Tishomingo Blues Part 26

Newton was the one remembered. He said, "s.h.i.+t, we doodlin' around in the woods with empty weapons. Didn't Arlen tell us?-Yes sir, he did. But you two're barkin' at each other-s.h.i.+t, I forgot." Newton carried a 12-gauge double-barreled shotgun that was dark and scarred and looked almost old enough to be authentic. He brought sh.e.l.ls from his pocket and slipped them into the side-byside barrels. Once they'd loaded their pistols, Newton pulled the cork on his canteen, still some corn whiskey in it, to pa.s.s it around. He said to Eugene, "Fish gonna pay you anything for his killing Rose?"

That started them again. Eugene saying Rose was worth more to him than any amount of money. Fish saying, "Then I don't have to pay you nothing. Which I wasn't gonna anyway." Newton believed it was Fish's sissy tone of voice that hooked into Eugene-prissy, what it was, irksome-and got Eugene to slash the barrel of his Colt at Fish and cut him across the forehead. Fish was stopped and fell back. Eugene, the hook still in him, went at Fish to cut him again. Fish saw him coming and thumbed the hammer of his Colt and shot Eugene in the belly. It doubled him over, Eugene going "Unnnh," like he'd been punched, but was able to straighten enough to put his Colt on Fish and shoot him in the face almost the exact same time Fish fired his second one and shot Eugene through the heart.

In the quiet that settled, Newton said, "Jesus Christ."

They heard the shot and then two more that sounded almost like one and they listened until Robert said, "That's not us."

They were in the trees on the north side of Robert's park. Jerry came over and he told him the same thing he told Dennis, and said, "Let's wait and see what's going on." A couple of minutes pa.s.sed and Jerry said, "We're taking too f.u.c.kin long. I'm going home." Tonto appeared as he was saying it.

"Two dead. The Fish and I don't know the other one.

"Not Arlen?" Robert said.

"Or Kirkbride?"

"I don't know him."

"The one on the horse."

"No, it wasn't him."

There was a silence.

"Eugene," Robert said. "It was Eugene." He waited a moment, thinking about them in the camp, and said, "Jesus Christ."

When Arlen looked up hearing the shots he turned toward the sound-from the same direction he'd heard his boys yelling at each other. Walter wanted to know who was that, as Arlen thought about it and said, "s.h.i.+t, those're ours. Pistol shots, so it wasn't Newton, else I'd have voted for him." Arlen said, "I don't want to believe what I suspect happened." And said, "Jesus Christ." Walter stood there crouching his shoulders. Arlen looked at him, studied him, and then nodded, giving approval to what he was thinking of doing, and said, "Come on." He brought Walter through the woods, a hand on his belt, to where they got close enough they could look out at the glades-at sunlight slanting through green ash and sweet gum standing out there-but not be seen from across the way.

"Go on," Arlen said, "show yourself and let's see what happens."

"You crazy?" Walter said. "I know what'll happen."

"Go on, or I'll shoot you myself."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't care. Stand there and look around."

"What if they shoot?"

"I doubt they will. They do, I'll see their smoke and know where they're at. Go on, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, or I'll tell Traci not to f.u.c.k you no more."

Arlen came behind him to the edge of the woods, gave him a shove, and Walter walked out to the glade, the pistol held low at his side, took five strides across shafts of sunlight and stopped. He stared at the dark wall of trees no more than thirty yards away. If they wanted to shoot him he was dead.

Arlen's voice behind him said, "Go on out'n the middle there." Walter didn't move.

Now another voice called to him from the wall of trees. "Walter, come on over here or get out of the way. We won't shoot you." Robert's voice, the voice calling again, "Come on, Walter." But he still didn't move, afraid if he ran Arlen would shoot him. But now he saw Robert-there he was, like one of Old Bedford's colored fellas in his kepi, Robert stepping out in the open and waving his arm to come on.

Arlen yelled, "Shoot him," and fired past Walter. It got Robert to strike a sideways pose and return fire, squeezing off shots, Arlen firing back, Walter in the middle: Walter aware of himself in his Confederate officer's uniform, standing there like the statue of some general n.o.body ever heard of, a stone figure in a park, of no more use than a place for birds to land and take a s.h.i.+t.

It was how he felt as the two-bit ex-convict yelled at him again, "Shoot, G.o.dd.a.m.n it!" And this time he did. Walter half-turned raising his Colt and shot Arlen in the chest. Bam Bam. It felt so good Walter thumbed the hammer back and shot Arlen again and watched him fall to the ground dead.

They came out of the trees from three sides: Hector and Tonto walking up to Walter; Groove and Cedric coming this way toward Robert, Dennis and Jerry with him, Jerry growling.

"This is how it's suppose to happen, these clowns shoot each other? This was some f.u.c.kin idea."

"I don't see nothing wrong with how it's turned out," Robert said, "except there should be one more, Newton. 'Less he pa.s.sed out along the way. He might've been with Fish and Eugene and took off seeing the odds change."

Robert didn't sound worried about him.

Dennis watched Tonto down there taking Walter's gun from him. Now the two walked over to where Hector was looking at Arlen.

"Checking him out," Robert said. "How about old Walter? Surprised the h.e.l.l out of me." Jerry said, "Let's get outta here."

It sounded good to Dennis. But now he.saw Hector down there saying something to Walter and saw Walter reach into his pants pocket and bring out something-a coin, yeah, because now he was going to flip it with his thumb, Hector and Tonto watching.

Dennis, Robert and Jerry were spread out and watching from about sixty feet away. Jerry still growling.

"The f.u.c.k're they doing?"

"It looks like," Robert said, "they gonna see who wins the coin toss."

"For what?"

"Have to wait and see."

They watched Walter toss the coin. He let it land on the ground and all three looked down, Hector and Tonto nodding their heads. Now Tonto handed Walter's Colt to Hector and Hector handed him Arlen's.

"The f.u.c.k're they doing?"

Robert didn't answer him this time.

They watched Tonto step away from Hector and Walter. They watched him pull a Navy Colt from his belt and stand looking this way, a gun in each hand.

He said, "Jerry?"

Jerry raised his voice. "The f.u.c.k're you morons doing?" Tonto said, "Take your shot, man. Is in your hand when you feel like it. You go, I go." Jerry looked at Robert. "He's serious?"

"He's calling you," Robert said.

"You f.u.c.k. You set this whole thing up for this?"

"That's your big ego talking. No, man, this part's an afterthought."

"You're making a mistake. You know I'm connected."

"Jerry, come on. You never had a friend in your life."

"I raise the piece I'm going for you."

"Don't matter who you raise it at," Robert said, "long as you raise it. Go on tend your business, Tonto's waiting."

Dennis, listening to all this, was thinking, Jesus Christ. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and couldn't help thinking, Shane Shane.

It happened within the next few seconds. Dennis wasn't even sure if Jerry raised his gun or if it would've mattered. He saw Tonto bring up both of his-at his legs and the next second straight out in front of him firing, emptying both guns, and Jerry was blown off his feet. Dennis didn't move. He watched Robert walk over to look down at Jerry.

"One in the chest. One in the neck it looks like, and one in both arms. Arlen, before-what'd he fire, three times?"

Groove, standing over to the side with Cedric, said, "He got off four at you, you come out waving your arm."

Robert said, "So Tonto hit him four times out of I guess eight, huh? Man, that's shooting. See how they grouped? Where's Jerry's coat at?"

Groove said, "I'll get it," but didn't move. "You never told me this was in the plan."

"Man, I didn't know it myself," Robert said, "till I saw the coin toss. You know, we'd talk about it. Anybody had a good idea ... I saw the possibility soon as Walter shot Arlen, but didn't know Tonto and Hector did too. Man, we doing fine here."

Dennis still hadn't moved. He listened, not saying a word. Heard Groove say, "We put them in the truck?"

Robert said, "No, don't have to now. See, here's Hector coming with Walter's gun, the one shot Arlen. He's gonna put it in Jerry's hand. Look down there. Tonto's put his in Arlen's hands. Now he's telling Walter no, he didn't shoot Arlen, the general did. It might be a stretch, two-gun Arlen Novis. .h.i.tting the general four times. I hope he was known as a deadeye 'cause that's how the police, the CIB, all those people are gonna see him." He looked over. "Dennis, you understand what happened?"

Dennis said, "I was standing right here, wasn't I?" an edge to his tone, though not because he resented the question or Robert's cool. It was being here, seeing two men shot to death and not knowing what to do because he was part of it and didn't want to be.

Robert was staring at him.

Robert said, "You weren't here."

"Like I wasn't there," Dennis said, "when Floyd was shot. I see three different guys killed in front of me and I'm nowhere around."

Robert stared another moment and turned to Groove and Cedric. "Get Jerry's coat and Dennis', the rifles, anything we brought from the reenactment. Put what you brought back in the bread truck and call me tonight. I want to know you got home."

Groove and Cedric moved off and now Dennis saw Tonto coming toward them, Walter still back there standing over Arlen. Now Robert was giving Tonto a high five, calling him "my man Tonto Rey" and saying nice things to him, that he saw it coming, but still was caught by surprise, loved how they set it up, loved the gunplay, Dennis seeing how natural violence was to them, no big deal. Tonto looked at Jerry on the ground and said, "Today we had enough of him." He walked over to Hector, and Robert turned to Dennis again.

He said, "Listen to me," his voice quiet, serious. "I don't care how many people you saw get killed and you didn't do nothing. You understand? n.o.body saw what happened here. These two hardcores must've got so worked up, so intense reenacting, they came out here with live ammo to do it right."

"And happened to kill each other," Dennis said.

"Why's that hard to believe? Same as Fish and Eugene, but for a higher cause than a dead dog. That's the point to make. They met a few times and never got along, having opposite views of the war. They'd trade insults, put down each other's heroes, Arlen saying General Grant was a drunk and a speed freak, Jerry saying Stonewall Jackson sucked d.i.c.k, and they come to face each other as a matter of honor. That's it, deciding the honorable thing was fight a duel, same as they would back in those days. What I'm leading up to, what we have to get ready for tomorrow or the next day, is all the press and TV's gonna be here from all over for the story. First Annual Tunica Civil War Muster turns into shootout. The first and I bet the last. You understand .what I'm saying?

They gonna ask us questions once the CIB's done asking, looking for the motive. I could say, well, I wasn't close to Germano Mularoni but I know he hated Southerners, along with all other races. Southerners, 'cause he watched videotapes over and over of that Civil War show was on TV and came to hate what the Confederacy stood for. He hated them still flying the flag and all that s.h.i.+t about heritage. Now take Arlen Novis, you have a diehard Rebel-type former convict who used to be a sheriff's deputy and packed a gun. They look Germano up and find there was a time he also packed and set off high explosives, too. They gonna say, but wasn't this Germano's first reenactment? Yes, it was, and you know why he never did one before? He thought reenactments were p.u.s.s.y, they didn't use loaded guns." He said to Dennis, "And that's right off the top of my head. We get into it I'll work all the motive s.h.i.+t into a routine." He paused, frowning a little.

"But if n.o.body finds these two? I mean in the next couple of days. I don't want them turning to bones."

Dennis, caught up in it, said, "What's wrong with that?" Robert said to Hector, "Listen to my man Dennis."

It encouraged him and he said, "You were gonna put them in the bread truck and they disappear." He wasn't trying to help, he was getting it clear in his mind. "What's the difference?"

"Jerry," Robert said, "changes the situation. No, I need to have them found soon, by tomorrow. And for a good reason."

"The missus," Hector said.

"You got it," Robert said. "Anne won't stand for Jerry being missing, have to wait. How long?

She don't have the patience for that, she'd blow it, start talking." He looked at Dennis and said, "You understand?"

No, he didn't, and shook his head.

"The man has to be seen dead so she can collect on him, the house, the bank accounts, the insurance..." He looked at Hector again. "Somebody's gonna have to make the anonymous phone call to the Tunica sheriff. You and Tonto Rey go on with Groove in the bread truck. Make the call in Memphis and hang around there, Beale Street, man, and let me know where you are. I'll tell you when you can come back here. Hey s.h.i.+t, we're in business. It just hit me. Go on, before Groove leaves on you."

Dennis was watching Walter, down there at the edge of the trees. He said, "What about Walter?" nodding toward him as Robert turned.

"What? You think the man wants to look at a homicide conviction? Walter knows how to put on a face better than I do even."

"What's he doing?"

"Waiting to be called."

Dennis said, "You gonna tell Anne?"

"A widow lady, and she doesn't even know it."

It was the word, as Robert said it, that made Dennis think of Loretta. She didn't know either. He heard Robert talking about Anne, heard the words as he saw Loretta in the tent, saw her holding up her skirt and saw her outside in the chair and stayed with that one, Loretta's face composed. He saw her look up as he walked toward her and heard: "You listening to me?"

"You said you have to keep Anne from celebrating too soon, like throwing a party."

"And I said I only have one worry."

"Yeah ...?"

"And it ain't Annabanana."

Dennis said, "Me?"

"You're here, you're in it same as I am. We not just witnesses, we conspired, we aided, we abetted. If that's true we could be facing prison. In Mississippi. I know you don't want that." Dennis shook his head, no.

"Then why am I worried about you?"

26.

NEWTON HOON SAT IN HIS TRAILER with a jelly gla.s.s of bourbon watching the news: that little TV girl with the two last names in the woods showing where James Rein and Eugene Dean had shot each other, saying both men were from Tunica but nothing about Rose. There she was now in the glade saying this was where Arlen Novis, former Tunica County sheriff's deputy, and Detroit realtor Germano Mularoni staged their duel, calling them reenactors in a senseless confrontation of views that resulted in each man's death. Oh, is that right? No mention of Walter. No mention of the smoke or the two greasers-Newton thinking of the one he'd asked that time where the n.i.g.g.e.r was and the one said he'd gone to f.u.c.k your wife. It had set him off, sure, even knowing it wasn't true. One, Myrna wasn't ever home, she played bingo every night of her life. And two, not even a smoke'd want to f.u.c.k her, Myrna going four hundred pounds on the hoof. Try and find the wet spot on her. with a jelly gla.s.s of bourbon watching the news: that little TV girl with the two last names in the woods showing where James Rein and Eugene Dean had shot each other, saying both men were from Tunica but nothing about Rose. There she was now in the glade saying this was where Arlen Novis, former Tunica County sheriff's deputy, and Detroit realtor Germano Mularoni staged their duel, calling them reenactors in a senseless confrontation of views that resulted in each man's death. Oh, is that right? No mention of Walter. No mention of the smoke or the two greasers-Newton thinking of the one he'd asked that time where the n.i.g.g.e.r was and the one said he'd gone to f.u.c.k your wife. It had set him off, sure, even knowing it wasn't true. One, Myrna wasn't ever home, she played bingo every night of her life. And two, not even a smoke'd want to f.u.c.k her, Myrna going four hundred pounds on the hoof. Try and find the wet spot on her.

Now he was watching a helicopter view of the glades, the woods, the levee road and over to the reenactment site, the tents struck and gone, nothing to see but the barn with the muster sign still on it and empty land.

So much for believing what they tell you on the news. h.e.l.l, he'd seen the whole thing. Phoned Walter yesterday and today and got his answering voice both times, Walter saying he was away from his desk but to leave a message. Both times Newton couldn't think of how to say what he wanted. Let Walter know he saw him shoot Arlen and it was gonna cost him. He didn't think he should leave that as a message, he needed to tell Walter to his face. He called Walter's office in Corinth and was told he was at Southern Living in Tunica. Newton said no he wasn't. They said yes he was, if he'd gone someplace else he'd have let them know. Last night Newton had gone over to the Tishomingo, see if the smoke was still around, and there was the diver putting on his show. He had a good crowd, too, since he'd been on TV and people wanted to see him dive. Newton had nothing personal against the diver-else he'd set up in the trees with a deer rifle and pick him off the ladder. What Arlen should've done. He went inside the hotel to the reception desk and asked, the way Walter would say it, what room the colored fella was in. The girl desk clerk asked him who he was referring to. Newton said, "The jigaboo." He said, "Jesus, how many you got staying here?" The girl asked him what was the guest's name, so she could see was he registered. That was the trouble, s.h.i.+t, he couldn't think of it. Newton went out to the parking lot and roamed up and down the aisles for twenty minutes looking for the black car, came back to the front of the hotel and there it was. He might've known. The big-shot c.o.o.n had it in valet parking.