Cormac McCarthy - Cities of the Plain

That part of the ranch was long gone and the rest would soon follow. He drank the last of his coffee cold in the cup and lit his last cigarette before bed and then he rose from his chair and turned off the light and came back and sat smoking in the dark. A storm front had moved down from the north in the afternoon and it had turned off cold. No rain. Maybe in the eastern sections. Up in the Sacramentos. People imagined that if you got through a drought you could expect a few good years to try and get caught up but it was just like the seven on a pair of dice. The drought didnt know when the last one was and nobody knew when the next one was coming. He was about out of the cattle business anyway. He drew slowly on the cigarette. It flared and faded. His wife would be dead three years in February. Socorro's Candlemas Day. Candelaria. Something to do with the Virgin. As what didnt. In Mexico there is no God. Just her. He stubbed out the cigarette and rose and stood looking out at the softly lit barnlot. Oh Margaret, he said.

JC PULLED UP in front of Maud's and got out and slammed the truck door and he and John Grady went in.

Yonder come two good'ns, said Troy.

They stood at the bar. What'll you boys have, said Travis.

Give us two Blue Ribbons.

He got the bottles out of the cooler and opened them and set them on the bar.

I got it, said John Grady.

I got it, said JC.

He put forty cents on the bar and took the bottle by the neck and swigged down a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned against the bar.

You put in a hard day in the saddle? said Troy.

I'm mostly a nightrider, said JC.

Billy stood bent over the shuffleboard sliding the puck up and back. He looked at Troy and he looked at JC and then he slid the puck down the hardwood alleyway. The pins at the end swung up and the strike light lit up on the scoreboard and the small bells counted up the score. Troy grinned and put the cigar he was smoking in the corner of his mouth and stepped forward and took the puck and bent over the board.

You want to play?

JC'll play.

You want to play, JC?

Yeah, I'll play. What are we playin for?

Troy scored a strike on the bowling machine and stepped back and popped his fingers.

Me and JC'll play you and Askins.

Askins stood by the machine with one hand in his back pocket and the other holding a beer. Me and Jessie'll play you and Troy, he said.

Billy lit a cigarette. He looked at Askins. He looked at JC.

You and Troy play them, he said.

Go on and play.

You and Troy play. Go on.

What are we playin for? said JC.

I dont care.

Make it light on yourself.

What are we playin for, Troy?

Whatever they want to play for.

We'll play for a dollar.

High rollers. Get your quarters up. Jessie, you in?

I'm in, said Jessie.

Billy sat on the stool at the bar next to John Grady. They watched while the players put their quarters in the machine. The numbers rolled back and the bells chinged. Troy poured powdered wax from a can onto the alley and slid the puck back and forth and bent to shoot. Bowlin school is now open, he said.

Show us somethin.

You'd be surprised what all you can learn from a experienced player.

He slid the puck down the boards. The bells rang. He stepped back and popped his fingers. Things, he said, that will stand you in good stead all your life.

I need to talk to you, said John Grady.

Billy blew smoke across the room. All right, he said.

Let's go back in the back.

All right.

They took their beers and walked to the rear of the place where there were tables and chairs and a bandstand and a polished concrete dancefloor. They kicked back two chairs and sat at one of the tables and set their bottles down. The place was dim and musty.

I'll bet I know what this is about, said Billy.

Yeah. I know.

He sat peeling the label from his beerbottle with his thumb nail while he listened. He didnt even look up at John Grady. John Grady told him about the girl and about the White Lake and about Eduardo and he told him what the blind maestro had said. When he'd finished Billy still hadnt looked up but he'd stopped peeling the beerlabel. He didnt say anything. After a whilehe took his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one and laid the pack and his lighter on the table.

You are shittin me aint you? he said.

No. I guess I aint.

What the hell's wrong with you? Have you been drinkin paint thinner or somethin?

John Grady pushed his hat back. He looked out across the floor. No, he said.

Let me see if I got this straight. You want me to go to a whorehouse in Ju++rez Mexico and buy this whore cash money and bring her back across the river to the ranch. Is that about the size of it?

John Grady nodded.

Shit, said Billy. Smile or somethin, will you? Goddamn. Tell me you aint gone completely crazy.

I aint gone completely crazy.

The hell you aint.

I'm in love with her, Billy.

Billy slumped back in his chair. His arms hung uselessly by his side. Aw goddamn, he said. Goddamn.

I cant help what it sounds like.

My own damn fault. I never should of took you down there. Never in this world. It's my fault. Hell, I dont even know what I'm complainin about.

He leaned and took his lighted cigarette from the tin ashtray where he'd put it and took a pull on it and blew the smoke across the table. He shook his head. Tell me this, he said.

All right.

What in the goddamn hell would you do with her if you did get her away from down there? Which you aint.

Marry her.

Billy paused with the cigarette half way to his mouth. He put it down again.

Well that's it, he said. That's it. I'm havin your ass committed.

I mean it, Billy.

Billy leaned back in the chair. After a while he threw up one hand. I cant believe my goddamn ears. I think I'm the one that's gone crazy. I'm a son of a bitch if I dont. Have you lost your rabbitassed mind? I'm an absolute son of a bitch, bud. I never in my goddamn life heard the equal of this.

I know. I cant help it.

The hell you cant.

Will you help me?

No and hell no. Do you know what they're goin to do with you? They're goin to hook your head up to one of them machines and throw a big switch and fry your brains to where you wont be a menace to yourself no more.

I mean it, Billy.

You think I dont mean it? I'm goin to help em hook up the wires.

I cant go down there. He knows who I am.

Look at me, son. You're not makin no sense. What the hell kind of people do you think it is you're talkin about? Do you really think you can go down there and dicker with some greaser pimp that buys and sells people outright like you was goin down to the courthouse lawn to trade knives?

I cant help it.

Will you quit sayin that, goddamn it? What the hell do you mean you cant help it?

Just let it go. It's all right.

It's all right? Shit.

He slumped in the chair.

You want another beer? No, I dont. I want a goddamn quart of whiskey.

I dont blame you for not wantin no part of it.

Well I'm glad as all hell to hear that.

He shook a cigarette out of the pack.

You got one lit, John Grady said.

Billy paid him no mind. You got no money, he said. So I dont know how in the hell you propose to go shoppin for whores.

I'll get it.

Get it where?

I'll get it.

How much were you plannin to offer him?

Two thousand dollars.

Two thousand dollars.

Yeah.

Well. If there was any doubt at all there sure aint now. You've gone completely crazy and that's all there is to be said about it. Aint it?

I dont know.

Well I do. Where in the hell, where in the goddamn hell, do you think you're goin to get two thousand dollars at?