Joe Lansdale: Bad Chili

I went back to bed and did a few buttock-tightening exercises, but just a few. Hell, I had five days before Brett might give me my second rabies shot. I didn’t want to overdo it.

I listened to the rain for a time, then rolled over, turned on the light, and tried the phone. Leonard’s number rang and rang, but he didn’t answer.

I lay on my back and thought about Leonard for a while, wondered where in hell he might be. When I wore out that line of mental inquiry, I started thinking about Brett. I wondered where she lived and how she lived and if she needed a middle-aged man in her life, about my size and disposition, with an ugly ass and a bald spot.

Probably not.

I even thought about the Boobs and Butts magazine in the drawer, but I had such a strong constitution I didn’t turn on the light and take it out for a look…

Well, just a brief one.

I finally drifted off, but the sound of hospital business jarred me awake all night. In spite of what one might think, the hospital is not a place to rest. Someone is always coming in to look in on you, or take your temperature, or someone is laughing or crying in the hall, or banging stuff around. I awoke feeling as if I had climbed Mt. Everest and fallen off, only to be discovered by an abominable snowman and taken home to his cave to be his love puppy.

I had my breakfast, which was a little better than having to chase it down myself on all fours and eat it raw. After breakfast I saw Brett again, briefly, long enough for her to take my temperature. I was going to try and talk her out of her phone number, but she seemed considerably more businesslike this morning, harried. Maybe it was the bald spot. I just smiled and spoke politely. She finished and went away, left me with her perfume again. I asked an orderly her last name, but he didn’t know it.

I waited for Brett to come back, but she didn’t show. A nurse with a face like a callused fist that had been punched through glass came in instead and insisted I have the glucose put back in my arm. I insisted it not go.

She went away in a huff and threatened to tell my doctor. I half expected Sylvan to show up, ready to paddle me.

Couple hours later another nurse came in. She was about Brett’s size, and even reminded me of her a little – without the charm, the foul mouth, and the red hair. She looked like a younger, calmer brunette sister.

I said, “You’re going to try and make me put that thing in my arm, it isn’t going to work.”

She laughed at me. “I came in to tell you Brett likes you.”

“Wow,” I said. “I feel like I’m in high school again. Next thing you know, we’ll be using you to pass notes.”

“She didn’t tell me to tell you, I just wanted you to know. She’s a friend of mine. She told me she was interested in you. She could use someone in her life. Someone that isn’t a crud. You aren’t a crud, are you, Mr. Collins?”

“Gee, I don’t think so. What’s your name?”

“Ella Maine.”

“Thanks, Ella.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did she tell you what she likes about me?”

“Your sense of humor.”

“Not my eyes? My noble chin? My dazzling smile? My throbbing pectorals?”

“Your sense of humor.”

“That beats nothing,” I said.

“Mr. Collins?”

“Yep.”

“Treat her right.”

“She gives me half the chance, I will.”

“Don’t tell her I spoke to you. It might embarrass her.”

“I don’t think she embarrasses that easy.”

Ella laughed. “Now that you mention it, neither do I.”

A few minutes after Ella departed, Charlie Blank came in. He had an expression on his face like a man who had just been told he was going to have to swallow and pass a bowling ball, then bowl a strike with it. He didn’t ask to look at my ass.

“Leonard?” I asked. “He okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know. I went by his place this morning. Knocked. He didn’t answer. Seein’ how you been callin’, not gettin’ him, I got a little nervous. I picked the lock and went in, but he wasn’t there. I looked to see anyone had stuffed him in the closets or tried to cut him up in the bathtub. No Leonard. Not even a cut-up one. The bed hadn’t been slept in, though he really ought to wash those sheets. Nothing looked out of place, but where the fuck is he? Tight as you guys are, it’s not like Leonard to go off without at least tellin’ you.”

“You think it’s foul play? That what you’re sayin’?”

“I ain’t sayin’ it’s nothin’. But…”

“But what?”

“I’m not finished here. Give me some room. That biker. One with Raul. You got a better description than you gave me?”

“I’ve never seen him. I gave you the description Leonard gave me.”

“That description included him being alive and having a head, didn’t it?”

“Say what?”

“Last night, out on Old Pine Road. Couple of motorists, alias two kids parked by the side of the road doin’ the hole-punch boogie, found a biker. His Harley had slammed into a tree, but that wasn’t what did him in. What set him back was a shotgun blast to the head. They’re gonna be pickin’ up teeth and head fragments for a few days to come. They might even find a jawbone over in Louisiana.”

“Damn.”

“Leonard owns a shotgun.”

“Now wait just a goddamn minute, Charlie. You know Leonard.”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m worried. Listen here, Hap. Leonard, he’s a little hot-tempered. You can’t deny that.”

“He’s not that hot-tempered.”

“Yeah, he is. Especially lately. What about this stuff with Raul and Raul’s boyfriend, who, I might note, is a biker? Am I right?”

“Yeah. But…”

“And you know why Leonard lost his job at the Hot Cat Club?”

“He pissed on a guy’s head.”

“That’s excessive even for Leonard.”

“He was making a point.”

“Uh-huh. What you said about Leonard sayin’ he was going to kick that kid’s ass. Remember that?”

“I don’t think he really meant it. Not really.”

“That shows some temper, don’t it? And you haven’t heard a word from him. Any of that seem right to you, partner? And this biker, it was a twelve-gauge made him the headless horseman. And like I said, Leonard owns a twelve-gauge pump.”

“So does every other Texan. Leonard also owns rifles, handguns, a collection of silverware, and a TV set. Hell, so do I. So do you.”

“I haven’t pissed on anyone’s head, nor have I threatened to kick a kid’s ass.”

“Ah-hah! But you sympathized.”

“I was kidding.”

“So was Leonard.”

“You weren’t so sure.”

“You don’t even know it’s the same biker.”

“True. But after I went by Leonard’s, didn’t find him, heard about this biker, I went back and looked in Leonard’s closet. Twelve-gauge wasn’t there. You and I both know that twelve-gauge isn’t one he takes out much. Got it from his uncle, who got it from his father, or some such thing. Uncle gave it to Leonard when he was a kid. You’ve heard him talk about it. It’s an heirloom. It goes so far back it isn’t registered. Guy’s going to do something like kill a lover or a lover’s boyfriend, he might want to do it with a weapon that’s special to him.”

“I thought you were Leonard’s friend.”

“I am, Hap. That’s why I’m worried.”

“I can’t believe you came to me with this bullshit. Leonard didn’t kill anybody. Not like that, anyway. Hell, you know that.”

“There’s more. Last night, biker bar on the outside of town. The Blazing Wheel. Heard of it? Only biker bar we got. Well, some black dude with a bad attitude went in there and whupped the shit out of a biker with a broom handle. It was one serious ass whuppin’. And when the other bikers started to light down on this black dude, he knocked a couple knots on their heads and pulled a pistol. Then, when they followed him out to the car, he jerked a twelve-gauge off his car seat and pointed it at them. Shot the neon out of the Blazing Wheel sign and shot up some bikes. It looked like a fuckin’ demolition derby out there. This biker, one got the dog shit beat out of him – guess what?”