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Beth: I hate this...I absolutely hate this with a passion! Deb: How'd he get you? Beth: Age and treachery will overcome youth and skill. He broke something off in my doorlock, and when I went to get the caretaker...there he was! Deb: What a crumb! What an ass! Sam finds out about this little stunt Mount Everest won't be big enough for me to hide under! Beth: What about me? Deb: What ABOUT you? You have the Dawg eating out of your hand. He'll be on my tail for dragging you into it. Beth: Dragging me into what? That's what I don't understand. I know we're here on the Mexican Autobahn... Actually a substandard highway littered with roadkill and Pemex stations... Beth: ...beating holy hell out of this Expedition. I'm told to ride with you so the unbalanced look on your face is easily explained, and I'm not to look in the back seat. What'd he put back there? Deb: How's this for shit? We're running guns now. Beth's face made a concerted effort to slide off her skull into her lap. Beth: And you agreed? Deb: Not right away! Beth: So how long did it take him? Deb: Not long. Beth: How did he get around you? Deb: Well...he put on his reasonable face and called me baby a lot and gave me a back rub and played with my hair some... Beth: You're pathetic. Deb: I know. Beth: You are absolutely, tragically pathetic. I think it's important to establish, once and for all, the fact that you are really and truly just about as pathetic a person as I have ever seen. Billy Strannix plays with your hair and calls you baby and you cave right in. Deb: I agree. I should be slapped. Beth: You're hopeless. Deb: You're right. Beth: You're a lost cause. Deb: I know. I don't deserve to call myself a woman. I'm a sack. Beth: A limp one. How'd you like Bully? Deb: Want the truth? Beth: Did he play with your hair and call you baby? Deb: No, but he shoved me up the mainmast with his hand planted in my butt and he wouldn't let me go to bed because he stood by my cabin door and if I hadn't thought I was assuming a lot I would have sworn he was waiting for me to ask him in and I might have even liked him better if I HAD asked him in because that boy is put together and I am a sucker for a beard. Beth: Don't tell Billy. Deb: I have no intention. But I could have done without the Billy/Bully crap all day long. Beth: That must have been a trial. What is all that garbage back there? Beth was referring to the untidy piles of bright skirts and blouses, the cheap souvenirs and guidebooks and blankets and t-shirts that said 'Property of Kingston Jail Athletic Department' that Billy and Bully had tossed in over the footlockers containing the guns. Deb: That garbage is meant to hide the shit. Beth: Makes sense. What do we do with it? Deb: For all I know we lay it out in the street in front of Billy's house so it says asshole. Beth: I wouldn't be caught dead wearing any of it. I'd look like a bag lady. Deb: No self-respecting bag lady would be caught dead in any of that. We might have to sell it once we hit Brownsville. We're gonna need money to get to Lubbock. Billy told me to stop at Tommy's to dump the guns. Beth: I suppose it's safe to assume Tommy knows nothing about this? Deb: Safe as houses. Man never should have told Strannix he was gonna be away. You wanna drive for a while, my leg's cramping up since I don't dare use the cruise on this four-star highway here. Beth: Sure. Just go ahead and pull into this gratuitously placed Pemex station. What do you mean, we'll need money? Deb: Billy gave me pesos. Said he wasn't gonna give me dollars and have me get my ass ripped off. So he gives me a damn old truck full of these things...look at this...I just stuffed them in my purse. Probably worth about five bucks. Beth: A prince among men, our Billy. Do me a favor...e-mail Sam and let him know I'm okay. Deb: Your wish is my command, even though I don't really want him knowing where I'm at. I pulled out the laptop and busied myself for a few minutes. Deb: How's this: Sam - having a miserable time, wish you were here - Beth. PS - this sux - Deb. Beth: Good enough. There was a huge line up at the border station. The Mexican border guards were conducting cursory searches of the vehicles - they seemed tremendously unconcerned about what people were taking out of their country, and that included portions of the population. They glanced at the crud in the cargo bay and all but yawned at it. They did advise me to stop at a bank in Brownsville and exchange my pesos for dollars, then they waved us on through. Beth was driving again, and she spotted something off beyond the border and alongside the road. Beth: Oh, no. Look over there. Deb: What...Ryan? Where'd he come from? Beth: Where's he ever come from? Looh, he's waving. Deb: I'm not waving back. Dork left me high and dry in San Antonio. You're not gettin'in my truck, you damn old bogtrottter. Beth: No, he won't get in your truck. But he'll climb right up in Billy's truck. Deb: Thanks for that smack in the teeth. Beth: You're welcome. Good afternoon, Officer... They were moving them through this afternoon. It was already our turn. Guard: What do you have in the back of the truck, ladies? Beth: Just out clothes. Personal possessions. I thought I would do better to let Beth talk whenever possible. I nodded energetically when the guard lookd at me. Guard: Seems to be an awful lot for just two people. Don't you have any suitcases? Beth: Not anymore. We overpacked, I guess. They just fell apart. We had to carry the stuff off the boat in our arms. Guard: Boat? Beth seemed to have run out of her line. I jumped in. Deb: We'd been to the islands, Officer. On a singles cruise. Went on single, got off single. Them's the breaks. Gusrd: Where'd you get off? Deb: Guadalajara. We got a cheaper rate picking up the boat there. Kind of a shady deal, I know...but when you're single girls, you need to watch your pennies. Guard: Mind if I take a look? Beth: No sir, go right ahead. And if he dug down far enough he would find the footlockers. If he opened the footlockers he would find the guns. If he found the guns... Deb: Please. Nothing to see but a lot of grungy old clothes. Grungy was the word. Billy and Bully had bought everything in flea markets. Guard: Nothing to declare? We fought hard to look neutral. Beth: No, sir. Not a thing. The Border Guard opened the tailgate of the truck, poked around. I had an insane vision of Tommy as Agent K pulling up and revealing...something unexpected...but before I could burst out laughing I managed to stifle it. The Guard shut the tailgate and did a cquick walk-around. I was holding my breath. Beth kept her hands on the wheel so they wouldn't shake. Strannix was a dead man. Guard: Welcome home, ladies. Drive carefully and have a good trip. Beth: Thank you, we will. I managed a nod and a grin. Beth drove away from the border crossing withoug flooring the damn thing. About a quarter of a mile away we had to stop. both os us started yelling, and we continued to yell when Ryan loped up and climbed in the back seat. Ryan: My loves...I've missed you both! Beth: How's Jade? Ryan was expansive. He was also in my purse. Ryan: My lovely Jade is her usual self...intense and committed... Deb: You mean she needs to BE committed! Get out of there, damn you! Ryan: Why, Deb...I'm hurt! Beth, Darlin', stop for that lad there, yes that one. I need to gather this rubbish up. Didn't you read your e-mail from William? Deb: What e-mail? Put that down! Don't talk to me! You flaked off on me in San Antonio, you bug. I couldn't see what I was doing! Ryan: Ah, young love... Deb: I'm gonna poke you. What e-mail you talkin' about, Gaerity? Despite my best efforts to slap Ryan away from my purse, he reached into it and removed the laptop. He got into the e-mail program and pulled up the note in question. It began with a rather overt sexual reference, which I quickly scrolled past, and then I read on. We had been instructed to give the pesos to the boy Ryan had pointed out. He was holding American money for us, and the pesos would be his tip for doing so. Billy ended by cautioning me to keep it wet and if there was more I didn't see it because I logged out of the e-mail. Ryan: Here, Beth love, I'll drive. You look about done up. Beth pulled over a second time. Ryan made the money exchange, then he took the driver's seat. Beth stretched out across the back seat and fell asleep fairly quickly. I continued hunched up in the passenger seat, glaring out the window. Ryan: Lass, I'm sorry about San Antonio...I had no idea you were so confused... Deb: Oh, be quiet, that's not it. I guess I managed okay. I always go through withdrawl when I leave Billy. How was your visit? Ryan: Very nice, lass, very restful. I wish you two could meet my Jade. I think you'd like her. Deb: Maybe we will someday. But tell me how in the world a dedicated terrorist like yourself could fall in with an artist... Ryan: We're both committed to similar things when you think about it, lass. Deb: How's that? You blow shit up and she comes along with a grant from the National Endowment from the Arts and throws up a sculpture before they can put up another government building...or something useful like a parking lot? Don't answer that, Ryan. I was being a smartass, but I wouldn't understand. I suppose it's more like she wants to create beauty and you're trying to create order... Ryan: I don't need to explain it. You know me too well, Darlin'. Funny how I always found Ryan so calming when the rest of the world was left running around in circles and panicking whenever he surfaced. Ryan: So, what were you so upset about, Lass? Deb: Nothing important, Ryan. Bully Hayes had me all messed up and then Billy rolled in and laid claim so he was all over me like lint on a cheap blanket and you can about imagine how that went over... Ryan: No complaints? Deb: None. Nada. Zero. Ixnay on the itchingbay. Then I found my buggy, here had been brought round the gulf coast from Miami by some twit named Elmore Pratt...what the hell kind of name is Elmore Pratt... Ryan: Sounds like you'd like to give him a boot in the prat. Deb: You're not kidding. So this Elmore - effing - Pratt sets every one of the radio stations in this car to some kind of shitkicking noise or another...we picked up one just the other side of the border and it stands to reason the bonehead would do it to them all... Ryan was laughing now. My ranting had that effect on people, for some reason. Deb: Some chickenshit yowlin' about how a five foot three inch filly made a stallion out of six foot me or some damn thing. I wanted to yank the thing out of the dash bit I'm not strong enough. And I'm running guns! Me...little middle class nothing me, running guns for God only knows what, and all Strannix had to do to get me to do it was...was be nice to me. I'd have ridden a bomb just like Slim Pickens did at the end of Dr Strangelove... Ryan: You're feelin' taken advantage of? Deb: Big time. Watch me, he says. All I see is a five year old with some serious destructive tendencies. I don't need sonnets or anything...but it would be nice if he'd...if he'd let me...hear things. I'm a woman! I need to hear things once in a while. Ryan: Hear what? Deb: What he wants, where I fit in. God knows he'll never admit how he feels and if he does he'll load it up with a bunch of other crap. Ryan: As long as you know that, why do you continue to want it? Deb: Can't help myself, Ryan. Ryan: Then don't hold your breath. Deb: I won't. I don't look good in blue. I'm done venting, Ryan. Thanks for putting up with me even after I was rude to you. Ryan: Happy to be of service, Darlin'. Why don't you try and sleep? Deb: Don't know if I can. It's just that Billy went freom being a hoot on a television screen to something I need if I want to keep drawing air. And he's like every other man I ever know...he doesn't need me. Ryan: I wouldn't be so sure, Lass. You just take a nap. You'll feel better when you wake up. That's right, go on now... We must have slept and awakened and slept a couple of times, while the tireless Ryan drove straight through from Brownsville to San Saba with little more than a potty break now and then. We had to make him stop in San Antonio for food, and then it was just a drive through. It was deep dark when we got to Tommy's. Beth: Stop, Ryan. Look, the lights are on in the big house. Deb: Oh, crap. You think he's home? Beth: Might be. Msybe they give them breaks in filming, let 'em go home for a few days if they're not gonna need 'em. I reached into the depths of my cavernous purse and removed a spyglass. Beth: What in hell? Where'd you get that? Deb: Stole it from Bully. He can get another one. Here, Ryan, open the moonroof. Beth, you look. Ryan: What in hell are you two up to? Deb: Just hit the switch like I said. Ryan flipped the moonroof open and Beth and I popped out into the humid night. Beth raised the spyglass to her face, stared intently at the main house. Beth: I think he's home. I think I see him. Deb: No way in the world I'm goin' in there. Beth: You look. I could be wrong. Deb: Where is he...big bugger, white shirt, faded jeans...aw shit, it's gotta be him. Beth: Why? Deb: Looks like he's carvin' the end off a bratwurst. No freaking way I'm going in there now...he's got that baby flamethrower out. Beth: I'm with you, not a...HEY!! Ryan had put the Expedition in gear and was pulling up the long driveway. Beth and I dropped back through the moonroof and began berating him. He ignored us. and parked the truck in the turnaround. He got out and stood by the door, yelling. Ryan: Tommy! You home, lad?! Beth: Shut up, shut up, shut up!!! Deb: Button your trap, Gaerity! God, we're shot now! Beth cringed in her seat and I fought an urge to crawl under the trash in the back. Funny. We could face down Sam Gerard and Billy Strannix with perfect composure, deal calmly ith the likes of Ryan Gaerity, Two-face Harvey Dent, Bully Hayes, Roy Foltrigg and anybody else chance threw at us. But confront us with Tommy Lee Jones and we both had the same reaction - no way, I can't do this. Too late. Tommy was on his way out. Tommy: Ryan Gaerity! Say, boy, been a long time! Tommy and Ryan shook energetically. Beth and I were both watching this rather curious ritual. Beth: I swear I will never umderstand why men need to rattle each other like that. Deb: What'd you say that one time...shut 'er down, Clyde, she's pumpin' mud. Tommy and Ryan were apparently satisfied that neither was armed to the teeth. Tommy turned to the truck, and us. Tommy: Beth, is that you? Come on out, it's good to see you again, Darlin'. And that has to be Deb. I'd know you even if it was dark, last time I saw you it WAS dark. What are you two hidin' from. Hope it's not me. Beth glanced around the seat at me. Did we tell him the truth? Hell, no. Ryan: Come on out, the both of you. Tommy pulled the back door open and extended his hand to a certain shaking little rabbit-like female, then stepped around to the door Ryan had opened and did the same for Beth. We both stood uneasily next to these hugely vital men. Beth: We didn't expect to find you home. Tommy slipped his arm around Beth's shoulder and pulled her close. Before I had time to wonder if I should be envious or relieved, he had drawn me under the other arm. Tommy: Come on in...hungry? Ryan: We stopped earlier, lad. Beth: Burger King. Phhht. Deb: We wanted McDonalds. But he said he wasn't going to put so much as a penny into the pocket of any damned Orangeman. Tommy was leading us into the house...and he never once took his hands off us. Beth's term 'actively touching' was absolutely correct. Not only were his hands always on us, but they were always moving in a comforting sort of way. Tommy: How 'bout a beer? Ryan: Guinness? Deb: He asked hopefully. Ryan: Quiet, you. Tommy: Sam Adams. Ryan: When will you Yanks learn to drink proper beer? Beth: At least it's not Heineken. Deb: Beth, please don't curse, it's damn unbecoming. Ryan: Would you mind keeping some things for Billy and myself? Tommy: What sort of things? Deb: Just a few... Ryan slapped a hand over my mouth and hit me with a look from close range. I swallowed heavily. I wished thesr big goons would quit nailing me in the head with their hands, but I got the message all right. Shut the goddam hell up. Tommy: Not a problem, Ryan. Let me get you some help, though, so I can stay with these lovely ladies. Probably wanting to make sure he didn't lose his shirt again. Tommy: Okay, what am I keeping? Deb: Guns. Lots of guns. Illegal ones. Nasty bad. Beth: You haven't been home. You don't know anything. Tommy: He selling them? Beth: What else? Guns R Us, that's Billy. Tommy: If I do, will your Sam find out about it? Beth: Not a chance. Tommy: How long will they be here? Deb: Not long. Billy will move them as soon as it's safe. Tommy smiled, that melting smile of his, to reassure us. It was the first reassuring thing either of us had seen all day. Tommy: I can't believe I'm doing this, but don't you worry. This is safe with me. Next day, Billy's house... Beth: What do you mean, you can't go home because of Sam? Was her voice...frosty? Why not? It had sure sounded like I was ripping on Sam. Deb: I can't because he always knows when I'm there...kind of like an animal smelling fear on you? He can smell me, and then he shows up at the door and starts asking questions and I don't know what to do. So it's a lot easier on me if I just go and stay gone. Beth relaxed visibly. Did Sam know he had such loyal defense out here? Probably. Did Billy realize the kind of interference I was running for him? If he bothered to think about it, he probably expected it. Beth: So...Sam gets to you, too. Deb: Putting it mildly. He works me like a mule. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it. I know you two are trying to work around your independent natures to reach a connecting point. Me...I want a friend and a companion and a lover so bad I can taste it. Beth: Sounds like Sam's just the man. Deb: Description sure fits...but I don't want Sam, particularly. I don't think he'd like me much, not that way. He's my friend, and I don't imagine I could have a better one. He's a good companion when he's not picking my brains about Billy. I like to get him talking about you. My guess is, the man's in love. Beth's posture tightened. I wandered into the kitchen, brought back two iced cokes. Beth looked pensive. Deb: Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Beth: No...but it scares me. I want it, want him...but it all scares me. I never expected it. Deb: Must be a hell of a ride. Beth: It is that. From the basement I heard my calf bawling. Tommy had tipped us both a wink as we left his place that had left us shaken for fifty miles. Now, back in Festung Strannix it was business as usual. Beth: Better go see what he wants. Deb: Probably standing at the top of the stairs wanting me to get him a beer. If he is, I'll let him have it. Commence firing, even. I padded into the kitchen, over to the basement door which was actually still locked up like a bank vault. As I got closer, I could understand what he was hollering about. Billy: I don't need no sonofabitchin' ROGAINE!! Damn, damn, damn! Ryan: Patience, lad, while I... Boots, taking the stairs two at a time. The door, flying open. Jumping backward to keep from being mowed down, tripping over my own feet and going down on my backside. Billy striding by, coming back mostly carrying Beth. Feeling pretty superfluous then, I wandered back out into the front room. It hurt too much to sit, yet, so I stood in front of the window. After a few minutes, there was a softer step behind me and a hand on my bottom. Billy: Didn't mean to knock ya on your ass, baby. You okay? Deb: I tripped over my own big feet, Billy, it wasn't you. I'm just fine. Billy: C'mon downstairs with me. Deb: You sure? Billy: I'm sayin' it, ain't I? Come on. I gotta make sure Beth ain't down there jerkin' things around. She didn't need to be 'down there' to jerk things around. She was running the scandisk when I joined them. Ryan was busying himself rolling up the tractor paper full of spam and legitimate e-mail. As the scandisk was completing its run and Ryan was beginning the job of sorting through through the reams of paper, Beth glanced up at me. Her meaning was clear. She needed to delete her 'hassle Billy; program without his knowledge. I trotted off into the extra room, where the trapdoor was. Billy was right behind me. Billy: Hey, dammit, I said c'mon down, not stick your nose into everything. When I was hauled bodily back to the computer banks, the defrag was running and Beth's expression was innocent. She gave me a discrete thumbs up. The deed was done. I stood close to Billy after that, feeling his hand moving restlessly over my hip. I wanted to turn my face to his shoulder and stand there forever, but that wasn't an option. Later, when my cellphone was beeping, I had to move away from Billy to grab it before it could disturb him. Deb: Yeah? This better be good. Sam: Oh, it will be. Where are you, little sister? Deb: Sam? I didn't even know the stupid phone was on! What do you want? Billy: Whozzere? Deb: Go back to sleep, Billy...What, Sam? How'd you get this number? Sam: I might've asked one of your boys... Deb: Which one? Sam: But I didn't. I might've requested a court order to get your phone records... Deb: You wouldn't dare! Billy: That the Dawg? Deb: Billy, hush! Go back to sleep. Sam: No, I didn't. As it happens, I didn't have to do anything but look in my book and dial. You gave me the nember yourself. Your memory that bad? Billy: Don't hush me, baby. Billy's hands, followed most generally by Billy's mouth, were everywhere. I was acutely conscious of the phone in my hand and Sam on it as I sighed and melted under Billy's moves. Sam: Talk to me, little sister... Deb: I can't...I'm gonna go now...Billy... Sam: Listen to me, girl, come on... Billy's mouth was in a sensitive place and I wasn't listening to much at all. Sam: Stay with me, now... Deb: I can't...I'm hanging up... Sam: Don't you hang up on me, girl! His voice cracked like a whip, but I had made an empty threat. I wasn'y about to do anything that would lessen my ability to concentrate on that incredibly talented mouth. Sam: Deb...little sister...where are you? What's the address? Unbelievable! Sam was relentless, even going so far as to use Billy's presence to get me to give Billy up. I couldn't be on my guard and still be with Billy, and Billy was far more important. Sam knew that, was counting on it. Deb: Sam...I can't talk... I was feeling the beginning of the first burst, and I was utterly without defenses. Sam: The house number, the street...come on, little sister... Deb: It's...I... Billy was beside me, breathing hard. One hand continued the work begun earlier. I held on to Billy's neck. Billy took the phone out of my nerveless fingers. Billy: Keep them damn claws out of my back, baby...listen up, Dawg...you might be able to make your little sister talk, but I can make my woman sing. Later, Dawg. TO BE CONTINUED...
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