Where the Walls are Soft…

In Case You Missed It:

Part I - The Waitress
Part II - The Whiskey
Part III - The Handcuffs

Ruby was having a lovely dream. She knew it was a dream because she could hear Roy snoring, but Roy was dead two years last Christmas. She dreamed she lay in bed in the early morning; the birds were singing to beat the band, and she knew it would be a stunningly bright summer day by the way the light filtered in through her eyelids. Her youngest, Mary, was snuggled up in front of her, having crawled into bed with them some time through the night, like she did when she was a wee sma’. Ruby held her close and squeezed her a little tighter. In her dream, it became Mary that was snoring like a saw, and Ruby started to giggle. Then the smell hit her.

Her eyes flew open, and she was staring down at the top of The Little Drunk’s greasy head. He stunk of piss and vomit, and last night’s liquor. When she realized she was wet from the waist down, Ruby’s stomach did a slow roll. Here she was, arms wrapped around Wilson Jones, handcuffed to him, and he’d gone and wet the bed sometime before she’d woken up. Dream shattered to bits, she was livid.

“Wilson, you little drunk, I could throttle you!” she hollered at him. He jumped to his feet, fully awake and scared to death. Ruby was hauled across the bed by the handcuff. Awareness slowly dawned on The Little Drunk’s face, and he stood there, chin down, looking ashamed of himself.

“Good Christ, Wilson, if you can’t control yourself, you oughtta not drink!” Ruby yelled again, not in the least bit sorry for him. She untangled herself, and stood up. She was soaked through her clothes from the bodice of her dress down to the hem, and ready to spit. Worse, she’d forgot to take her apron off, and the bundle of paper money Judd had stuffed in her pocket was scattered all over the wet tick, stuck to the covers that she hadn’t bothered to turn down when they’d gone to sleep. When she saw Judd Gulley she would give him a dressing-down like he’d never had before.

Thinking of Judd, Ruby hoped he’d returned to The Dump, and was waiting downstairs in the bar. She’d put up with his mouth just long enough to get the cuffs off, and then she’d tell him where he could stick his job. If he tried to give her more money, she’d dang well take every cent, and then tell him to stick the job even farther. She’d had her limit, she had. Judd Gulley could wash his own sheets and blankets.

She propelled Wilson down the stairs, but of course, there was no Judd Gulley to be seen. That was alright with Ruby; she knew where he lived, and she intended to give him a rude awakening.

The state that both she and The Little Drunk were in, though, gave her pause for thought. She didn’t want to stink up her truck. How was she ever going to manage to get the two of them cleaned up? She was mad enough, that if there had been a hose outside, she would’ve just hosed Wilson down in icy water, but there was no such thing as a garden hose at The Dump. They would have to use the shower upstairs.

She sighed and hauled Wilson back up the stairs. She took her apron off and turned on the shower, shoving The Little Drunk into the stall, clothes and all. She handed him a bar of soap and instructed him to start scrubbing, beginning with his shirt, which was still covered with Wally McDonald’s dried puke. She wondered if Wilson ever bothered to shower often enough to know how to go about it properly; she had to give him new instructions every few minutes. She finally finished the job herself, since her entire right arm had to be in the shower with him anyway.

When she thought he was clean enough to do, she spread a towel on the floor and had him stand on it while she squeezed water out of his clothes as best she could. Then she stepped under the water herself. Of course, it wasn’t hot anymore, and by the time she scrubbed herself and her dress down, it was freezing. At least she didn’t stink as bad, but she expected she’d be uncomfortable wearing wet clothing for the next hour or two.

She crossed to Wilson’s room, hauling him along, and peeled the money off the bed. Holding the bills gingerly by the corners, she led Wilson back down the stairs to the kitchen. The fire in the cook stove had gone out long ago, but the water in the reservoir was still uncomfortably hot to touch. She put the money in a pan and poured water over it.

She thought she really ought to feed Wilson some breakfast, but the idea of trying to get a fire going in the old stove with him cuffed to her arm tired her out before she fully formed it in her mind. Breakfast for the both of them would have to wait until Judd got these cuffs off. She thought of the large breakfast her mother would be serving about now, and her stomach growled.

Her mother! Good Lord, she hadn’t let her mother know she wasn’t coming home. There was no phone at The Dump, of course; she’d have to remember to stop at the highway corner before she turned off the side road, and use the pay phone. She had no idea what she would say, but she’d have to come up with something. She’d need an excuse for missing church, but if being handcuffed to Wilson Jones overnight wasn’t reason enough to miss church, she guessed she’d just burn in hell.

“Come on, Wilson. Let’s go find Judd and Wally. I have some yelling to do.”

It wasn’t until they got into the cab of Ruby’s old Ford, that she realized their problems were just beginning. She couldn’t shift gears without The Little Drunk sitting smack up against her. There was no way to avoid driving straight down Main Street to get to Judd’s house. Everybody and his brother and his cousin’s Aunt Grace would be on their way to church, and here she would be, driving up the main drag for all to see, with Wilson Jones practically sitting in her lap. The only people that rode around like that were the teeny-boppers, and even they had the sense not to be so indiscreet on a Sunday morning. This may have been the first time in all her 30-something years that Ruby truly felt that life just wasn’t fair.

She remembered in the nick of time to stop at the pay phone, then had to go through more rigamarole to make the call. First of all, she had no change, and had to ask Wilson to dig through his pockets. Then she had to pick through the mess of screws and coins he came up with to find a nickel. She lifted the receiver. There was a buzz-click and then the operator came on the line.

“Operator…”

“Hey, Flora; it’s Ruby Daniel. Will you ring home for me, please?”

“Well, hey there, Ruby, sure thing. Two longs and a short?”

“That’s right.”

There was another buzz-click followed by a pause. Sometimes when placing a call, you could hear the ghost of a ring from far, far away. Most times, you heard nothing but a hum, which let you know the operator was still on the line. Today it was just the hum, but Ruby knew the phone in the front hallway at home was sounding out two long buzzing “rings” followed by a short, sharp one, over and over. Ruby grimaced a little, knowing that the same noise was blasting in every other house up the North Side Road, and hoped the neighbours were too busy with church preparations to sneakily pick up their receivers once the ringing stopped. She pictured her mother lumbering up the hall toward the phone, muttering for the caller to wait for her, she was a-coming.

“HULLO! DANIEL!!” Her mother always hollered into the phone, certain it was the only way to be heard at all.

“Ma?”

“RUBY, WHERE THE BEJEEZUS ARE YOU AT?! WE’RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SERVICE! THE KIDS IS ALREADY DRESSED!”

“I run into a spot at The Dump, Ma. Listen -”

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

Ruby could still hear the tell-tale hum that indicated Flora was listening in on the call. There was no way on God’s green earth she was going to tell her mother what happened.

“Nothing serious, Ma, but listen, I can’t get home in time for church. You gotta ask up the line for a lift in. I’ll do my best to get there before it’s over.” She knew there was no way she would ever make that service, but hopefully that would be enough explanation for her mother.

“Y’ALRIGHT?”

Just then, Ruby heard a ringing noise, and knew Flora had to direct a call from another party line. There was that buzz-click again, and then the hum disappeared. Still, Ruby wasn’t taking any chances.

“Yeah, Ma; I’m fine and all. I’ll see you at church.”

She hung up the phone and waited for Flora to ring back. Her right arm was feeling almost dead, as she’d had to have it hanging through the door of the truck this whole time. When the phone buzzed she picked it up.

“Hey, Flora.”

“Hey, Ruby. Five cents, please.” Ruby dropped her nickel in the slot, and listened to it tumble down into the bowels of the pay phone. Flora thanked her kindly, and rang off. Ruby got back in the truck, praying that she wouldn’t run into the whole town on Main Street. She shook the tingles out of her arm before she turned the ignition, making The Little Drunk laugh. Ruby couldn’t wait to get to Judd’s house.

Highway 17 ran smack through the middle of town, so, for a short stretch, the highway actually became Main Street. A quarter of a mile from The Dump Side Road, the highway curved left through a rock cut, and suddenly you were among storefronts and pedestrians. This left Ruby precious little time to decide what to do about gossipy church-goers who might notice Wilson Jones and Ruby Daniel practically spooning in the cab of her truck, at 10 am on a Sunday morning. They’d have a hay day, she knew, and she’d be a long time living it down. In fact, she figured people would bring it up and laugh every now and again for years after she was in the ground.

The truck was just going into the curve when Ruby had an idea.

“Wilson, get on the floor,” she ordered, and shoved him off the seat. He lay on the floor under the dashboard with his right arm hovering between the seat and the stick, hanging off Ruby’s arm, as her hand rested on the gear-shift. She shifted down to first as they came out of the curve and onto Main Street, and The Little Drunk yelped as his arm was yanked around.

Sure enough. the church parking lot was full, and cars were lined up along the sidewalk in front. The town was tiny, but people came in from all over the outlying district for church on Sundays. The only time Main Street was as busy as on a Sunday morning was during the Community Day parade. She drove down Main, nodding at folks that waved, reminding herself over and over that the only reason they were staring at her was that she was driving right past the church instead of parking and walking in. She was relieved to finally turn down Judd’s Street.

She parked in front of Judd’s house. His cruiser wasn’t in the drive. Ruby sat dejected, wondering what to do next. Wilson started to climb back up on the seat and she shoved him back down, a little absently.

She remembered that Wally McDonald had a cousin in the next town up the line, and wondered at the chances that they might be there. She checked her gas gauge and wondered if she had enough fuel to get there and back. Maybe she could fill up at Bernie’s station on the way out of town; he’d be at church anyhow.

She drove back to Main Street and turned right. Looking left, she could see the street was still filled with cars, but there were no signs of people, so service must have started. She felt better about that, as she pulled into Bernie’s and dragged The Little Drunk out of the truck. She pumped the tank full, and went into the building to leave Bernie a note, saying she’d be by to pay him the next day.

By the time she got to Wally’s cousin’s place, Wilson was asleep with his head on her shoulder. No Judd. No Wally. No cruiser. She decided to drive the side roads, hoping to catch sight of Judd’s car somewhere.

Two and a half hours later they were still driving around, and she was no closer to getting out of this mess than she had been when she woke up that morning. She shoved The Little Drunk back down on the floor while she drove through town again. The streets were deserted, which was not unusual for a Sunday afternoon, really, but it was awful strange that there weren’t vehicles in the driveways at least. Ruby was starting to feel like she was starring in one of the popular horror movies the kids watched at the theater in Thessalon on Saturday nights.

She was out of ideas. She drove back to The Dump, wondering what the heck to do next. When she hustled Wilson through the door, she stopped short in surprise.

There was a rope strung across the room, and hanging from it were the sheets and blankets from The Little Drunk’s bed, clean and drying. The now-empty straw tick was hanging there, too, and her apron was laying out to dry over the backs of a couple of chairs. The floor had been scrubbed. Sitting at the bar with a glass of whiskey in front of her, was Ruby’s mother.

“Ruby, I got to tell you, you left this place a right mess. Shameful.” She made a face into her whiskey glass. “Almost as shameful as this watery piss Judd Gulley tries to pass off as booze.”

Ruby was having a hard time recovering from the shock of seeing her mother in such a place as The Dump, let alone drinking whiskey on a Sunday afternoon. She almost felt sorry for her, though; of all the barrels her mother could have chosen to draw from, she’d managed to pick the only one full of swish.

“I been looking for Judd. What are you doing here, Ma?”

“I come to see what the bejeezus was going on, didn’t I? Why are you hog-tied to Wilson Jones of all people?”

“Fairies,” Wilson said.

“Fairies, my patoot,” snorted Ruby’s mother. “Judd Gulley’ll have some come-uppance out of this business, I guess. Guess you clean forgot about the Donkey baseball match today. That’s where he’ll be, dollars to donuts.” Her mother looked her up and down. “Just as well, by the look of you. Sit down, and let’s get you fixed up.”

Ruby and The Little Drunk sat down across from each other while Ruby’s mother took a closer look at the handcuffs.

“Ain’t gonna work, Ma,” said Ruby as her mother picked up the straightened bobbypin that Ruby had dropped on the table in disgust the night before. Three seconds later, her wrist was free of the cuff, and Wilson’s followed suit shortly. His face split into a grin and he bobbed his head at Ruby’s mother in thanks. Ruby just sat there, stunned, rubbing her wrist.

“Betcher hungry as a bear, ain’t you, Wilson?” Ruby’s mother patted him on the head and sat down, tucking the handcuffs into the pocket of her apron. “Ruby, go on in the kitchen and lift us all a bowl of stew. How’s your sister keeping, Wilson?”

Ruby left them talking family, surprised that The Little Drunk managed a normal conversation with her mother. Most folks were a little frightened of the woman. And Ruby had a new respect for her. Where in the world did she learn to open a handcuff with a bobbypin?!

The kitchen was spotless. On the cook stove, a pot of beef stew was simmering nicely. As Ruby was ladling it into bowls, she noticed the money Judd had stuffed into her apron was all spread out and dry on the warming shelf. She folded up the bills and tucked them away, smiling. Her mother had taken care of everything while Ruby was gallavanting all over the countryside in search of Judd.

She brought the stew out to the bar, and while they ate, Ruby thanked her mother for cleaning the place while she was gone. Ruby’s mother said that was fine. Ruby said she was quitting Judd Gulley for good after this business. Her mother said she most certainly was not.

“You’ll show for work just like you always do on Friday night.”

“Not this time, Ma. I’m done.”

“No, you ain’t. And I’m not done with Judd Gulley, either. I have me a bit of an idea.”

“Fairies,” said Wilson, around a mouthful of beef stew.

TO BE CONTINUED

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 24th, 2007 at 7:23 am and is filed under The Waitress. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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