Death By Rodeo Part V
My name is Sunny Alexander. And I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
In past situations our late night adventures usually consisted of getting tied to posts in a cave waiting for high tide and imminent drowning, or teaming up with ghosts in hospitals to solve murders.
This was the first time either of us stayed up late to go to a bar.
As we neared 8 Seconds we heard music, a country rock number which pummeled us as we opened the door and walked in.
All the booths and tables were packed with men and women wearing various iterations of summertime straws, paisley shirts, cowboy rags, jeans and boots.
A small wooden dance floor crowded with couples was centered in front of a stage where a band provided the crowd a live set of toe tapping entertainment.
Waitress were scurrying about, each wearing jeans which seemed painted on stuffed into boots and sleeveless white blouses tied at their midriffs. Despite the crush of people they wove through the constantly shifting avenues seemingly nonplussed, balancing trays filled with liquor and food as if the trays were glued to their hands.
We had to yell at one another to communicate.
“…find a place?”
“Yeah, try over there.”
As we wound our way through the press of people the band finished their number.
When the applause died down, the front man leaned into his mike and said, “we’re gonna take us a little break here, but when we come back we’re gonna kick it up a notch. How ‘bout that?”
Further comments were drowned in applause, cheers and sharp whistles.
We were still looking for a place to sit when we met Sandy Jamison again. Darting down the row of booths she skidded to a stop in front of us.
“Hey ya’ll. Glad you could make it. Come on. You guys can sit with me and my grandparents.”
“We wouldn’t want to intrude Sandy.”
“Oh heck, you ain’t intruding. Grandpa wants to meet Mr. Henry anyway.”
“You hear that Sunny? I’m famous.”
“You wish old man.”
We followed Sandy along the length of booths then stopped at a booth where an elderly couple sat. The old man’s straw was pushed up, revealing a face deeply tanned and leathery from years we could only assume spent toiling in harsh sun and brutish weather. Next to him sat his wife, a darling dumpling of a woman, her hair pulled back in a tight gray bun. She beamed a smile at us, her blue eyes twinkling.
After Sandy slid into the booth we followed her, both of us reaching across the table and shaking hands with Sandy’s grandparents.
A waitress popped up and took our drink order.
“Hey ya’ll. Whatcha drinking tonight?”
“You got Shiner on tap?”
“Sure do.”
“I’ll take a tall boy.”
“And you honey?”
“I’ll take the same.”
“Really Sunny? No white wine spritzer or Chardonnay?”
“Can it Henry. When in Rome. Besides I doubt this place serves wine in anything but a box.”
“Uh, you two married? I’m mean I ain’t got nothing against mixed marriages or nuthin’. Just curious.”
“It’s Jim right?”
“Yeap.”
“No Jim, we just work together for a…”
“Well, you two was getting along like me and Sally on a normal day, so I just figured you was…”
“Jim, you can be such a jackass sometimes.”
“What Sally? I was just saying…”
“We all heard you Jim. Why not let them two talk instead of blowing all your hot air?”
“We’re writers for a magazine Jim, and we’re both taking a break. Decided to take in the rodeo.”
“So Sandy told me how you helped her this morning. Amazing she’d take advice from a stranger when I been tellin’ her the same danged thing for weeks now.”
“Awe Grandpa, you always get frustrated and moan and complain. Grandma says I should just let it go in one ear and out the other.”
“Yeah, I just bet…”
“I said turn me loose Justin!”
We craned our necks to see where the shouting was coming from.
Sitting at a table in the center of the room a young man had his arms around one of the waitress. When he pulled her to his lap, three men sitting with him began to laugh and slap the top of the table.
“Ride that filly Justin.”
“Justin let go, you’re hurting me.”
“All’s I want is a little kiss baby. How about you sit on my lap and we talk about the first thing comes up?”
The other three men roared with laughter.
“Sally? Jim? Excuse me for a minute okay?”
“Henry where the hell are you going?”
“Just sit tight Sunny, I’ll be back.”
“Oh no. Where you go I go. Remember?”
We covered the distance from our booth to the table, waiting until we had the young man’s attention.
“Let her go.”
“Well what’s this? A grandpa and his nanny out on a Saturday night? You sure you brought enough diapers for the old man honey?”
“Don’t call me honey you prick.”
“Oh, a feisty bitch. I like that.”
“Like I said before. Let her go.”
“Or you’ll do what old timer? I don’t think you and your black nanny there want to tangle with the four of us.”
“Oh no you didn’t…”
“Sunny, chill. Mister, you don’t know this yet, but you and your posse here are so outnumbered if you start something, I don’t think you’ll be driving home tonight.”
The young man pushed the waitress away so hard she landed on her butt. Immediately she sprang up and backed away.
The man stood as did the other three.
“An old man and a woman against the four of us? It’ll be you not driving home tonight you son of a bitch.”
“Look son…”
“You ain’t my daddy.”
“Look son. I’m giving you one more chance. You may think you’ve got the upper hand, but I’ve got something you don’t.”
“And what’s that old man? I don’t see no gun on you.”
“I ain’t got a gun on me. Don’t need it. I’ve got the Cowboy Code.”
The young man snickered and gazed at his buddies.
“Ooh, he has the Cowboy Code ya’ll. We’d better hightail it now. Tell you what old man, I’ll give you thirty seconds to tell us what the fuck the Cowboy Code is then I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Won’t need that much time. May I use this chair?”
“I see you try to swing it and I’ll lay your ass out.”
“Nope, I’m going to stand on it.”
“Excuse me everybody can I have your attention? I bear witness tonight to every man and woman in this establishment I have witnessed a violation of the Cowboy Code. If there are any of you who’ve forgotten your upbringing, who’ve forgotten the code of morals taught to us when we were young, allow me to refresh your memories.
“A Cowboy must never hit a smaller man or take unfair advantage…He must never go back on his word or a trust confided in him…”
Three men in a booth on the left side of the room slid out and stood up. Each of them replied in unison.
“He must always tell the truth.”
“Thank you gentlemen. A Cowboy must be gentle with children, the elderly and animals…”
Another man several tables away at the front stood up.
“He must not advocate religious or racially intolerant ideas.”
“Right. A Cowboy must help people in distress…”
Three men stepped away from the bar and stood side by side as they chimed in. “He must keep himself clean in thought and action.”
Four gentlemen sitting at a table near the dance floor stood and replied, “he must respect women, parents and his nation’s laws and be a patriot.”
“Thank you all.”
“Here’s your chair back. So let’s see son, counting my raggedy old ass and this pretty young thing standing next to me that’s thirteen to your four. You want to give it a shot now?”
All of the men who’d stood closed ranks behind us. One of the men said, “Justin why don’t you just get your ass out while you’re still in one piece. We’re not taking shit from you no more. We don’t care who your daddy is.”
As the four men stalked their way toward the front door the gauntlet of men opened to allow them to pass then closed again.
When the band started up again everybody cheered and while some hit the dance floor, others turned their attention to their drinks, their food and their company.
There was still plenty of partying to do.
READ ON — DEATH BY RODEO PART VI
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Conclusion
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