Ларри Макмертри - The Last Picture Show

Mickey Bunne came cockily over and broke the silence. "Hear you men beat the piss out of Lester," he said.

"I beat the piss out of him," Duane said quickly. "Sonny wasn't involved."

"That ain't the way Lester tells it:"

The other boys got off the fenders and began to edge around.

"He probably lied about it," Duane said. "I didn't hit him over five times, anyway. I told him to stop going with my girl."

Mickey moved a step closer. "He said you both whipped him."

"You don't really think it would take two of us to whip Lester, do you?" Sonny asked. "All he had was a bloody nose and a busted lip. If we'd both fought he wouldn't have been able to drive home, much less tell lies about it."

The Wichita boys were momentarily silent, even Mickey. What Sonny said was obviously true: it didn't take two people to whip Lester Marlow, and he hadn't been damaged much, anyway. Most of the boys didn't feel particularly unfriendly to Duane and Sonny, but that didn't matter. There had to be a fight. The Bunne brothers wouldn't go home without a fight. Fortunately Mickey Bunne was quickwitted and saw right away what tack to take.

"Who whipped him don't matter," he said. "We don't like you country boys tellin' us who to go with and who to leave alone. We like to screw country girls once in a while."

Duane was getting a little nervous. "I didn't tell him not to screw country girls," he said. "I told him not to bother Jacy. He can fuck the whole rest of this town for all I care -I'm just tired of him botherin' Jacy."

Mickey grinned. "Lester don't bother her," he said. "She laps it up. I seen her naked one time myself, out at Bobby Sheen's. She ain't bad lookin'. Who she really likes is Bobby Sheen-him and her played around all one night. I guess she's about as much ours as she is yours. I may want to go with her myself some time, you can't tell."

That was too much for Duane: he hit at Mickey, and the fight was on. It was not too bad for Duane, although Mickey beat him handily and knocked him down once,. Duane was so mad he didn't really feel the pounding he took. He was fighting for his girl, after all. Sonny was the one who suffered most. He wasn't mad at all, and he wasn't fighting for anyone in particular. Besides that, he didn't like to fight and didn't know how, whereas Jack Bunne liked it and knew how very well. It made for a painful beating.

Fortunately the Bunne brothers knew when to quit. They were not looking for trouble, just for excitement. Sonny and Duane were both standing when they quit, although Sonny wanted very much to sit down. He had a pain in his ribs.

"Well let's go, men," one of the boys said. "'The deputy sheriff's liable to come drivin' by."

"We ain't broke no laws," Jack Bunne said, not even winded, but the boys all went on and piled in the Mercury. They whooped and laughed as the car pulled away. "Motherfuckers," Duane said wearily.

Sonny walked over and sat down on the curb. One of his ears was paining him severely, and he had caught at least a couple of hard licks in the rib cage. Duane came and sat down too. They were both too winded and depressed to say anything. It was enough just to sit. The town was very quiet. From the west, far out in the pastures, they heard some hounds, so far away that their braying sounded as thin as the yapping of puppies.

"Why don't we just take off an' go someplace," Duane said. "I'm sick of this town. You're the only friend I got here, except Jacy."

"You mean go and stay gone?" Sonny asked.

"No, just for a day or two. We could go to Mexico and get back by sometime Monday."

"Reckon the pickup would make it?" Sonny asked, welcoming the prospect.

They got out their billfolds and counted their money. Saturday had been payday, and between them they had almost a hundred dollars.

"We can make it on that," Duane said. "Let's go clean up."

A few minutes later Sonny vomited all over the bathroom, but once he got the mess cleaned up he felt much better. His ear was not throbbing so badly. They put on clean Levi's and shirts and doctored themselves with aspirin, convinced they would both survive. The pickup didn't have much gas in it and they had to stop in town and wake up Andy Fanner, who had a key to one of the gas stations.

"Why you boys want to go all that way," Andy said cheerfully. "The water's buggy in Mexico."

"We'll just drink beer and tequila," Duane said.

"You need-ernt to tell me," Andy said sagely. "I been there. You get the clap you'll wish you hadn't drunk nothin'. Where you goin', Laredo?"

The boys looked at one another. They hadn't planned that far ahead; they were just going to Mexico.

"Which is the best place?" Sonny asked.

Andy wasn't positive and he didn't have a map, so they went back to the café and got one out of the glove compartment of Genevieve's old Dodge. They took it inside to read it.

"Good lord," Genevieve said, when she saw their skinned-up faces. They explained, and she sat down in a booth with them. "You all can just have the map," she said. "I ain't going far enough away that I need to worry about getting lost, I don't guess:"

"Let's go all the way to Matamoros, since we're goin'," Duane suggested. "I've heard it's about the wildest."

"Matamoros suits me," Sonny said, gulping his coffee. They could hardly believe such an adventure was before them, and they wanted to get away before something happened to stop it.

Genevieve, however, was a little dubious. She followed them out to the pickup to see them off. The streets were empty, the streetlights shining palely. The stoplight blinked red and green all to itself.

"This pickup don't look so good," she said. The boys were so eager that it made her strangely sad. "Have either of you ever been that far away before?"

"Austin's the farthest I've been," Sonny said. It was the same with Duane, and Matamoros was almost twice as far as Austin. It made them all the more eager, but to their amazement Genevieve suddenly began to cry about something, right there on the street. Sonny had been just about to start the motor when she put her elbows on the pickup window and wiped away the tears with her hand. Both boys were stricken, afraid they were going to miss the trip after all.

"Why don't you boys take my car?" Genevieve sniffed. "You'll never make it in this old pickup."

They were astonished. It was an unprecedented offer. Women were clearly beyond all understanding.

"Naw, we better go in this one," Sonny told her softly. She was looking off down the street-he had never noticed before, but she seemed lonesome.

"We might wreck yours, an' then where would we be?" he added.

"Okay," Genevieve said, hardly paying attention. Something made her breasts ache. "Wait just a minute:"

She went in the café and got a ten dollar bill out of her purse. After she had wiped her eyes with a Kleenex she took the money outside and handed it to Sonny.

"Hide that somewhere," she said. "Use it when you don't have anything else to use. I'd like for you to get back in time for your graduation:"

Both boys assured her that the money was quite unnecessary, but she pressed it on them anyway. "Sam's up there sitting on the curb," she said. "Guess he can't sleep. You might go say good-bye to him."

The boys were glad of anything that would prolong the ecstasy of departure a few more minutes. Sonny backed solemnly into the empty street and turned toward the poolhall. Sam the Lion was sitting on the curb, scratching his ankles. Sonny drove right up in front of him and leaned out the window.

"Better come go with us," he said. "We're headed for the Valley."

Astonished, Sam got up from the curb and came over to the pickup. He peered at the boys curiously.

"Going to the Valley tonight," he said. "My God." He was touched by the folly of youth and stood with his foot on the running board a moment.