Texas by the Tail

Texas had raised its educational standards a great deal in recent years. But some of the old ideas still lingered, and they were by no means all bad, although some people might dispute this. Newcomers often objected to the schools' seeming intrusion into the province of the parent. Their emphasis on manners and decorum. But their objections went unheeded, and after a time they were usually withdrawn.

Before he was ever taught his ABC's, the Texas schoolchild learned respect for his elders. He learned that men (gentlemen) were always addressed and replied to with sirs, and that ladies (all women were ladies) were always spoken to with ma'ams. Similarly he was taught to say please and thank you and excuse me- the rule being that you could never say them too often. He was taught courtesy and gallantry, and concern for the weak and elderly. And if he was slow in learning and remembering these teachings (no matter how brilliant he was academically) he would find himself in serious trouble very quickly.

So, after all, then, there was one generalization you could make about Texas. You could say flatly and positively that the wanton and open flouting of every principle of decency and fair play which was becoming commonplace in other states was wholly foreign to Texas. There had never been anything like that. There never would be. Hypocrisy?-Yes, you would find that. You would find approval for it. But if a man was a bum, he had better not demonstrate the fact in public.

In some cities of America, the streets were roamed by gangs of rowdies: overgrown louts who had been slobbered over far too long by professional do-gooders and who needed nothing quite so much as a goddamned good beating; sadistic thugs who were as whimperingly sensitive about their privileges as they were blind to their obligations, who showed no interest at all in the common privileges of soap, water and hard work; human offal who demanded everything of their nation, and who contributed nothing to it but their plethoric progeny which a responsible citizenry was forced to provide for.

And this scum, these outrageous brutes, prowled the streets of those American cities, knocking down wholly inoffensive citizens, publicly committing robbery, mayhem and murder. Doing it because they knew they could get away with it, that a hundred people might look on but not a one would interfere.

Well, so be it. But such shameful spectacles were not seen in Texas.

No Texan would have stood idly by while a dozen slobs stomped a decent man to death.

No Texan, regardless of whether he was nine, nineteen or ninety, whether he was rich or poor, whether he was bigot or liberal, whether he was outnumbered a hundred-to-one- no Texan, you could be sure, would look on unconcerned while a woman was being raped.

At Dallas, Mitch had a half-hour layover between planes. He entered a phone booth and placed a call to Red, intending to tell her that he was running a little late. But the apartment didn't answer, and the clerk cut in after a moment or two, advising him that Red had left for the airport a few minutes before.

That was reasonable enough, of course, traffic being what it was. Mitch started to leave the booth, then turned and put in a call to Downing.

It was a courtesy owing the gambler, he felt. He had taken his hard luck story to Downing. Downing was now entitled to hear the happy ending.

'Just off for Ghent,' he said, as the gambler's voice came over the wire. 'Thought I'd tell you the news from Aix is strictly copasetic.'

There was a heavy silence. Then a very feeble chuckle from Downing.

'Poetry yet, huh? I think they had it the decade I missed class. Didn't the guy get a bottle of wine poured down his throat for bringing the good news?'

'I thought you'd never remember,' Mitch laughed. 'Thanks, Frank, but I can't make it tonight. Just here between planes.'

Downing sighed. He said he had a little poem for Mitch. 'It goes like this, pal. 'Here I sit all brokenhearted.''

'Yeah?' Mitch smiled expectantly. 'What do you mean, Frank?'

'I mean I reversed the habits of a lifetime and tried to do you a favor. And the way it turned out- well, you better brace yourself before I tell you…'

Mitch braced himself.

It didn't help a bit.

25

Mitch took the receiver from his ear. He stared at it, and then he put it back again; stood speechless, choked-up for a moment by the surging tide of his emotions, shaking his head over and over and over.

'Frank…' He found his voice at last. 'You're supposed to rattle before you fang a guy.'

'I'm sorry as hell, keed. I was just trying to help.'

'Help?' Mitch could have slugged him. 'Help how? By kicking a woman around? Doing something that the first hairy-assed caveman could have done ten times better? What the hell are you, a man or a mule, and don't tell me!'

'Gee,' Downing said humbly. 'A promotion already. I used to be a snake.'

'Goddammit, Frank…!' Mitch was almost shouting. Where do you get off at pulling this on me? You knew I didn't want this muscle bit! You know I've always steered clear of it! I've got a head, by God, and I believe in using it, and if you'd just left me the hell alone, let me handle my own problems in my own way instead of acting like a goddam public nurse-!'

'Mitch,' Downing pleaded, 'come over and shoot me, huh? Anytime. You don't need an appointment.'

'I think I'll wait for a spear,' Mitch said bitterly. 'With a guy like you around, we should be back using them in another week.'

He slammed up the phone.

He banged out of the booth, took a few angry strides away from it, and then, of course, he went right back to it again, and got the gambler back on the wire. Because Downing had tried to help, he had apologized, and after that, well, what could you do but accept it? Then, too, there was just a chance that-

'Sorry I blew my top, Frank. Now about Frankie and Johnnie-do you suppose there's a chance that they didn't make the send stick with Teddy?'

'No,' Downing said, regretfully but firmly. 'Those kids do a job like di wah didy. She'd have sprouted a trolly and made like a streetcar if they'd told her to.'

'Goddam,' Mitch sighed. 'Why couldn't they just have kept the dough for themselves?'

'Well, that would have been stealing,' Downing pointed out reasonably. 'Anyway, they knew I'd find out about it.'

'Yeah. Yeah, sure.'

'It ain't all bad, is it, keed? You'll get your divorce, and you'll never see that broad again. That's a little something, anyway.'

Mitch admitted that it was, and it didn't make a damned bit of difference because he'd lost Red. He was as sure of that as he was that yesterday wasn't today. Downing said that maybe he was low-rating Red a little; she was yar about him, so maybe she'd forget and forgive like the sweet kid she was. Mitch said maybe, and maybe yesterday was today after all. And on that unhappy note the conversation ended.

The plane seemed hardly out of the Dallas airport before it was in the Houston landing pattern. Mitch fastened his seat belt, probing the hopeless darkness of his problem.

Red was apparently not quite through with him yet. Otherwise she would have told him off over the phone. She meant to get through with him in person, which meant that…?

Her voice came to him out of the past, back from the beginning and up through the years. 'Don't you lie to me. Don't you ever, ever lie to me!' He remembered her attitude about the money, when she thought he had lied