High Country : A Novel (16 page)

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Authors: Willard Wyman

BOOK: High Country : A Novel
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Missoula (1937–1941)
Ty figured out that what he learned from Spec in the mountains was a lot more useful than what he learned from Spec in Missoula.
16
The Bar of Justice

It was dark when Ty finally got there. But he found nothing barlike, just a medium-sized brick building, the porch tilted where the ground had settled. Other plain-looking brick and clapboard buildings were scattered along the street, no stores in sight at all, and only one streetlight, its glow filtering across melting banks of dirty snow. There were a few cars in front of the building. Tommy’s pickup wasn’t one of them.

Again Ty checked the address, making sure before he crossed the trampled snow and rapped on the door. A voice called, and he opened the door to see a lone man playing solitaire. The man turned his cards twice more, putting down an ace before looking up at Ty.

“Spec’s buddy?” He got the cigar going again. “Said you was green.” He went back to his cards. “There.” He jabbed over his shoulder. “Or upstairs.”
Ty was so relieved the man knew Special Hands, he didn’t think to ask any questions. He went past him into a larger room where there was a small bar against the back wall. Behind it was an open door leading to some stairs. A nickelodeon was against one wall, a few tables and chairs near it. Except for three bar stools, there was no other furniture. At one of the tables a man sat reading a paper and drinking coffee.
A woman was behind the bar, chewing gum and cleaning glasses. Ty went over to her and asked if she knew Spec.
“Know you too. Want a beer? A whiskey?” She looked him over. “How ’bout a quickie?”
She was younger than he’d thought, fleshy and pleasant faced. He wasn’t sure he’d heard what she’d said.
“Well, I’ll . . .”
“Whatever, hon. You name it. Spec said you wasn’t to pay for nothing.” She wiped the bar. “I’m Jeanie. Just say what you want.” “Would you have a Coke? It was a long walk.”
“Might.” She took a longer look at him. “Your buddy’s havin’ a good old time.” She slid him a Coke. “Told us about you.” She took her gum from her mouth as a man came in, sat at a table. “Didn’t tell us you was cute.”
She left to see what the man wanted, coming back to get a beer from the cooler. “I’ll be waitin’. Just ask for Jeanie.” She went back, put the beer in front of the man, and sat.
It was quiet as Ty sipped his Coke. He was thankful when the man got up and put some money in the nickelodeon. The music was twangy, not like Cody Jo’s, but the noise made him feel more comfortable.
Two other men came in and a big, smiling woman came out from the back, calling them by name, laughing before pouring a jigger of whiskey and opening a bottle of beer for each. The men went off to one of the tables, and a wiry woman came in and sat down with them.
“ Yo u’re Spec’s friend.” The big woman looked at Ty. “Got orders to take real good care of you.” She opened a beer, came partway around the bar to give it to him. “This here one’s on me. You just tell me what you want, hon. Beth’s the one who’ll find it.” She winked at him and went back, putting some ice in a glass and pouring whiskey over it, stirring it with her finger. “Or I’ll take you up myself.” She lifted the glass at Ty and took a sip. “You boys never take much time.”
It came to Ty then. He felt his face flushing. “Oh,” he said. He got up from the bar stool and looked at the woman. Sat back down on the bar stool again. “I didn’t know . . . Is this place called The Bar of Justice?” He looked behind him at the nickelodeon, at the tables. Jasper had told him about such a place one night in the mountains; he was sorry he’d only partly listened, thinking Jasper was into the cooking sherry again.
“Ain’t no soda fountain,” Beth smiled. “What’d you think?”
“There’s no sign. Spec just give me this address.” He still had the crumpled paper in his hand; Beth looked at it, threw it away.
“He’s a caution.” She didn’t seem too happy about Ty’s confusion.
She leaned across the bar. Ty could smell sweetish powder. “Sip on that beer there, honey. Tell me how old Fenton’s doing. He ain’t been around here since I was skinny.”
“Well,” Ty took a swallow of beer and tried to tell her about Fenton, about the mountains, watching her as he talked, not sure she understood. It was hard to keep straight what he was saying himself. The men would call out for drinks and she would be off to take care of them. She seemed to know them all, and Ty felt funny sitting there at the bar all alone with his beer, drinking it faster than he meant to.
More men were coming in. Ty saw that Jeanie was gone. But three or four other women were there now, some of them dancing with the men, their shiny dresses swinging out, showing bare legs.
He was almost through his second beer when Spec showed up, putting his arm around Beth, pulling her close. “There he is,” he said, looking at Ty. “Only bastard I know can shoe a bronc mule, cross a snowed-out pass, and keep Fenton Pardee happy all at the same time.”
“I sure didn’t do them things at the same time.” Ty looked at Beth. “Don’t believe I’ve satisfied Fenton yet.”
“She knows all about satisfying Fenton.” Spec gave Beth a squeeze. “Hustle up some of them boilermakers. Ty’s thirsty.”
“I’ll stick with these beers.” Ty didn’t know what a boilermaker was anyway. And he didn’t like something in Spec’s voice. He reached for his money but Spec grabbed his wrist.
“You ain’t spending a goddamned penny.” Spec’s voice was hard. “This is my deal.” Ty looked so surprised Spec had to smile. “Have a hell of a time, kid.” He threw crumpled bills on the bar. “Got all this money from them government people. Have a drink on them bastards.”
Beth’s eyes hadn’t left Spec. She seemed relieved when he let go of Ty’s wrist. She put two jiggers of whiskey on the bar, a beer beside each.
Spec drank his jigger in a gulp, then took a long pull of beer. “Damn.” He brought the bottle down hard on the bar.
“You don’t have to drink that fast, honey,” Beth said to Ty. “Spec’s way ain’t for everybody.”
“He’s been learning things from me in the mountains. No reason to stop here.” Spec handed Ty the other jigger. “Is there, Ty?”
Ty sipped at the whiskey, felt his lips burn.
“You boys go sit.” She put the drinks on a little tray, took them over to a table. “Take it easy, Spec. Ty ain’t sure what hit him.”
“He sure as hell will be,” Spec said. “Take you another taste, Ty. That shit improves.” Beth shook her head and got up to serve someone at the bar. Spec followed her and came back with another jigger of whiskey, lifting it at Ty.
Spec was right: Ty’s whisky didn’t burn as much the second time.
They talked, easing down their whiskey with beer, Spec relaxing as Ty told him about coming over the pass in the storm.
“Had you a hell of a year, Ty,” Spec said. “You do good in the woods.”
“Fenton wants me to keep at it.” Ty wiped at some beer that had spilled on the table. “You be around next year? Show me some things?”
“Teach you to hunt. If I can get you free of them mules.” He seemed to consider something. “Who the hell is Natty Bumpus? They never did say.”
“Cody Jo says he’s a hunter . . . in a book.”
“In a book?”
“Never said the book.”
“Well,” Spec said. “Shit on that.”
A girl with dark eyes that slanted off toward dark shiny hair sat down. Ty thought she couldn’t be much older than he was. She was so pretty he couldn’t keep from looking at her, watching as she took Spec’s whiskey and drank it in one swallow.
“Thought we was going to have a party.” The girl wiped her mouth, her lips scarcely moving when she spoke.
“This here is Ty,” Spec said. “And this here is a party. Got my government money. Got my mountain buddy.” He got up for some more whiskey. “Shit goddamn,” he said, going to the bar.
“Ain’t he a hell of a thing?” the girl said, drinking some of Ty’s whiskey.
“Loretta enjoys a drink.” Spec returned with more whiskey, Beth following him with beer.
“Don’t you and Loretta drink too fast, Spec.” Beth put down the beer and messed up Ty’s hair. “Ty’s just gettin’ to know us.”
“Loretta is why I was late. We had a hell of a time.”
“I guess.” Loretta looked at Ty. “Wanna dance?” She didn’t look very interested, but when she stood up, Ty did too.
They shuffled around in front of the nickelodeon, Ty wondering why she’d wanted to dance in the first place. She didn’t pay a bit of attention to the music, just held him close, tightening her legs on his thigh whenever she got the chance. When the song ended, Ty said he thought they better sit down. Loretta didn’t object, sitting and drinking her whiskey before going off to another table.
“Hell, she’ll be back,” Spec said, pushing Ty’s beer in front of him. “She don’t take much time with them guys.”
Ty watched her talking with a man over by the record player, the lights making different colors in her dark hair. Her expression didn’t seem to change at all, but before he knew it, both of them were gone.
He began to think it wouldn’t be right to go to Horace and Etta’s after he’d been here. And it was getting late. Maybe he ought to ask Spec about someplace else to sleep, but he didn’t know if Spec planned to leave at all. He didn’t even know where the truck was, which direction to start walking even if he could get his things out of it.
They drank more, and Spec got in an argument with a man at another table. Beth came over and quieted things down, and a big man who’d come in from the front went back out again. Ty wondered what had happened to the man playing solitaire. He wondered where Loretta had gone. And he didn’t like what was happening to Spec, whose voice was getting hard as he found more and more things to argue about.
“Take that Loretta upstairs,” Spec said. “It’s a fuckin’ government present. I’ll sit here and think how to get more money out of them bastards.” He looked at Ty. “What the fuck’s the matter with Loretta?”
Before Ty could answer, Jeanie had plopped down next to him. “Anyone here gonna buy a girl a beer? I’ve worked me up a thirst.”
Ty was surprised by how relieved he was to see her. He was at the bar asking Beth for the beer when Spec spun him around. “Told you this was my deal, goddamn it. You ain’t buying no beer.” He had turned Ty with such force they both went a little off balance.
“You boys are lucky.” Beth acted like there was no commotion at all. “It’s on the house.” She pushed three bottles across the bar. “Here’s some change too. Play somethin’, Ty. Play “Minnie the Moocher.”
Spec took the beer back to Jeanie. Ty went over to the record player and pushed the buttons for the song. He pushed the buttons to play others too, songs that Angie and Rosie had played that night at Fenton’s. He was looking for more when Beth came over.
“Don’t be so low, hon. Spec was just happy to see you. Got so excited he wouldn’t have it no way but his way.” Beth pushed the buttons for “Pennies from Heaven.”“ Yo u’ll be like brothers come morning.” Before he could say anything Jeanie was there and they were dancing. She was a lot more energetic than Loretta.
“You remind me of Angie,” Ty said. “She sure likes this brand of music.”
“Buck’s wife? Bet she don’t like my brand of lovin’.” She pushed away and did some fancy steps. “That’s the lindy.” She slowed, dancing with him again. “You dance nice.” She hummed the tune. “When we goin’ upstairs? Spec give me my orders.”
“Well,” Ty said, looking at Spec and Beth sitting at the table, feeling a little dizzy and uncertain. “Well . . .”
They danced the next dance, then had a drink and danced again. And then Ty found himself in a tiny little room, hardly space enough for the bed. Jeanie was already out of her clothes, her heavy breasts swinging as she did something over a washbasin.
“Like these?” She cupped her breasts and held them up, the wide aureoles pale in the uncertain light. She looked at him. “Can’t do much with them pants on.” She dropped her breasts and undid his buckle. “Way you mess around, you’d think we had all night.”
They rolled around on the bed and she wiped at him with a warm cloth. Then they rolled some more.
“Goodness, honey,” she said after awhile. “You gonna poke that thing into the mattress or me?” She shifted her hips and took hold of him.
It was over so fast Ty wasn’t sure he’d enjoyed it.
“Wasn’t that good?” She pulled her dress back on and looked around for her shoes.
“I reckon.” Ty still wasn’t sure. He pulled his pants up, buckled his belt. “You know . . .” He sat back down on the bed. “I hardly know where I’m at.”
She pulled him up and started him out the door. “ Yo u’re cute.” She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “But scoot on in the potty there and clean up. It’s Saturday; I got fish to fry.”
When Ty got to the bathroom Loretta was coming out, holding onto the the door for balance. She was pale, her hair stringy with perspiration. Ty reached out to help her but she pushed his hand away. “Crapper’s in there, kid,” she said, going on toward the stairs, using the wall to balance.
Ty took a long pee and splashed cold water on his face. The room smelled of vomit, and he was glad to be out of it. He went down the stairs and found Spec sleeping at the table, his head on his arms, an open bottle of beer in front of him. Jeanie was talking to a man at another table. She gave Ty a wave and turned back to her conversation.
“You want the rest of this beer, hon?” Beth asked. She was going around with a tray picking up the empty glasses and bottles from the tables. “Spec sure don’t.” She held up the bottle for Ty, who shook his head. “Well, better get him on home. His truck’s out back.”
“I don’t know where to take him,” Ty said. “I don’t know where to go.”
“Well,” she lifted one of Spec’s arms, wiping the table under it, “I’ll get Leonard. Maybe he knows.”
Leonard turned out to be the man who’d been playing solitaire. He looked old, but that didn’t seem to slow him. He got under Spec’s arm and had him out of his chair so fast Ty had to hurry to get under the other. Spec woke a little too, which helped. But he looked bad, his head rolling and saliva running off his chin.
“I wouldn’t expect him to drive,” Leonard said as they took him out the backdoor. “Though I seen worse who did.”
Spec didn’t protest as they pushed him into the truck, picking his legs up so they could stuff them in and close the door.
“I don’t know where to take him,” Ty said. “Where to go.”
Leonard spit a brown line into the dirty snow. “You know there ain’t a goddamned thing you boys can’t do up in them mountains. Why in hell is it just the opposite ever’ time you get to town?”
He spit again. “You work for Pardee too?”
“I do.” Ty wished Fenton were there to fix everything.
“Well, I’m damn glad it ain’t him we had to carry. He’s a big bastard.” Leonard turned and started back in.
“Where would Fenton take him?” Ty called out. “If Fenton was here?”
“Beats me.” Leonard had the door open, but he stopped, considered. “Jasper claims he’s got some kin out Indian town way. Try that.”

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