Can't Find My Way.

Billy sat in his favorite place in any bar, a far corner with his back to the wall, so he could watch the entire room. That way he could be ready for anything that presented itself. He sipped at his Corona. He absolutely hated and despised the shit, but it seemed to be the house beer and when he asked for Budweiser, the waitress just stared at him. In the chair beside him was Elmore, so exquisitely slopped it didn't matter what he drank.

Elmore:  Y'all oughta be back there, Bill.  Was me, I'd be.  Ain't no way
I'd be leavin' Beth there all by her lonesome.

Billy:  How many times I gotta tell ya, Elmore, Beth ain't the one.  It's
my girl!

Elmore:  Thought Beth was...aw, yeah...it's t'other one, ain't it?

Billy:  Yeah, it's the other one.

Elmore:  What she got?  She catch pregnant?

Billy:  She don't think so, Elmore.  I wish that's all it was.  I guess I
could put up with a mini-punk, as long as it's mom's there t'change its
pants.

Elmore:  So, Bill, whatsa deal?  Ya gotta squeeze in Lubbock and you're down
here gettin' plowed.

Billy:  Naw, Elmore..you're gettin' smacked.  I don't seem t'be able t'get
drunk t'save my life.

Elmore:  So, let's gwan home.

Billy:  Wish I could, Elmore.  I know I oughta...but I don't know if I can.

Elmore:  C'mon, Billy...girl loves ya.

Elmore clumsily sprinkled salt over his hand, the bowl of limes and
most of the rest of the table.

Billy:  What in hell ya doin', boy?

Elmore grinned goofily, licked salt off his hand, ate most of the meat
of a quartered lime and chugged the rest of his beer.  Another one arrived
as fast as he drank off the last one.

Elmore:  Drinkin' beer.  Why cantcha go home, s'yer house.

Billy let his head bounce off the wall.  He allowed his eyes to drift,
and they landed on a pair of extremely big boys at the other end of the
bar.  He started to get an idea.

Billy:  I know that, Elmore.  But...hell, I don't even know how to explain
it.  All I know is, if I think about the shit, I wanna beat hell outa 
somebody, so's I can stop thinkin' about it.

Elmore:  You wanna kick some ass, I'm there, son.

Billy:  S'why I brought ya, boy.  What the hell are you doin' to that
damn beer?

Elmore was carefully funnelling salt into his beer bottle.  He had
already managed to force most of a lime down through the narrow neck.

Elmore:  Gotta have salt 'n lime if I'm gonna drink this pisswater, son.

Billy's chaos-meter had tripped.

Billy:  Gimme that shit!

Billy snatched the bottle out of Elmore's unprotesting hand and heaved
it across the room.  As Billy had planned, it narrowly missed the two big 
boys who had taken places at the end of the bar and splashed them with beer,
salt and lime chunks when it shattered against the wall.  Billy and Elmore
were waiting, a formidable reception committee, when the two stormed over
to demand apologies and a round.  They had what should have been a very
satisfying brawl.  But Billy wasn't satisfied.  There was a little voice in
the back of his head, his survival instinct, and it was screaming at him to
go back home.  Now.

Billy:  Dammit, shut up, shut up, shut up!!

Elmore:  Ain't said nothin' Bill.

Elmore was soaking his skinned knuckles in the sink while Bill examined
an interesting cut just above his beard line...beard line?  When the hell
had he grown a beard?

Billy:  Where's this shit come from, Elmore?

Elmore:  Y'ain't shaved in a week, son.  Whatcha think's gonna happen?  Way
I hear tell, your lady likes beards.  Oughta prime her up.

Billy:  Don't take much to prime her.

The voice in his head quieted to a whisper, apparently because Deb was
uppermost in Bill's thoughts.  How many times had he felt gentle fingers or
soft kisses on his freshly shaven cheek?

Billy:  Goddam...how long?  How long?

Elmore:  Grows in fast.  Three, four days.

Billy:  Not this, Elmore.  My girl...how long did she...

He stopped, unable to continue.  He might have used the word 'love' to
Deb and he undoubtedly would again, but not in front of Elmore.  Never in
front of Elmore.  Not even in conversation.  Elmore would blab, and there
were people who didn't need to know that he'd succumbed to this particular
weakness.

Billy:  ...how long did she care for me, wait for me and I didn't know, or
didn't see, or wouldn't see?

Elmore:  Don't matter, Bill.  Y'see now.  She like beards?

Billy:  Loves 'em, damn near creamed herself over Bully Hayes.  Damn things
itch.

Elmore:  Wimmen're funny that way.

Elmore had a way of cutting to the chase sometimes, even if he came to
it by way of the back door.

Elmore:  S'don't cut 'er now, Bill.  Time for bed, git it in th' mornin'.

Billy stroked his jaw reflectively, stared at himself in the mirror.  He
couldn't stand the way the beard made him look, too much like a damn old
mountain man, but Deb would love it.

Billy:  Maybe I won't cut off...not till she sees it, anyhow.

Elmore grinned, Sunny Jim even with a rapidly darkening shiner and a
split lip.  It must have hurt him to do it.

Elmore:  Won't hurt nothin', an' y'all can make y'self some brownie points 
with th' little lady, specially if she likes beards that much.  Have an
armload in the sack all right.

Billy:  I always have an armload in the sack...

The voice had been clamoring, and it silenced itself again.  Billy 
considered her - tall, solidly built, nothing he'd ever thought he might
want physically.  How had he ever wound up with this tempermental amazon
in his bed?  They had been e-mail pals at first.  Beth had suggested he
fire off a note to a new e-mail friend of hers who was impressed with his
skill at film reviewing.  She had to have been thinking that, if he found
somebody else to hassle, he would leave her alone.  At first he and Deb had
been nothing more than sparring partners, thinking of oneliners to throw
at each another.  Then, starting around Memorial Day, on his annual trip
home to tend his parents' grave, he had stopped in on her while she tried
to do an interview for her fool webpage.  Her frustration had been comical,
and he had resolved to keep it up, simply because it was fun to see her 
yell.  Then things snowballed.  She went from being an amusing sideline to
being one of his girls, somebody he had to rescue.  He went from having 
ambiguous feelings for her physically to having a raging desire for her.
She demanded, and he agreed to her being his only partner - and when he
backslid, she punished him appropriately.  Then she was kidnapped, injured
and helpless thousands of miles away from him, and he knew he had fallen.
She had done the one thing he had sworn no woman would do, she had taken
his heart.  And then she had made him admit it.  And now it looked like she 
might be sick...and he had run away.  It had taken months for him to grow
attached to her, and at the first sign of adversity, he had beat feet like 
a damn baby.

Billy:  Aw, shit, Elmore - I got to go.

Elmore:  Been tellin' ya that, Bill.  Hell, I c'n get just as drunk in 
Lubbock and do it for free.  On real beer.

Billy:  Lone Star?  Real beer?

Elmore:  Ain't this cucaracha piss I been drinkin'.

Billy:  Ready now, or you wanna wait until mornin'?

Elmore:  Better wait, man.  I ain't in no condition to drive and you're
bushed.

Billy admitted that this was so, and the two men finished up their minor
first aid activities and went on to bed.  Elmore went to sleep instantly,
there was something childlike about his ability to get on with things once
he'd come to a decision, but then Elmore was a relatively uncomplicated
soul.  Billy was asleep almost as fast, for different reasons.  He finally
felt peaceful in himself - the nagging, bitching voice of his survival sense
had finally been silenced.  He had found what he needed, and decided what
he had to do to keep it.


TO BE CONTINUED...