Chapter 15

The two men left the church and walked toward the truck. A cool wind had started blowing in from the north, dropping the temperatures some ten degrees from when they started their eating binge.

"I's cold, Squiggy," Mule said.

Squiggy looked at his friend, slowly crutching along toward the truck. Psycho had her head out the window, slobbering. "You should wear a coat."

"I guess so. You got an extra one?"

Mule was a good five inches taller and weighed at least fifty pounds more. Squiggy had his work coat in the truck, a tattered brown Carhart jacket. But that was for his use.

"I just got mine and it ain't gonna fit your big butt."

"I ain't worried bout my butt."

"We can go by your house and get one."

Mule nodded. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't figure out what it was. They got into the truck and Psycho started crying. Squiggy pulled some turkey out of his pocket and fed her by hand. Apparently the dog was a little was a little too enthusiastic and tried to include Squiggy's thumb in with the meal.

"Crapfire, Psycho!" Squiggy said. "Don't be eating my fingers!"

The dog was not concerned. She growled, worried about not getting any more food.

Squiggy looked down at his hand and saw some blood forming.

"Yer bleedin," Mule commented.

"I see that."

"Good thing you got that dog her shots, huh?"

Squiggy got bugeyed. "Uh, I ain't got around to that yet."

"Hope she ain't got the rabies."

Squiggy eyed his dog. Surely she didn't have rabies, he thought. But she did act a little strange at times and tended to slobber.

"Mommy says them shots hurt something bad," Mule added.

"What bit her?"

"Daddy."

"Yer father had the rabies?"

"We thought that was why he acted goofy."

"I figger it was cause he was a retard."

"That's what the doctor said. Mommy had to get some shots in her bellybutton."

Squiggy didn't want to hear about Mule's mother getting shots in her bellybutton. He couldn't figure out how the doctor could even find the bellybutton under all the rolls of fat. No doctor was going to shoot him in the bellybutton, by gosh.

"Did she ever start foaming at the mouth?" Squiggy asked. They were driving off from the church. He pulled an illegal u-turn and headed back toward the highway, narrowly avoiding two women trying to cross the street. "Boy, they move pretty good for bein old and all."

"Only when she eats," Mule said. It was close, whatever he had forgotten. Whatever he forgot had something to do with food. Oh well, it would come to him.

Langford was pretty well shut down for the day. Little traffic aside from cars and trucks going through town on the four-lane highway. The stoplight was red. Squiggy paused for a second before speeding through, almost causing two wrecks.

He heard the other cars honk at him, not that he was concerned. The prospect of his dog giving him the rabies and getting shots in his bellybutton were bothering him. He pulled the rest of the food out of his pocket and sat it on the seat. Psycho's little stubby tail started wagging and was pounding Mule.

"She hits pretty hard with her tail," Mule said. He reached out to pet her head, but withdrew his hand when Psycho growled at him. "I'll need to get my other pair of drawers."

"Your other pair?"

"Yeah, I left go my good pair at the church."

"You only have two pairs?"

"Yep. They don't give out drawers at the Army."

"The army?"

"Yeah, them Salavating Army people."

Squiggy nodded. This was a conversation that needed to be nipped in the bud. "Gimme a beer."

Mule handed Squiggy a beer and got one for himself. They were warm, but free, so he wasn't going to complain. "Kinda hurts not wearing no drawers. Think I'm getting a blister."

Squiggy tried to tune out his friend, not that it usually did any good. They arrived in front of Mule's house. It was cold enough all the neighborhood Mexicans had taken their parties in the houses. A bunch of beat up cars and trucks with strange paint jobs were parked in the road and the yards.

He looked at the porch and saw Mule's mother was still sitting on the porch. She had grabbed a blanket off the floor and wrapped it around her. Two kittens were sitting in her lap, apparently fighting.

Mule got out of the truck and started moving toward the house. His mother didn't look all that happy.

"Where's my dang food, you idiot?" she bellowed out.

"What food?" Mule asked. He had realized what they had forgot. Mule had to think fast, a skill he wasn't all that talented in using.

"You was supposed to bring me some food!"

She looked rather irritated. The two kittens were tossed off her lap. Mule stopped halfway up the sidewalk. He looked back at the truck for help, but Squiggy was looking the other way. Mule remembered something and hoped it worked.

He pulled out a turkey leg from his pocket. It was one he was saving for later. "I brought you this leg!"

Mule moved up the sidewalk and handed it to her. She examined the leg for several seconds. "What's that crap on it?"

Mule looked a little closer. "Just a little pocket lint."

She pulled a couple of the bigger pieces off the leg and took a bite. "Where's the tators and the pecan pie? You know I likes the pie!"

"I couldn't carry it with the crutches," Mule said.

"Liar! You didn't think bout your poor mommy sitting at home. You coulda had the worthless friend carry it!"

"He brought some food out for his dog."

"Tell him to come here."

Mule looked back toward the truck. Squiggy had his window down and was already shaking his head. "Squiggy, Mommy wants you!"

"He ain't coming!" she said. "What a peckerhead!"

"I ain't no peckerhead!" Squiggy fired back. "Go get your own food."

"This tain't right, Mule," she said, and worked up misty eyes for added effect. She was tearing into the leg with a passion. "Did you bring me any beer?"

"I figgered you had some in the fridge?" He moved up the sidewalk, hopped up the steps and opened the door to the refrigerator she kept on the front porch. "Mommy, you almost got a case."

"So?"

"Why do you need our beer if you got so much?"

"This won't last all day, dummy."

Mule let his feelings get hurt again. "Don't cry, Mommy! We'll bring you some beer back."

"Go by the Sonic and get me one of them footlong weenies. Haven't had one for a while."

Squiggy giggled, not the best move for him.

"What's so funny?" Mule's mother yelled.

"You ain't had a footlong weenie for a while," Squiggy said. This was a time when he should keep his mouth shut. Squiggy knew that, but sometimes what he should do and did weren't in unison.

Mule giggled. "Ain't funny, boy! I miss your daddy."

He left the porch and went inside. It was a mess, one that he was used to living in. Clothes and trash were scattered everywhere. The television screen was broken since his mother threw a beer bottle at it when she had not liked the last winner of American Idol. Mule went back to his bedroom, one that was not much bigger than a closet.

His mattress was on the floor, covered with a blanket. He used his crutch to knock some beer bottles out of the way. Mule found his other pair of underwear on the ground and examined them. They had several holes in them and only one skidmark so he put them on. Mule found his camo jacket and put that on, also.

When he came back through the house, Mule heard the snoring from the front porch and was relieved. As he got on the porch, Mule saw Squiggy was out of the truck throwing pebbles at his mother.

"Don't do that, Squiggy!" Mule said.

"How come?" Squiggy asked. "You afraid I'll bean her?"

Mule thought about that for a few seconds. "Naw, you might wake her up."

Squiggy dumped the pebbles on the ground and got back in the truck. "Hurry up then."

Mule got back out to the truck and climbed in. They took off and made it halfway down the block before Squiggy threw his beer bottle at a truck parked in the yard.

"Dang, I missed," he said. "Need to get that shoulder fixed."

Mule nodded. He was worrying about Mommy and missing his new woman.

"I ain't seen Red lately," he said.

"She's in the county jail," Squiggy answered.

"What for?"

"She got busted for selling sex."

"Red's a ho?"

"I reckon."

"Didn't figger many guys would want that."

"You did."

"I was drunk. Where we goin?"

Squiggy downed the final half of a beer and threw the bottle in the back of the truck. "Wanna show you something."

"Cool!"

They drove through downtown, past the deserted and crumbling buildings. Squiggy looked at the old movie theater, where he had his first kiss. He missed that place. Now, he went to the drive-in at Poteau to watch movies, but it just wasn't the same.

The old hardware store was now a pawn shop. You had to go out of town just to buy nails now, it was a shame. The place almost looked like a ghost town. Everybody, aside from the Mexicans, had moved out on the highway.

Squiggy tried not to think about it. That saddened him and that was not a emotion he wanted today, not since it was supposed to be a day of thanksgiving. His belly was hurting, although not to the extent Mule had been through earlier.

They got out on the highway and Squiggy floored it, weaving in and out of the few cars like he was a racecar driver. They met a police car but it was Chief Arnold, so Squiggy wasn't worried. The chief knew his truck and wouldn't stop him.

Squiggy turned out on the highway leading to the lake. They passed another church where a large crowd was gathered. Mule jerked his head in that direction.

"They's eating there, Squiggy!" he said.

"I can't eat no more," he said. "You still hungry?"

"Naw, but we might get Mommy some."

Squiggy thought about it for a few seconds. He didn't really want to do it, but the old woman did need to eat. He turned around in the middle of the road and drove back to the church and parked out front.

"Let me get something," Mule said.

"Naw, I'll do it," Squiggy said. "You take too long."

He jumped out of the truck and walked quickly to the church. This was one his mother used to take him to when he was a child. There was a large crowd inside, eating and talking. Squiggy walked inside the church and saw several people he knew. They smiled and welcomed him and it bothered him.

Squiggy passed by the offering plate, filled with money without a second thought. He filled a couple of plates of food and topped it off with two pieces of pie. She moved up beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Walter," she said.

Squiggy turned around to see her, although he knew who it was.

"It's good to see you."

He lowered his head and regretted the stop even more.

Chapter 16