Chapter 37

I woke up that Monday morning shortly before six, covered with sweat. After sitting on the porch and consoling each other, Mom helped me into the house and escorted me to the couch. I was just going to sit there for a while, but liked the feel of it so much I fell asleep.

Mom had wanted to make sure I didn’t get a chill with the thermostat set at eighty degrees in the house, so she put about four blankets on me. I guess she wanted to make sure that I didn’t lose any limbs from frost bite.

I felt terrible, which is one reason why I don’t drink on my own. I also don’t like the things it makes a person do when they are drunk. For me, I apparently get a smart mouth. At least R.D. the Cowboy thought so.

Mom had put a trash can next to the couch, just in case I wasn’t through upchucking. My mouth was dry and sore. I had a headache that was the worst since the last time a hangover visited. Had I known what was in store for me, I would have taken a "chaser." When I looked in the mirror, I cringed at my eye, the one with which I tried to hit R.D.’s fist, now black and almost swollen shut.

That will look good as I try to put out a newspaper today. Mom didn’t nag me about what happened, too bad. She wasn’t real fond of me getting drunk, but neither was I. Squiggy shall pay for that one. Plus, Mom didn’t really think it was a good idea for me to be at the bar. Again, neither did I. But I also didn’t want to expose Squiggy, Mule and Big Uns to her friends and if they had mad their way inside our house, they would still be here.

I dreaded going to the paper this morning. This wasn’t my job. I should be in Tulsa, getting ready for my one feature story of the day, not tackling the problems associated with putting out a newspaper.

Mom was sitting at the table in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading my newspaper. I wanted to grab it and read it, to find out what was happening in the real world. She jumped up and started cooking breakfast. My stomach was empty and in need of nourishment.

“Good morning, honey,” she greeted me. I mumbled something that I couldn’t even understand.

We ate breakfast and I felt a little better. I invaded her medicine cabinet and took the strongest pain reliever she had. After taking a long shower and getting dressed, it was time.

I was going to the Review and I feared this would be a terrible day. In addition to getting the newspaper out, I would have to visit the bank today and find out what needed to be done.

Mom is waiting for me at the door. She kisses me on the cheek and hugs me.

“Have a good day!” she says, and I kind of like it. Many a moon has passed since anybody kissed me at the door and wished me a good day as I was leaving for work. Technically, this isn’t my work. Just my temporary work until I sell the Review or it goes belly up.

I drive downtown and park behind the building. It is an old one, in bad need of some repairs, just like all the other buildings downtown. I got Dad’s keys and let myself in. Nobody is here yet, of course. The other two staffers, my cousin Teresa and some lady named Nancy won’t get here until much later.

I turn on the lights and unlock the front door. It has been a long time since I have been in this old building, but notice little has changed. There are a few old printing machines at the back. A darkroom is set up just inside the door, next to the bathroom. I come through some swinging doors and here it is. This is where the news happens in Langford, Oklahoma.

There are three desks scattered around the front of the building. On the far wall, there is a layout table, angled so a person can put copy on the paper. It is dirty and stinks.

But it is nice and quiet. I enjoy the solitude while sitting at my father’s desk and looking at the calendar to see if anything was scheduled for today. There’s some deal over at the school for the child of the month at ten and then a city council meeting this evening.

Not real exciting, but at least it will help to fill the twelve pages that need to be ready by Wednesday at noon. I grab last week’s copy and thumb through it, trying to see if there is anything that needs followed up.

I’m not real impressed. Teresa had to get the paper out with Dad laid up. I guess she decided the most important news event in town was the marriage of some lady who I never heard of. Apparently, real news took a break.

The front door opens. It’s just after 7:30. I don’t expect it to be Teresa or Nancy, or who it is. I look up to see some man heading in my direction. It’s not R.D. or Trevor, so I don’t get too worried. I decide that it is probably somebody who is having a garage sale later this week and wants to invite all the Review readers.

He’s a tall man, about my age. He has some kind of wrapping covering his head, tilted at an angle. His right eye is almost covered. The man has on glasses that are bent, making the one eye piece set higher than the other. The shirt is a long-sleeve dress variety, despite the heat. His jeans are a little baggy. Apparently, the man has no rear to hold up the pants, but he does have a fairly large belly.

The man sits down in the chair next to the desk. I really don’t feel like it, but I scrounge up a smile.

“How’s it going?” I ask.

“What?” he replies, leaning forward and tilting to the side. Apparently one ear doesn’t work all that great and he’s wanting me to talk into the other.

“I asked you how it’s going.”

He frowned for a second and gave the question more time than it deserved.

“How’s what going?” he asked.

“Uh, everything.”

He put his hand over his mouth and rubbed his face. This question was difficult to answer for some reason. He started nodding his head.

“I’m good,” he finally said. “And you?”

“I’m okay.”

He leaned across the desk and stared at me. The man moved a little each direction so he could get a better look.

“Say, you ain’t the old man!”

An amazing discovery! Call National Geographic!

“No, I’m not,” I answered. Since I’m from Langford and have worked at newspapers for so long, I am used to dealing with strange people. But that doesn’t mean I like it.

He appeared to be eating the top part of his mouth with the bottom. His lower lip almost touched his nose. The man had tried to shave this morning, but wasn’t successful. Some of his face was clean shaven, there were patches in other locations that had not been touched. I noticed that he had a far away look in his eyes that I should have expected.

“Where is he?” the man asked. “The old man is my friend!”

“He died Saturday night.”

“You don’t say?” the man continued, smiling for some reason.

“Yeah, actually I did.”

“Bummer. Was it the STD?”

I could not have heard him correctly.

“The what?”

“STD. You know, sexy transferring disease. Ain’t you heard of it?”

“Sexually transmitted disease?

“I reckon so,” the man replied, nodding again. “Is that what got him?”

“Not that I know of,” I followed up, then asked something that I really didn’t want to know. “Have you heard something that I don’t know?”

“Probably if I was some place that you weren’t.”

“No, about the old man.”

“Not really. I was just wondering if he had it, too.”

Okay, I should have cut this conversation off right now. But I was a little interested now.

“You have an STD?” I asked.

“Shoot, not just one,” he answered. “I got two of em.”

“You been fooling around?”

“Naw, got em from me wife.”

“I guess your wife’s been running around, huh?”

The pursed his lips and studied the question.

“Not that I know of,” he answered. “She’s a little on the fat and ugly side. The little lady says she got it from a toilet seat at McDonald’s.”

I needed to go to work, but was curious as to why the man was wearing what appeared to be a sheet around his head.

“Do you have a head injury?” I asked. He had to think about this for a second.

“Yeah, I got like this open sore that’s oozing.”

That was a little more than I wanted to know.

“My cousin Jake shot me the other day when we was hunting. The doctors said the bullet was too close to my brain so they left it in my head.”

Very interesting stuff, I knew, but it was time for him to go. This guy should be off somewhere taking heavy medication.

“Now my friends call me ‘Bullethead’,” he added. “I like it when they just shorten it to ‘Bullet’. Sounds like somebody in one of them westerns they have at the library.”

I wondered if this guy was going to stay here all day.

“What are you doing out this morning, Bullethead?” I asked. He seemed to get a kick out of that.

“Does that mean we’re friends?” he asked. I cringed, never expecting that to happen.

“Sure.”

He smiled and looked around the paper.

“I’m a waiting on the little lady,” he replied. “She’s over at the clinic getting a shot.”

I nodded. Nobody could pay me to ask why she was getting a shot.

“I guess I better get to work,” I said, hoping he would get the hint.

“You go right ahead. I’ll make sure nobody bothers you.”

He was actually quiet for almost a minute, then started whistling. It started off really light, but the longer he whistled, the more energy was exerted. I recognized his whistle was an old Aerosmith song.

“You’re quite the whistler,” I pointed out. He kept on whistling, even turning up the volume. His cheeks were sucked in and his lips were sticking out like he wanted to kiss somebody. Bullethead stopped suddenly and looked at the watch on his arm. Then, he looked at me.

“What time you got?” he asked.

“What time do you have?” I countered.

“Don’t rightly now. I can’t remember how to tell time.”

That must be the reason why he was wearing the watch.

“Seven forty five.”

“Guess I best get going,” he announced. “Wanna go get some breakfast with me?”

“I’ve already ate.”

“Bummer, guess I’ll go on down to the café. I like their eggs. They make them good and runny, just how I like them.”

He stood up and stuck his hand in his pocket.

“Darn the luck!” he exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I guess the little lady’s got my money. Hmm, figger I’ll just stay here until she comes back.”

I immediately grabbed my wallet and handed him a five spot.

“You can pay me back later,” I said.

“I won’t get paid until the first of the month,” he said. “That’s my payday.”

“You have a job?”

“Naw, I work for the government. They send me a check on the third of each month.”

He thought that was rather funny. I realized that I was helping to support him in more ways than giving him a bribe to leave. Bullethead walked out of the building and headed across the street to the Mexican store.

Several minutes later, I watched him come out of there with some money in his hand. Next, he went to the clothing store. He had a pretty good racket going on. Next time, I would remember to keep the door locked.

I called the police station and talked to my good buddy, Officer Arnold. He told me everything was pretty quiet. They did have some woman who reported somebody stole her panties at the grocery store. I showed no interest in that one.

The clock showed after eight and none of my help had arrived. I wasn’t surprised. The phone rang, for the first time today. It was some old lady.

“What’s the weather going to do today?” she asked.

“Beats me,” I answered. “Turn on The Weather Channel.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“Who is this?” she demanded. “Mister Hunt always tells me if it’s gonna storm.”

“Mister Hunt died Saturday.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“Well, I’ll be. Was it the hemorrhoids? I hear they can be awful dangerous.”

“No, it was his heart.”

“I always liked him,” she added. “I remember when…”

The woman was telling a story that would probably last ten minutes. I set the phone down and started looking at the dummy sheets for this week’s paper. Not many ads, which didn’t surprise me.

Every few minutes or so, I picked up the phone and gave her some kind of “uh, huh”. I finally heard a "goodbye" and a click, so I hung up. Do people in Langford have any kind of a life?

Teresa finally showed up at eight thirty. Nancy came in right behind her.

They were both wearing dresses that were too short for their age. Teresa was my age, but looked twenty years older. All the shopping had an effect on her. She had kept the weight off since the last time the doctor had sucked all the fat out, I saw. Nancy was younger. She had been to the tanning bed too much. Her skin looked all wrinkled. She was wearing too much cheap makeup and had her hair puffed up like the women did in the early 1980s.

They both stopped and stared at me.

“What’re you doing here?” Teresa asked me.

“Trying to put out the paper,” I answered.

“You mean I don’t get to run it?”

“Nope.”

“That stinks,” she added and walked toward her desk. “Nice shiner.”

Nancy stopped by the desk and stuck her hand out.

“I’m Nancy,” she said. I had already figured that out, but wasn’t going to disappoint her. I noticed that she had a necklace with her first name on it. The necklace looked cheap, but she appeared proud. Nancy shook my hand and smiled. “Does it hurt?”

“A little bit,” I answered. “Nice to meet you.”

“Every time my brother gets in a fight and winds up with a black eye, he puts a steak on it. Want me to go get one?”

“No thanks.” I didn’t think that would look real good as I tried to persuade people to advertise in the Review.

“Okay, just let me know. Is there anything you need?”

“Not right now.”

Nancy walked off and I heard Teresa berating her for trying to brownnose me. The front door opened and a man walked in. He stopped and looked around. The man had on a Langford hat, a blue shirt, jeans and work boots.

He walked over and stood at the desk, staring down at me. I looked up and smiled.

“Looks like you oughta stick to writing instead of fighting,” he pointed out. That was so funny I fogot to laugh. “Are you in charge?”

“Afraid so,” I replied. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember his name. “Have a seat.”

The man sat down and leaned forward. Apparently he didn’t want Nancy or Teresa to hear him. I noticed they had their radars up and were trying to listen in.

“You aren’t going to run that story, are you?” he asked.

“Which story?”

“You know, the one about my family.”

“I really don’t have a clue what you are talking about.”

He told me the most unbelievable story. The man and his wife had three children, two sons and a daughter, all in their twenties. They were all married and lived close to each other. Their daughter just had a little girl and wanted to go to college. Turns out her husband started having an affair with the wife of one of his brothers.

That caused the younger son and his wife to get divorced. His daughter beats the snot out of the woman who had an affair with her husband. Then, the daughter and her husband patched things up and she wound up getting pregnant again. Things seemed to be pretty smooth until the daughter’s husband started having an affair with the older son’s wife. The oldest son and his wife split up.

The daughter and her husband also went their separate ways. She goes after her brother’s wife and has assault charges filed on her. Her husband goes back to dating the original sister-in-law, the one who he initially had an affair with. She is now dating the husband’s brother and is pregnant with his child. The oldest son and his wife patch things up. The middle son gets remarried and finally, the daughter can go back to school.

Her former husband leaves the woman who is pregnant with her brother’s child and eventually marries a lesbian, who tries to get the daughter to date her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I say.

“I wish I was.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Nobody would ever believe it.”

“So you won’t write a story about it?” he asks.

“Not in my lifetime.”

He looks relieved. I don’t know how he has maintained his sanity. The man shakes my hand and leaves. I look down at the clock and see that it is time. I have an appointment with the man who will go a long way toward determining what will happen with the paper and my mother’s house.

I feel sick to my stomach, even before meeting with him.

Chapter 38