

  On her way to the vacant lot behind the court and the shortcut to town, she stopped to speak to Eli, who was sorting through the wood in the scrap pile behind the washhouse.

  “Have you found anything?” Mary Lee asked.

  “Yeah. Several boards that ought to do. I’ll get them ready to paint.”

  “If someone comes in, see to them before Mama does, or she’ll take the money and we’ll never see it.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on things. You ain’t ort to be totin’ much. Leave what you get at the store. I’ll get it with the wagon.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Mary Lee laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Now, why’d you go and do that for? I’ll get ya all dirty.” His voice scolded, but she knew he was pleased.

  “If my baby is a boy, I want him to be just like you.”

  “You want him to be a bum?”

  “You’re no bum! And if you say that one more time, I’ll … I’ll kiss you again … right in front of … of Jake Ramero.” It was her parting shot. She waved, crossed the vacant lot and headed for town.

  Mr. Morales listened while she explained the problems she was having with Frank Pierce.

  “He may have given Mama a little money, but I know he didn’t pay for a year. He wouldn’t have that kind of money if she rented the cabin for fifty cents a week.”

  “If she says he did, your hands are tied. She was in charge of the court at that time.”

  “What if he runs off my renters?”

  “Call the sheriff. You’d have grounds to put him out.”

  “Some of them would have left the other night if not for Mr. Ramero.”

  “I heard about it. Jake will have to be careful. I’d hate to see him sent back to prison.”

  “Why does nearly everyone dislike him? Is it because he was convicted of stealing cattle?”

  “I don’t know. It may be because he kept to himself and took no guff from anyone. He and his mother lived off and on at Ocie’s ranch. She worked in the house. He turned out to be a top-notch horse trainer. It’s said that he can teach a quarter horse to spin on a dime.”

  “Bobby had nothing good to say about him.”

  “I can see why. Ocie may have compared the two boys. Jake was a few years older, but they went to the same country school.”

  “Did Jake’s father work there too?”

  “No. His father wasn’t in the picture at all as far as I know.”

  “Mr. Clawson came to the motor court this morning. He told me to get rid of Jake.”

  “Ocie is a stubborn old fool.”

  “I’ll not do anything on his say-so anyway.” Mary Lee went to the door.

  “When is your baby due, Mary Lee?” Mr. Morales got up from behind his desk.

  “The last of September. I’ll have the bank loan paid off by then.”

  “If you need anything … something to tide you over, let me know.”

  “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

  Mary Lee went down the steep stairs to the street. The sun was so bright it almost blinded her, and she didn’t see Frank Pierce until he was in front of her. She backed up to go around him, but he sidestepped to block her way.

  “Get out of my way.”

  “Make me, Miss Prissytail.”

  “Move, or I’ll scream so loud everyone in town will hear me.”

  “Go ahead, but first ya better know ya ain’t gettin’ away with takin’ the court away from Dolly.”

  “I didn’t take it away from her. My father did. Now get out of my way.”

  “Tell that jailbird you’re screwin’ that the next time he puts his hands on me he’ll go back to the slammer.”

  “If you’re referring to Mr. Ramero, tell him yourself if you’ve got the nerve.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, you prissy-tailed bitch.”

  Mary Lee took a firm grip on her purse handle and was ready to swing it when a big woman with a well-worn Stetson crammed down on her head dug an elbow in Frank’s ribs and pushed him aside.

  “Get goin’ ’fore I stomp you into dog meat.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Bender. I was just on my way to the café,” Mary Lee said.

  “Howdy, child. I been to the store to put in an order. Let’s get on down to my place and have a glass of tea.” Ruby Bender looked over her shoulder. “Frank been botherin’ you?”

  “Now and then. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “If he gets too frisky, let Jake know. He’ll take care of him.”

  “I don’t want to do that. I’m afraid Mr. Ramero will get in trouble.”

  “Jake won’t hold back ’cause of a little trouble.”

  “How’s Trudy?” Mary Lee asked, not wanting to talk more about Jake Ramero.

  “Chipper as ever. You’ll see in a minute. She’s at the café.” Mary Lee was greeted by her girlhood friend with hugs and squeals.

  “You’re still just so pretty,” Trudy exclaimed, hugging her again.

  “And you’ve gotten blind as a bat.” Mary Lee smiled at her friend, who was barely five feet tall. It used to make Mary Lee angry when the kids in school called her Runt. Trudy’s bottom was large, her legs short and slightly bowed. She had big brown eyes, short curly hair and a sweet smile that showed dimples in both cheeks.

  “My sister, Ardith, had a baby. I’ve been out at the ranch helping out or I’d have been out to see you. Oh, and I’m sorry about Bobby.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I heard you were going to have a baby.” Trudy’s large brown eyes darted down to Mary Lee’s stomach. “Are you excited?”

  “Excited and worried about how I’m going to support it. Thank you.” Mary Lee accepted the glass of tea Ruby brought to the long table at the back of the café.

  The two friends spent a pleasant half hour reminiscing before Mary Lee mentioned that she wanted to start serving breakfast to the guests who stopped at the motor court.

  “I’ll not do it if it means taking business away from you, Mrs. Bender.”

  “Pshaw! I don’t get much breakfast business off the highway. You go ahead and do it.” Ruby wiped her hands on her apron and added a dash of hot sauce to the chili she was cooking.

  “Do you work here every morning, Trudy?”

  “Only once in a while. I work mostly at suppertime.”

  “Would you consider coming out to the court a few mornings a week to help me get started?”

  “I don’t even have to consider it. I’d love to.”

  “I can’t pay you much.”

  “That we’ll talk about later.”

  “You know that Mama … will be difficult. I’ll be worried sick that she’ll come out of her room and be nasty.”

  “Between the two of us we shoul
d be able to handle her. When do you want to start?”

  “Tomorrow? We have signs to paint and put up, the kitchen to clean and rearrange.”

  “I can help you until noon. How’s that?”

  “Oh, Trudy, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Chapter 8

  LATE IN THE AFTERNOON, a half mile from the motor court, a car went out of control and flipped over on its side, spilling household goods along the highway. The two people in the car were taken to the doctor in Cross Roads. A deputy sheriff came out and stopped the traffic.

  Cars and trucks and even a bus were backed up as far back as the motor court. Some of the people got out of their cars as they waited for the wreck to be hauled off the highway, and walked up to the motor court for a drink of water.

  Mary Lee stayed in the house. Eli talked to the travelers while pumping a bucket of water from the deep well that had been on the place as long as she could remember. He seemed to be more sure of himself, not quite as shy as when she first found him in the washhouse.

  After the four cabins were rented for the night and the No Vacancy sign turned on, Mary Lee washed her hair. She was sitting on the back steps, combing out the tangles and enjoying the evening, when Jake’s truck turned into the lane in front of the cabins. He lifted his hand in greeting. Mary Lee nodded.

  “Trudy will bring her sign-painting brush when she comes out tomorrow,” she said to Eli, who was painting the boards he had selected for the new signs.

  “The background paint should be dry by then.”

  “She’s going to help me clean and rearrange the kitchen. We have six chairs. We may need to use the old chair in the washhouse. We’ll have to scrub it down and get it ready.”

  “It’s wobbly, but I think I can fix it.”

  “Trudy’s mother suggested that we charge ten cents extra for two breakfasts if it’s for a husband and wife. For two men, twenty cents each. Do you think that’s too much? You can get a steak dinner for thirty-five cents.”

  “I don’t think so. They couldn’t get two meals uptown for that.”

  “It’s what Ruby said. We can try it and if it doesn’t work we’ll have to stop. Oh, Lord. I hope it works. That three hundred dollars hanging over my head is driving me crazy.”