Where the Walls are Soft…

Done. Can you believe it?! And only a year and 4 months late. I’ve shocked myself with my speed, I really have…

In Case You Missed It:

Part I - The Waitress
Part II - The Whiskey
Part III - The Handcuffs
Part IV - The Great Escape

Ruby’s life went on pretty much the same after the handcuff incident. Ruby didn’t like it much, but then, she hadn’t liked it much before, either. And she’d learned enough shocking things about her mother over the past while, that she somehow trusted her to come up with a secret little plan for revenge against Judd Gulley. The more she thought about it, the more the idea of “revenge” struck Ruby as not only fair and just, but somehow an obligation. It was the waiting that was getting to her.

Judd spent a few weeks transparently not mentioning the handcuff incident at all. Every Friday night when Ruby came home, her mother would be at the kitchen table, working the crossword out of the paper, waiting for her. The first thing she would ask was whether or not Judd had mentioned “it” to Ruby, and every night the answer was “No.” This invariably sent her mother into gales of laughter. Finally, Ruby, in a fit of annoyance, asked why that was so funny.

“Oh, Ruby,” her mother laughed, wiping her eyes on her apron. “Don’t you see? It’s driving him nuts. He can’t figure out how you got out of that mess, and worse, he didn’t get the laugh out of it that he was hopin’ for. Nobody saw you handcuffed to Wilson Jones; even the fools that were there were too tight to remember it. There goes all Judd Gulley’s fun, poor stupid sap.” And off she went into another fit of laughter. Ruby remained unimpressed.

“Well, when are you gonna tell me this dastardly plan of yours? I’m not gonna keep going back into The Dump every weekend. You said you were gonna fix things, and here I am still schlomping booze to a bunch of drunks. I’ve had enough, Ma.”

“Don’t you worry none, Ruby. It won’t be long now. Just let things get back to normal.”

Ruby didn’t like it, but she didn’t have much choice but to wait. Meanwhile, she spent the rest of the summer’s weekends mopping spilled beer and puke, and changing the straw in The Little Drunk’s tick. Wilson was a little more careful with the drink, now, though. He seemed to make slightly more sense when he was sober, she noticed, but he never missed a night of his bed-wetting routine.

Over the next little while, Judd slowly stopped looking at Ruby sideways, and got back into his routine of bellyaching, blustering and drinking his customers under the table while pocketing their hard-earned money, all the while cheating under their noses. It wasn’t until the Whiskey Game had gone through several more weekends that Ruby’s mother allowed the first step of her plan to be implemented. That first step alone seemed to take forever, because, as Ruby’s mother said, it had to be done in stages for it to work. Judd may be a stupid galoot, but he knew his whiskey, and the change had to take place gradually. On that last weekend in August, Ruby started to “un-swish” the swish barrel.

The way Judd made his swish was to siphon half the whiskey of a full barrel of “straight” stuff into a second barrel, and top it up with plain water. Then, every now and again, the barrel had to be shaken around to even out the mix. Of course, this job, too, had fallen to Ruby, along with the rest of the grunt work involved with running The Dump. Every time Ruby went into the stock room behind the bar, she would grab the barrel by the edges and give it a “swish”. This did keep the mix even for the most part, but for good measure, Judd had her add a dipper or two of water now and again as the contents got close to the quarter mark. Ruby wondered if he was drinking flavored water by the time the swish hit the dregs.

“Prolly is,” her mother stated flatly, when Ruby remarked on this. “There’s another good reason to take it slow. Just edge it up a quart at first and see if he notices.”

He didn’t. He started a game of Whiskey that very night, and Ruby held her breath while she watched him throw back his shot of swish, while the rest drank straight-up booze. Her heart gave a queer little flip-flop when a grimace came over Judd’s face after he’d tossed the first shot or two back, but then she recognized it as what passed for his “fake face”. If the other guys coughed and made a face, Judd felt he’d better, too, so as not to give away his game. Ruby shook her head, feeling somehow that it made the whole charade even more of a cheat than watering down his own whiskey just to win a stupid drinking game.

The very next night, she topped up the swish barrel with another quart of straight whiskey. She almost blew the whole plan right there, because Judd did notice this time. Luckily, it didn’t occur to him that Ruby was up to any shenanigans; just that she might be off her game.

“You ain’t been swishing that barrel,” he hissed at her in the kitchen, after excusing himself for a “call of nature, boys!” Ruby thought fast and blasted him.

“Do you see the crowd out there?! Go swish your own barrel, Judd Gulley; I’m busy!” she hissed right back, and it seemed to mollify him. She did notice, later, that when he went in to swish the barrel, he also added three dippers full of water to it. She harumphed to herself that it only saved her the bother of fixing her own mistake, anyway.

The following weekend, Ruby only added a half-quart of whiskey to the barrel on Friday night, and the second half-quart waited until Saturday. She made sure to swish the barrel several times throughout the weekend, and Judd seemed none the wiser. He kept on winning the pot, too, so she figured she had a way yet to go. It was a Friday afternoon several weeks later that she saw a flaw in her mother’s plan. She drove to the phone booth in a panic and called home.

“HULLO! DANIEL!!” yelled her mother after thirteen rings.

“I got a problem, Ma,” Ruby began.

“Y’ALRIGHT?”

“Yeah, but the barrel’s empty and Judd’s already made his mix.”

“SO? START OVER.”

“What do you mean, ’start over’?! I got no idea where we’re at!”

“GOOD CHRIST, I’VE RAISED AN IJIT. COME GET ME; I’LL DO IT MYSELF.”

So, Ruby went and picked her mother up and brought her back to The Dump, where she asked Ruby question after question. How full was the barrel when she’d added that first quart of whiskey? How many quarts had she added since? How often did Judd go in there and add water to the mix, and how much did he add? As Ruby answered all these questions, her mother worked out figures on a notepad, licking the stub of an old pencil between chicken scratches.

“Don’t we need to know how many quarts fit in a barrel?” Ruby finally asked.

“I know how many quarts are in a whiskey barrel,” her mother replied. Ruby believed her. Ruby would believe just about anything her mother said, now.

After a time, Ruby’s mother told her how much swish she needed to siphon from the barrel and replace with straight whiskey. Ruby didn’t question her; she went straight to work. And sure enough, Judd didn’t blink once that night, but for the first time, Ruby noticed he seemed just a little wobbly on his feet. She began to feel, finally, that her mother’s idea might really work.

She wasn’t pleased for long, however. That night Wally and several others totaled the place with a knock-down, drag-out fist fight, overturning tables and breaking chairs. The finale came when each and all got sick in a different corner and Judd gave them the toss. He even banished Wally, sending him out to sleep it off in the back of the cruiser. As Ruby sighed and began to set the place to rights again, she caught The Little Drunk’s eye. He gave her a sly wink.

“Fish always stinks from the head downwards,” he intoned soberly.

“I don’t know what that means, Wilson, but I’m sure you’re right,” Ruby replied. Wilson grinned at her, and then got up and helped her move the furniture back where it belonged.

It was half-way through October when her mother told her to back off with the whiskey.

“Just let it ride as it is, Ruby; we don’t want him losin’ that game for two more Fridays.”

Ruby was mad. “Why not, Ma?! I been a long time waiting, already, and I want outta there!”

Ruby’s mother wouldn’t budge, though. Ruby had to try to keep the swish barrel at the same strength for the next two weeks - no easy feat, but she managed. On the last Friday of October, her mother gave Ruby new instructions as they were tidying up the breakfast dishes.

“Tonight, bump it up a little.”

Ruby was vexed. “Ma, when’s this gonna be done and over with?”

Her mother laughed, “This is it, Ruby. Tonight Judd Gulley gets his comeuppance. Well, I guess that’ll come tomorrow, but it starts tonight, don’t it?”

“What do you mean, tomorrow? This is it. I’m not going back in that place again after tonight!”

“Nor will you need to, Ruby, ” her mother tried to soothe her. “And the second you see Judd start to wobble, tonight, I want you to start serving him straight shots.”

Ruby went in to The Dump that afternoon in a fair state of mind, looking forward to finally being free of the place. Her mood was dampened a little when she found Judd already there, and in one foul temper, to boot. She made herself scarce in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for the supper hour, rather than deal with him.

As the evening wore on, she began to get nervous. Judd was off-duty, and so started drinking early. She was so nervous about what was about to come that she nearly forgot to “bump up” the swish barrel as per her mother’s instructions. By the time, she remembered, the place was full and she didn’t have time to go back and do it. It was Judd, himself, that fixed that problem for her.

“Go shake that barrel, would you?” he demanded in her ear, as she scrubbed down a table.

“My, but aren’t you the ornery one, tonight, Judd Gulley,” she snarled at him, but she went readily enough, and she did shake the barrel - but only after she topped it up with a full quart of straight whiskey. Her hand shook a little when she set down the first of the stronger shots in front of Judd. She was sure he would notice this time, but her mother was right after all.

After being slowly coaxed back onto the real thing, or, at least, a stronger-than-usual version of it, Judd had lost the ability to taste the difference. He’d also lost what little skill he had in holding his liquor; he was showing signs of drunkenness before he’d even called the first game of Whiskey.

The first man out was The L’il Drunk, and Ruby helped him up the stairs and into bed. She didn’t have the heart to warn him not to wet his bed, as usual, knowing what was coming.

Three shots into the next game, Judd began to weave a little when he set his glass down on the table. Ruby poured the next round, and this time all the shots on the tray were the real deal. She held her breath as Judd downed his, but he didn’t seem to know the difference. That was the round that Wally passed out on, too, before he’d even lifted his glass.

“Hey!” Judd yelled at Wally, “Wake up, you drunk arse, you! We’re in the middle of a game, here!”

When Wally didn’t twitch, Judd picked up the glass and threw it back himself.

“No refunds, either. That’ll teach you.” He was having trouble speaking now, but didn’t seem to realize it, himself. The rest of the fellas at the table did, though. Slowly, a new light seemed to seep into their eyes, as they began to hope that this might be the night that the King of Whiskey was finally toppled.

They quickly threw another dollar each into the center of the table, and urged Ruby to bring on another tray of shots. That round went by with all players still in, although Judd seemed to lean further and further to the left.

The next round was the end for one, but it wasn’t Judd. Ruby was relieved that, so far, none had upchucked, but she didn’t hold out much hope for things to remain that way. Judd was three sheets to the wind, but he didn’t seem to be close to losing the game. There were three left in, aside from him, and one player wanted to stand down. Judd berated him, until he agreed to go one more round… and that’s when everything went to hell.

The shots were thrown back. Judd had a bit of a time with his. He hiccuped. He swallowed hard. He weaved back and forth in his chair. Everybody at the table, and Ruby from the bar, watched intently, waiting to see if he would fall over, retch, or both. He did neither.

Judd’s eyes roamed over the room and slowly settled on Ruby. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on her face.

“You,” he slurred, “You switched barrels on me.”

Ruby’s hands shook as she wiped down the bar, but she stared him down.

The rest of the boys looked from Ruby to Judd and back again. Finally one of them spoke.

“What’s he talking about, Ruby?”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea, Doug,” Ruby replied.

“Oh, yes, you do, you ol’ prude, you!” roared Judd. He stood up suddenly, and just as suddenly sat right back down again.

“You been cheating us all along, ain’t you Judd?” Doug accused him. The rest looked too shocked to speak, but the truth was slowly dawning on them.

“Now, Doug…” Judd began. And then he lay his head down on the table, belched once, and started to snore.

“Why, that bastard!” yelled Doug. “I’ve a mind to-”

“Sit down, Doug Ennis. You’re not gonna do a thing but get yourself and your pals home.” It was Ruby’s mother, standing in the doorway. “You might just divvy up that pot on the table, ‘fore you leave. Go on now. Bar’s closing.”

Ruby had no idea why her mother had cut it so close, unless she’d sat in the parking lot a spell, but she was relieved to see her, just the same. She took the bag of clothes that her mother handed her and went upstairs with them.

As the last of the clientele vacated the premises, Ruby gently woke the L’il Drunk. He was a mess, having already wet his bed, but this time, Ruby didn’t yell at him.

“Come on, Wilson, get up. I’ve got some clean clothes here for you, but you gotta change downstairs. Can you get down there do you think?”

“If there’s turnips, I’ll manage.”

“That almost makes some sense, Wilson. Maybe I’ll cook you up some at my place. You’re gonna sleep there tonight.”

Wilson managed the stairs nicely, with a little help, and bobbed his head at Ruby’s mother.

“Set yourself down, Wilson. We’ll just be a little bit longer,” she said. “Grab an arm, Ruby.”

Ruby took hold of Judd and helped her mother drag him up the stairs. He was a heavy man, and a dead weight. By the time they’d dumped him on the wet straw tick, they were both fairly out of puff.

“One more, Ruby. Let’s get ‘er done,” said her mother. Ruby didn’t think she could pull another drunk up those stairs, but Wally helped himself some, although he didn’t seem to have his eyes open. When they lay him down next to Judd, he cuddled right up to him. Ruby’s mother snorted.

“Well, wouldja look at that?” she said. “Snug as two bugs in a rug. You bring those cuffs, Ruby?”

Ruby pulled Judd’s handcuffs from her apron pocket. She never could understand why he hadn’t demanded them back, but her mother maintained it was because he was too embarrassed to, seeing as his joke on her hadn’t panned out the way he’d intended.

“Just leave them on the bed table, there. Go on down and make sure that Little Drunk ain’t asleep, and I’ll be right along.”

“What are you going to do, Ma?”

“Never you mind, Ruby. I’ll be right down.”

And she was too, in short order, with her arms full of Judd and Wally’s clothes.

“What?” she said, at Ruby’s look. “You don’t think they deserve it?”

Ruby laughed. Yes, she thought. They sure do deserve it.

When they got outside, Ruby was confused.

“Where’s the truck?” she demanded of her mother.

“I had Junior Briggs from up the line drop me off and bring his boy with him. The boy took your truck up and left it at the phone booth for us.”

“Why, for God’s sake?!”

“Why, we’ll just drive Judd’s cruiser on up and leave it for him in the morning, why not?” said her mother, opening the back door of the car, and tossing in the clothes before settling in. The L’il Drunk laughed and climbed in the passenger side.

Ruby got in and started the engine, telling her mother that she thought they were pushing it a little hard, what with the car business. Then she got picturing Judd Gulley, hungover and barefoot, walking up a gravel road wearing nothing but a pissy sheet and handcuffed to Wally McDonald, and she started to laugh.

“I wish I could see it, Ma, I really do.”

“Who says you won’t? Ain’t you helping the Ladies’ Auxiliary tomorrow?”

“Helping them with what?” asked Ruby.

“Tomorrow’s the last Saturday in October. That’s the day the Ladies’ Auxiliary gets together to pick the trash out the ditches all along the dump road. I think maybe I’ll help this year, myself.”

“Pickles,” said Wilson, and Ruby laughed harder.

“Pickles, it is, Wilson.”

This entry was posted on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 12:49 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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