“There’s been kind of a
hitch there,” Zoot admitted, “seems they were travelling down, saw a welcoming
light, stopped to rest for the night and then there was dancing and so on...”
“Yes, and….”
“Well, I hear they
decided they liked each other more than they liked the paying guests, if you
get my drift, so they’ve set up some sort of a commune. I’ve got a girl from Kalamazoo.”
“Is she good?”
"Well, I don't
mean to boast but I know she's the toast of Kalamazoo"
"Alright, she'll
do."
"You'll have to
wait, there's three other guys before you."
"Forget it, I've
gone off the idea.” Max snapped. “Do I take it you are a little, how shall I
put it, light on stock at the moment?"
"Damn right,” Zoot
sighed, “if things don't pick up soon I'm going to have to start wearing
lipstick and calling myself Priscilla......again. I recall another friend of mine,
Titus..."
"Titus?"
"Yeah, as in tight
as a duck's…."
"Oh, I see,” Max
groaned, “go on."
"Thanks, I was
going to anyway. Well, Titus, he started
a brothel with no girls at all, just him, in the pitch dark, doing wonders with
a sink plunger. Man, he was
something. He would have done fine if
this plumber hadn't visited him one night.
Last I heard there was a team of doctors working on him and they said
even if they got the plunger back there ain’t no way they could ever use it
again."
"You have some
strange friends."
"You think
so?” Zoot said with surprise, “you
should see my enemies. So friend, what
brings your parts to these parts?"
"Frustration,
Zoot. Can I call you Zoot?"
"Sure, here's my
number, give me a call" Zoot handed Max a card.
"It's all dots and
dashes!"
"What else, it's
Morse Code, there ain't no telephones yet, wire me!"
"That's what I
keep asking, why me?” Max muttered
despondently. “Why should I fall in love
with a girl who is promised to another?"
"Beats me!” Zoot shook his head, “Now a girl who promises
you another, that's somethin' else. Tell
you what, boy, if you buy me a drink I'll tell you all about my fascinating
life. Make it two and there might even
be some truth in it."
Zoot steered Max over
to a beer soaked table in the corner of the bar. A waiter shuffled over to them.
“I’ll have a shot of
bourbon, what are you having, son?”
“I’ll have two fingers
of red-eye.” Max said, with a view to
impressing the cowboys.
“I really don’t think
you should have...” Zoot started to say.
The waiter giggled
manically and poked both of Max’s eyes.
“....ordered that.”
Zoot continued, “guess I should have warned you, he’s the house maniac. You know how every bar has this mad, violent,
guy that everyone avoids?”
“Yeah.” Max choked.
“Well, Nancy figured if
you’ve got to have a fruitcake you might as well get some use out of him, so
she employed hers.”
Zoot looked with
concern at his drinking companion who was still wiping his eyes and trying to
focus.
"Are you okay,
boy?"
"I'll live."
"Now don't go
making promises you can't keep. Not
round here anyway.” He turned to the
waiter, “bring a bottle of Rye and two glasses and cut the smart stuff, o.k.?”
The waiter flounced
away.
“You're not from these
parts are you?" Zoot attempted to
restart the conversation.
"Just down the
valley a piece, I'm over Wilbur's Rise."
"I wish my Dora
was,” Zoot said sadly, “that's what ruined our marriage and started me on this
life of sin and debauchery.....” he
brightened, “guess I should thank him really."
"You were
married?"
"Sure, I ain't
been a pimp, sorry 'leisure negotiator', all my life. Hell, I used to raise chickens."
"Down on the
farm?"
"Nah, up to the
second storey of MacDonald's Provisions store.
I used to work the hoist. It was
an up and coming job. ‘Cept what I didn’t
know was that while I was doing the upping, Dora was......doing something else
entirely with Wilbur Macdonald.” Zoot
lit a cheap cigar and puffed on it reflectively. “He was the eldest son of the family and
stood to make a packet from his Pa’s seed corn fortune one day.”
“That’s too bad. About Dora, I mean.” Max commented as he wiped away the tears
caused by the combined effects of violence and cheap cigar smoke, from his
eyes.
“Damn right, but you
couldn’t blame her really, the money turned her head.” Zoot explained, “Wilbur stood there with his
wallet bulging in his pants and she damned near ricked her neck. When they said they'd made provision for him
in their will, they weren't kidding. Old
Macdonald had a firm that was worth a pretty penny.”
“Did you know what was
going on?”
“No sir! When the Macdonald’s died, tragically, ‘cos
of an unfortunate accident with the hoist, I thought me and Dora could buy the
store up cheap and clean up.”
“Neat plan.” Max agreed, without conviction.
“Yeah, that’s what I
thought. Shame of it was, Wilbur wasn’t
with his Ma & Pa when the hoist fell.
Seems he was with Dora. Suddenly
I find myself there in charge of a Provisions store with no wife, no hoist and
a Sheriff holding a frayed piece of rope and a suspicious expression."
"Did they try
you?"
"Nah, they seemed
pretty certain so they went straight ahead and hung me. Like they said, even if it wasn't me this
time, it would be sooner or later, so it would save effort in the long
run."
"Maybe I'm missing
something but, you're still alive aren't you?"
"Sure takes a good
'un to get past you don't it.” Zoot chuckled,
“well, you see, the fact of the matter was that the local hangman also happened
to be the guy who fixed the hoist at Macdonalds.”
Max took a wild guess
“So, the rope broke?”
“You got it! I sets off running and don't stop till I gets
to Beanstown."
"The Windy
City."
"Yeah, it seemed
kinda appropriate.” You can find Jambalaya in its full silliness at Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com amongst other places.
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