It all started my senior year in high school, when my friend Loopy got his girlfriend knocked up.
The pinch came when they were deciding what to do about it. Loopy already had his future mapped out and he loved Shiela more than anything else on God’s green earth, and he felt more than a little foolish for havin’ jumped the gun on things.
…and he was also a little nervous.
There was one major fly in the ointment. The Roman.
The Roman was a local rancher. He was Shiela’s father. And he was one major league tough sonofabitch. He was one of those guys you’d get John Wayne to play in the movies, and he was the kind of guy they had to invent John Wayne to portray in the first place. He was legendary among my generation. We all knew quite well that he’d shot fifty or sixty wetbacks who’d tried to rob his ranch house over the years, and that even in his fifties, he could still bench press an enraged Brahma bull, and that he didn’t even bother treating rattlesnake bites any more, since he’d had so many he was immune by now, and that he’d once brought down a dope smuggling plane that dared to overfly his property by SHEER FORCE OF WILL.
You did NOT fuck around with the Roman.
And Loopy had gone and knocked up his only daughter. You can’t blame Loopy for being a little concerned.
What to do? He could just ASK the Roman for his daughter’s hand in marriage… but that would be putting off the inevitable. Either the Roman would ask “what’s the rush,” or he’d simply put two and two together when his grandchild was born, seven months after the wedding. Loopy didn’t THINK the Roman would simply murder his son-in-law, right there on the spot… but… well… this was the Roman we were talking about. The man had been known to use tarantulas for target practice when he was bored. His house had more guns in it than some South American countries do, and when one has found that some no-account roughneck has gone and impregnated one’s baby darling child, well, sometimes one acts without THINKING, and what was the likelihood that there would NOT be a loaded firearm within reach… in the Roman’s house?
Plainly, a weighty matter.
And this was how I became involved. One day during lunch, Loopy approached me and asked me to be his second in an affair of honor.
I said, “Huh?”
And Loopy filled me in on the Shiela situation… and what he intended to do about it. He was going to go out to the Roman’s house, this very evening, and have a man-to-man talk with the Roman about what had happened, and what he, Loopy, intended to do about it.
“Nice knowin’ you, man,” I replied.
"No, no, you don’t get it, " he said. “I want you to come with me.”
“And dive in front of the Roman when he tries to kill you?” I asked. “I don’t think I like that plan, Loop.”
“It ain’t like that,” said Loopy. “I mean, I’m gonna take the rap for whatever happens here. It’s my fault, and I know that, and I mean to tell the Roman about it, to his face. He’ll respect that. He won’t LIKE it, but he’ll respect it.”
“Will he respect it enough that he doesn’t, like, rip your head off and shove it up your dying asshole, right there on the spot?” I inquired.
“I think he will,” said Loopy. “I mean, Shiela loves me, and I love her, and the Roman knows it. We’ve been goin’ together since we were sophomores. Hell, he probably suspects somethin’s up as it is – he’s no dummy.”
“So where do I fit in?” I asked.
“You’re there in case he loses his temper.”
“Ah,” I replied. “So you DO want me to dive in front of him when he tries to kill you.”
“Uh,” said Loopy, “not quite. Y’see, I also asked Weeble to come along.”
“Well, it’s flattering to think that YOU think that Weeble and I, together, could take the Roman right after you tell him you’ve been porking his daughter,” I said uncertainly. The Roman, all exaggeration aside, stood some six feet four or five and probably weighed as much as Weeble and I put together. Maybe he couldn’t quite bench press a bull, but I had no doubts he could quite likely kick the shit out of Weeble and I without working up much of a sweat, particularly if he was in a bad mood.
“No, no, NO!” said Loopy, exasperatedly. “There isn’t gonna BE no fight! That’s what YOU’RE all about!”
“Huh?”
“Goddammit, the Roman KNOWS you! You’re in the PAPER!”
“I repeat: huh? I write for the newspaper, sure. This will keep the Roman from killing all three of us without stopping to take his smoke out of his mouth?”
“It’ll make him stop and THINK, dammit!” said Loopy. He spoke with a hint of desperation in his voice… and I really began to realize at that point that Loopy really was scared about this. “The Roman’s no fool. He might well beat the shit out of me, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna kill anybody in front of witnesses, especially one who works for the local paper!”
I thought about it. He did have a point. On the other hand, the Roman owned a great deal of land, much of which was difficult to access, and any portion of which would have been dandy for a selection of unmarked graves, and I said so.
Loopy sighed. “I… shit, man, I … I don’t know what to say. I know he won’t get THAT crazy. I mean, he KNOWS me. He knows YOU. And I’m countin’ on that. Hell, I don’t think he’ll actually do anything any crazier than deckin’ me, even if I go by myself. I’m just askin’ you to come along as insurance. But if you won’t come, I can’t make you. But I’m beggin’ you to come, if it’ll make any difference.”
I had to stop and think at that point. Loopy was a proud guy, and the fact that he was begging made quite a difference. I could plainly see that he was scared, too. And we’d been friends for quite a while.
On the other hand, I’d never seen the Roman angry, and I didn’t particularly want to.
On the other hand… well… Loopy was right. Maybe my presence would keep the Roman from doing anything we’d all regret later. And how likely, really, was he to want to do anything to ME? I’d never even touched his daughter.
“All right, Loop,” I said. “I’m in. But you’re gonna owe me for this one.”
That night, we drove out to the Roman’s place, all four of us, jammed into the cab of Loopy’s pickup… Loopy, Me, Shiela, and Weeble (so named because he wobbled, but never fell down).
The more I thought about this situation, though, the more I hoped Loopy’s faith in the Roman’s good sense and patience wasn’t misplaced. Weeble and Loopy were the best of friends, and Weeble would gladly walk into Hell with Loopy if Loopy asked him to… but Weeble stood six foot two and weighed maybe a hundred and twenty pounds, and even when he flexed his biceps, you had to hunt for the bulge. Furthermore, his habitual posture made him look like something you’d squeezed out of a tube onto a toothbrush. I liked Weeble just fine… but he wouldn’t have been my first choice of backup if I’d thought I was going to get shot.
Shiela had no worries at all. She was quite certain her daddy would understand everything. Her only concern was the fact that they were… well… they WERE kinda “springin’ it on him.” She was quite certain that he would not so much as raise a hand to Loopy, though.
Loopy was very quiet during the entire drive. We finally reached the main gate of the Roman’s spread, and turned onto the dirt road leading up to the main house, and pulled up in front. Loopy stopped the truck, and killed the engine.
“I’m gonna do this alone,” he said.
Weeble and I both looked at each other, then at Loopy. “What?”
“I said, I’m gonna do this alone,” Loopy repeated.
We all looked at Loopy for a minute. “Are you sure?” Weeble asked.
“Yeah,” said Loopy. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this all the way out here. The more I think about it… the more it sounds… wrong, somehow. I mean, how would YOU feel if some guy came out to ask YOU if he could marry your daughter…but he brought a couple of guys with him, just in case you decided to kick his ass?”
“That would depend entirely on my reasoning,” I said. “Is there some reason I’d want to kick his ass? If he knocked up my daughter, I might well think he was wise to bring some backup.”
Shiela gave me a dirty look.
Weeble nodded sagely.
“Well,” said Loopy, “he may just kick my ass to the dogs and back, but he’s not gonna shoot me. He’s not going to do anything crazy with Shiela in the room.”
“How much of your ass are you willing to bet on that?” asked Weeble. Me, though, I suspected Loopy was right. It had never occurred to me that Shiela would be standing right there when Loopy made his pitch, and no sane father is going to try to murder anyone with his li’l girl standing right there. I began to realize I’d been dragged all the way out to the Roman’s place for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. Moral support, if nothing else.
“I’m gonna go in alone,” he said. “Me and Shiela. I’d appreciate it, though, if you guys would stick around, maybe on the porch. Just in case.”
Weeble and I nodded solemnly. Anything for a buddy.
And so Shiela and Loopy entered the dragon’s den, and Weeble and I sat down on the Roman’s expansive front porch to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I should have known that a discussion like this wasn’t going to get cleared up anytime soon. Duh. I hadn’t brought a book, or anything, and even if I had, the gathering darkness would have made it impossible to read the thing. Weeble and I talked a little, but keeping our voices down; after all, if Loopy wanted the Roman to think he’d come alone, making noise would be counterproductive. That, and it might get us shot as trespassers or something.
The time dragged. I hadn’t even brought a watch, so the only way I had any clue what time it was was by the darkening of the sky to black, and shortly the moonrise. It had to have been at LEAST an hour, and we hadn’t heard any screaming or gunfire yet. This had to be a good sign.
I found an old wicker chair, and sat down. In time, I leaned the chair back against the front of the house, and closed my eyes and drifted, a bit. Weeble, on the other hand, was soon the object of some interest on the part of one of the Roman’s hound dogs, who had come up on the porch to investigate the strangers, and maybe get scratched behind the ears. Weeble was agreeable, and before long, he began amusing himself by pitching a stick into the yard, which would send the hound galumphing after it, jowls flapping in the wind.
This went on for what seemed like another hour.
The hound, though, did not get tired of the game. Just the opposite. When Weeble tried to ignore the stick after having it brought to him, the dog began to prance around, and wuffle and chuff and finally, to bark. Finally, Weeble grabbed the stick and threw it, just to shut the dog up. The dog joyfully launched himself back out into the yard, fetched the stick, and ran back to Weeble… who tried ignoring the dog… who pranced, and whuffled, and BARKED… whereupon Weeble would throw the stick again.
…until Weeble finally refused to throw the damn stick any more.
Whereupon the dog pranced, and whuffled, and barked some more.
Weeble ignored him some more.
The dog began to howl.
Weeble crossed his arms and ignored the dog some more.
The dog put his paw on Weeble’s knee and hooowwwwwled for more playtime.
INTERMISSION: INSIDE THE HOUSE
Loopy tossed back the bourbon. He wasn’t used to it, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the Roman. Things were going far, far better than he could possibly have hoped, and he wasn’t about to screw THAT up.
“…And I know this can’t have been easy for you to do,” continued the Roman. “I want you to know that I respect you for it. You’re sure this is what you want to do?”
Loopy and Shiela looked at each other. Shiela beamed. Turning back to the Roman, they both nodded.
“Well, I can’t say this is exactly how I would have had it happen,” said the Roman, “but you have chosen the honorable way of doing things, and no mistake. So long as you hang in there for my baby girl, I won’t stand in your way. Is there anything else I can do? If you’re looking for a job, I could use a solid ranch hand, but I’ll understand if you don’t quite wanna go to work for your father-in-law. I was the same way when I was your age.”
“I thank you, sir,” said Loopy, “but money’s not a problem. I have a fine fat bank account, and a great job out on the rigs. I’ve been saving up for this; I just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon. Still, it’s going to be quite a while before we’re hurtin’ for money. Not that we’d turn down baby clothes.” He grinned. This really was just going too well, despite the bourbon burning in his stomach. Next to him, Shiela was absolutely radiant.
The Roman slapped his knee and laughed. “You’re likely to get some,” he chuckled. “It’ll give your new mother-in-law an excuse to go shopping!”
…and the conversation continued, alive with joy and new possibilities… until, out at the front of the house, the dog began to bark… and finally, to howl.
Abruptly, the Roman shifted from pleased grandpappy to Rancher Mode. “Someone’s out front,” he growled, standing up. The gun rack was within arm’s reach of his easy chair, and the Remington was in his hand before he was completely out of his seat. The Roman was not as harsh a man as his reputation might suggest… but his spread wasn’t far from the Mexican border, and between the occasional dope smuggler and desperate illegal immigrant, he had learned to keep his ears open after dark… and his guns loaded and at hand.
“Oh, Daddy, that’s just Weeble and Wang-Ka,” laughed Shiela.
“Who?”
“Um,” said Loopy, uncomfortably. “They’re friends of mine. They’re waiting out on the porch.”
The Roman looked puzzled. “You brought friends? Why’n’t you invite them in?”
Loopy opened his mouth to reply… and stopped. Shiela’s face took on an “oh, dear,” kind of look.
The Roman, as mentioned earlier, was not a stupid man. “Felt the need for a little backup, did you?”
“Um,” said Loopy. “Well… y’know, I came out here not really knowin’ how you were, um, gonna, um, respond to all this. I mean, you know, it’s all kind of sudden, you know?”
The Roman looked bumfuzzled for a moment… and then grinned. “Thought I might decide to march my new son-in-law to the preacher at gunpoint, did you?”
“NO, Daddy,” sighed Shiela, rolling her eyes, “but you DO have a reputation in town, you know. You OUGHT to know. Spent your whole life BUILDING it.”
Loopy looked sheepish, and said nothing.
“Well!” said the Roman. “So you brought backup… and then decided to come in and face me alone, at the last minute. Not sure whether to think you’re clever or crazy. Damn, son, did you really think I was going to shoot you?”
“Well, naw,” said Loopy, “but, well, you know, I wood’na been surprised if you’d have maybe lost your temper… and, well… y’know, Wang’s a good-sized fellow, and I figured if I brought a couple of witnesses along, you might not get TOO crazy in front of them.”
Outside, the dog barked, and barked, and hoooowled.
“Might not get too crazy in front of witnesses, you say?” said the Roman, as his grin grew wider…
On the porch I sat, leaning back in the old wooden chair, my cap drawn down over my eyes. “Dammit, Weeble, can you shut that damn dog up? The last thing I wanna do is louse things up for Loopy right now.”
“Tired of playin’ fetch with this damn dawg,” said Weeble. “How about you play fetch with him for a while?”
…and the front door of the Roman’s house exploded open with a KA-WHAM!
Framed in the burning light of the doorway was the Roman, all fourteen feet of him, wielding a mighty Remington pump-action shotgun that was about the size of an atomic cannon…