by Wade Miller
The music stopped just when Biggo was ready to tell the fellow to turn it down. A Mexican announcer spoke. "X-E-R-B in the Rosarito Beach Hotel, Baja California. We bring to you a late news flash. Ensenada…"
Jinny had something more to say but Biggo gripped her arm.
"… death was reported tonight of the well-known American gambler, Thomas Jaccalone. Mr. Jaccalone, lately a resident of Mexico City, succumbed to a heart attack aboard a friend's pleasure yacht in Todos Santos Bay…"
The convertible moved on. Biggo looked at Jinny. Then he laughed. "By God! The excitement was too much for him. He got what he'd been wanting and it was too much for him." He laughed again.
She asked, "What strikes you so funny about it?"
He chuckled harshly. "The way it is funny, that's all. The war's over and it might as well never been fought." He wrenched his head away from her gaze and stared out through the windshield of Hardesty's car, not seeing anything ahead. "It's never been different, wherever I went, that's the joke." Toevs, Zurico, even Hardesty-all wasted for nothing. He began to laugh again.
Jinny got scared. She grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull his head around. "Don't laugh like that, please, Biggo. Don't!" Then she was saying, "Don't go to China, Biggo. Please don't go to China or anywhere. Not after this afternoon. Can't you go somewhere where we can get drunk once in a while, where I can hold you? I like holding you and you like being held, tell me you do. Oh, honey, you don't want to go to China, do you?"
He looked at her close pleading face. He said the words before he really knew he meant them. "No, I don't want to go to China."
"You've done so much fighting, honey. You've got a right to stop. Don't go away and get hurt again."
"No, I don't want to," he said and this time he knew what he was saying. "I've done enough. My time's past. There's not much use for animals like me any more. Where'll we go? Scribner?"
"No, no," she said and patted his leg excitedly. "Some place that's new to both of us. Say, a farm somewhere. Apple farm. I love apples."
"Oregon," said Biggo. They were both a little lightheaded, both wanting to laugh now, at themselves and for themselves. A horn blared behind them uselessly. "We can pick up a pretty little farm up there-hear it's wonderful country. We got a good beginning, twenty thousand dollars and a family Bible and us…"
He hugged her and she kissed back hard but she was wincing when they came out of it. She said happily, "You big ox, we've got a long time to do that in. How about getting me and my souvenir to the doctor?"
The gate was clear ahead. Behind them the honking started again and Biggo leaned out and yelled back, "Keep your bloody shirt on, you son of a dog!" He drove into the customs gate and they answered the questions about where they were born and said they hadn't bought anything in Mexico. Then they were passed through.
eBook history
B. (scanning and OCR) and P. (formatting and proofing) edition.