Texas by the Tail

peppery waspishness had given way to a cow-like contentment. She was washed out looking, haggard as a witch. But, hell, she was pushing fifty now, and Francis the Gallant couldn't be over thirty-five.

'… a dancer, you know,' his mother was saying. 'Francis is a very talented dancer. Everyone says so.'

'That's nice. Oh, that's awfully nice,' Mitch said.

'Yes, uh, yes, he dances.'

'Oh,' said Mitch. 'You mean he dances.'

'Y-Yes… A dancer.'

'Well, that's nice. That's awfully nice,' Mitch said. And then, his mother's eyes begging, he made himself behave. 'I'm sure he's very good,' he said. 'I'd like to see him sometime.'

Francis did not come into the living room until he was fully dressed in a very 'sharp' black suit with broad chalk stripes, toothpick- toed shoes, a black shirt and a yellow tie. He waited until Mitch had arisen and extended his hand. Then he sat down, ignoring the hand, taking a swig from the can of beer he was carrying.

He stared at Mitch silently, eyes unblinking. Mitch stared back at him smiling.

'So you're a bellboy,' he finally grunted. 'What do you do when a guy asks you to get him a woman?'

'What do you do?' Mitch said.

'I heard that all you birds was pimps.'

'Did you indeed?' Mitch smiled. 'And what's your personal opinion?'

His mother was fidgeting nervously; she whimpered the statement-question that Mitch might like a can of beer. 'So let him have one,' Francis said, and he suddenly pitched the can at Mitch.

Mitch caught it, but awkwardly; beer splashed onto the trousers of his one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar suit. Very carefully, he set the can down on the bare pine floor. He again turned his smile on Francis, who was shaking with laughter.

'You ain't much of a catcher, bellboy!'

'No, I'm not,' Mitch smiled. 'But you should see me pitch.'

'What'd you pay for that suit you're wearin'?'

'I made it myself,' Mitch said. 'I make all my own clothes.'

'Don't get smart, bellboy!'

'You should try it,' Mitch said. 'After all, what have you got to lose?'

He could feel his smile widening, freezing on his face. His mother knew its meaning, and twittered an attempted diversion. But her husband silenced her with a look.

'How much loot you make a week, bellboy?'

'I'll trade information with you,' said Mitch. 'Where do you keep your little red hat?'

'Huh? I ain't got no little red hat.'

'But what do you use to collect the pennies in?'

'Collect pen-huh?'

'That people give you for dancing,' Mitch explained. 'Or doesn't the organ-grinder trust you with money?'

His mother whinnied fearfully.

Francis cursed, swarming up out of his chair. But he just wasn't fast enough. Before he knew what was happening to him (if he ever knew), Mitch had given him a kick in the groin, an elbow across the windpipe and a knee in the face. Then, as Mitch's mother screamed and clawed at him, he methodically stomped in her husband's ribs.

He was sorry, terribly, terribly sorry, even as he fled the house. The fact that Francis was the king of the boobs was no reason to half- kill him. In attacking Francis, he realized, the real victim had been his mother. He would never dare see her again now. And he would have to get himself out of town very quickly.

He went home and gave Teddy the news, promising to send for her as soon as he found another job. Teddy declared that she was going right along with him. Her daddy wasn't going to go any place without his mama.

'We'll go to Forth Worth,' she announced. 'I know of a very good job I can get there. The same kind of work I'm doing now.'

'But what about me? I don't know that I can get a job there.'

'You don't need a job; I make more than enough for both of us. Anyway, you'll be busy taking care of the baby.'

'Baby! What the hell are you talking about?' Teddy raised her skirt, and pulled down her panties, baring the creamy environs of her belly button. She pulled his head against the area, and suddenly he felt something-a small but unmistakable kick.

'See?' she beamed at him as he jerked away. 'Eight months, and it hardly shows at all. Some women are like that, the doctor says. He says I'll probably be able to work almost up to the time of its birth.'

'B-But-But-' Mitch waved his hands desperately. 'So everything's going to be just fine and dandy. Mama will work and daddy will take care of the baby-a baby should be taken care of by its daddy-and he'll have plenty of time to play with his little dicey-wicey.'

Mitch suddenly exploded. He asked her what the hell she took him for? He, by God, would provide the money for the family-he'd find some kind of a job-and she, by God, would take care of the baby!

'I will not,' said Teddy, iron coming into her dulcet voice. 'I already have a baby to take care of. My daddy's my baby.'

'You heard me!' Mitch said. 'And knock off that daddymama alfalfa! Shake it out of your pretty little skull! It's beginning to give me the meeyams!'

'Don't you sass your mama!' Teddy said.

'Goddammit!' Mitch yelled. 'I said to knock it off!'

He flung himself down on the bed. Face clouded ominously, Teddy marched into the bathroom.

He heard water running. He bit his lip, remorse flooding over him. My God-first his mother, then his wife! Pushing around two women in one day, the only two who meant anything to him. And Teddy was pregnant! Almost on the point of becoming a mother! It was up to him to humor her at such a time, not shout and curse at her.

He was on the point of calling an apology to her, when Teddy suddenly loomed over him. She shoved a wash rag into his mouth. She scrubbed vigorously.

For a moment he was too startled to move. Then, gasping and gagging and retching, he struggled free of her. Staggered about the room, literally frothing at the mouth.

He spat, cursing sickishly, and a flood of soap bubbles sprayed from his lips. Teddy watched him with an air of self-righteous sympathy.

'Now, mama didn't want to do that,' she said. 'It hurt mama much more than it hurt daddy.'

'For God's sake,' Mitch sputtered weakly. 'Why the hell-what kind of a damned fool-'

'You better be careful,' Teddy said. 'You better be a nice daddy, or mama will wash your mouth out again.'

7

There was a soft upward swelling of the music in the bar. Mitch arose from his stool with a little nod to Red.

'Sit tight, honey. I'll be right back.'