Oh, darling, darling, darling, I love you so much. I've always loved you and I always will, whatever happens. Always, darling. Always and always. Forever and forever.
Always and forever,
Amy
21
Well. WELL?
What are you going to do? What are you going to say?
What are you going to say when you're drowning in your own dung and they keep booting you back into it, when all the screams in hell wouldn't be as loud as you want to scream, when you're at the bottom of the pit and the whole world's at the top, when it has but one face, a face without eyes or ears, and yet it watches and listens…
What are you going to do and say? Why, pardner, that's simple. It's easy as nailing your balls to a stump and falling off backwards. Snow again, pardner, and drift me hard, because that's an easy one.
You're gonna say, they can't keep a good man down. You're gonna say, a winner never quits and a quitter never wins. You're gonna smile, boy, you're gonna show 'em the ol' fightin' smile. And then you're gonna get out there an' hit 'em hard and fast and low, an'-an' Fight!"
Rah.
I folded the letter, and tossed it back to Howard.
"She was sure a talky little girl," I said. "Sweet but awful talky. Seems like if she couldn't say it to you, she'd write it down for you."
Howard swallowed. "That-that's all you have to say?"
I lit a cigar, pretending like I hadn't heard him. Jeff Plummer's chair creaked. "I sure liked Miss Amy," he said. "All four of my younguns went to school to her, an' she was just as nice as if they'd had one of these oilmen for a daddy."
"Yes, sir," I said, "I reckon she really had her heart in her work."
I puffed on my cigar, and Jeff's chair creaked again, louder than the first time, and the hate in Howard's eyes seemed to lash out against me. He gulped like a man choking down puke.
"You fellows getting restless?" I said. "I sure appreciate you dropping in at a time like this, but I wouldn't want to keep you from anything important."
"You-y-you!"
"You starting to stutter, Howard? You ought to practice talking with a pebble in your mouth. Or maybe a piece of shrapnel."
"You dirty son-of-a-bitch! You-"
"Don't call me that," I said.
"No," said Jeff, "don't call him that. Don't never say anything about a man's mother."
"To hell with that crap! He-you"-he shook his fist at me-"you killed that little girl. She as good as says so!"
I laughed. "She wrote it down after I killed her, huh? That's quite a trick."
"You know what I mean. She knew you were going to kill her…"
"And she was going to marry me, anyway?"
"She knew you'd killed all those other people!"
"Yeah? Funny she didn't mention it."
"She did mention it! She-"
"Don't recall seeing anything like that. Don't see that she said anything much. Just a lot of woman-worry talk."
"You killed Joyce Lakeland and Elmer Conway and Johnnie Pappas and-"
"President McKinley?"
He sagged back in his chair, breathing hard. "You killed them, Ford. You killed them."
"Why don't you arrest me, then? What are you waiting on?"
"Don't worry," he nodded grimly. "Don't you worry. I'm not waiting much longer."
"And I'm not either," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you and your courthouse gang are doing spite work. You're pouring it on me because Conway says to, just why I can't figure out. You haven't got a shred of proof but you've tried to smear me-"
"Now, wait a minute! We haven't-"
"You've tried to; you had Jeff out here this morning chasing visitors away. You'd do it, but you can't because you haven't got a shred of proof and people know me too well. You know you can't get a conviction, so you try to ruin my reputation. And with Conway backing you up you may manage it in time. You'll manage it if you have the time, and I guess I can't stop you. But I'm not going to sit back and take it. I'm leaving town, Howard."
"Oh, no you're not. I'm warning you here and now, Ford, don't you even attempt to leave."
"Who's going to stop me?"
"I am."
"On what grounds?"
"Mur-suspicion of murder."
"But who suspects me, Howard, and why? The Stantons? I reckon not. Mike Pappas? Huh-uh. Chester Conway? Well, I've got kind of a funny feeling about Conway, Howard. I've got a feeling that he's going to stay in the background, he's not going to do or say a thing, no matter how bad you need him."
"I see," he said. "I see."
"You see that opening there behind you?" I said. "Well, that's a door, Howard, in case you were wonderin', and I can't think of a thing to keep you and Mister Plummer from walking through it."
"We're walking through it," said Jeff, "and so are you."
"Huh-uh," I said, "no I ain't. I sure ain't aimin' to do nothing like that, Mister Plummer. And that's a fact."
Howard kept his seat. His face looked like a blob of reddish dough, but he shook his head at Jeff and kept his seat. Howard was really trying hard.
"I-it's to your own interest as well as ours to get this settled, Ford. I'm asking you to place yourself-to remain available until-"
"You mean you want me to cooperate with you?" I said.
"Yes."
"That door," I said. "I wish you'd close it real careful. I'm suffering from shock, and I might have a relapse."
Howard's mouth twisted and opened, and snapped shut. He sighed and reached for his hat.
"I sure liked Bob Maples," said Jeff. "I sure liked that little Miss Amy."
"Sure enough?" I said, "Is that a fact?"
I laid my cigar down on an ashtray, leaned back on the pillow and closed my eyes. A chair creaked and squeaked real loud, and I heard Howard say, "Now Jeff"-and there was a sound like he'd sort of stumbled.
I opened my eyes again. Jeff Plummer was standing over me.
He was smiling down at me with his lips and there was a.45 in his hand, and the hammer was thumbed back.
"You right sure you ain't coming with us?" he said. "You don't reckon you could change your mind?"
The way he sounded I knew he hoped I wouldn't change it. He was just begging, waiting for me to say no. And I reckoned I wouldn't say all of even a short word like that before I was past saying anything.
I got up and began to dress.
22
If I'd known that Rothman's lawyer friend, Billy Boy Walker, was tied up in the East and was having trouble getting away, I might have felt different. I might have cracked up right off. But, on the other hand, I don't think I would have. I had a feeling that I was speeding fast down a one-way trail, that I was almost to the place I had to get to. I was almost there and moving fast, so why hop off and try to run ahead? It wouldn't have made a particle of sense, and you know I don't do things that don't make sense. You know it or you will know it.
That first day and that night, I spent in one of the «quiet» cells, but the next morning they put me on ice, down in the cooler where I'd-where Johnnie Pappas had died. They- How's that? Well, sure they can do it to you. They can do anything they're big enough to do and you're little enough to take. They don't book you. No one knows where you are, and you've got no one on the outside that can get you out. It's not legal, but I found out long ago that the place where the law is apt to be abused most is right around a courthouse.
Yeah, they can do it all right.
So I was saying. I spent the first day and night in one of the quiet cells, and most of the time I was trying to kid myself. I couldn't face up to the truth yet, so I tried to play like there was a way around it. You know. Those kid games?