I aint gone completely crazy.
The hell you aint.
I’m in love with her, Billy.
Billy slumped back in his chair. His arms hung uselessly by his side. Aw goddamn, he said. Goddamn.
I cant help what it sounds like.
My own damn fault. I never should of took you down there. Never in this world. It’s my fault. Hell, I dont even know what I’m complainin about.
He leaned and took his lighted cigarette from the tin ashtray where he’d put it and took a pull on it and blew the smoke across the table. He shook his head. Tell me this, he said.
All right.
What in the goddamn hell would you do with her if you did get her away from down there? Which you aint.
Marry her.
Billy paused with the cigarette half way to his mouth. He put it down again.
Well that’s it, he said. That’s it. I’m havin your ass committed.
I mean it, Billy.
Billy leaned back in the chair. After a while he threw up one hand. I cant believe my goddamn ears. I think I’m the one that’s gone crazy. I’m a son of a bitch if I dont. Have you lost your rabbit-assed mind? I’m an absolute son of a bitch, bud. I never in my goddamn life heard the equal of this.
I know. I cant help it.
The hell you cant.
Will you help me?
No and hell no. Do you know what they’re goin to do with you? They’re goin to hook your head up to one of them machines and throw a big switch and fry your brains to where you wont be a menace to yourself no more.
I mean it, Billy.
You think I dont mean it? I’m goin to help em hook up the wires.
I cant go down there. He knows who I am.
Look at me, son. You’re not makin no sense. What the hell kind of people do you think it is you’re talkin about? Do you really think you can go down there and dicker with some greaser pimp that buys and sells people outright like you was goin down to the courthouse lawn to trade knives?
I cant help it.
Will you quit sayin that, goddamn it? What the hell do you mean you cant help it?
Just let it go. It’s all right.
It’s all right? Shit.
He slumped in the chair.
You want another beer?
No, I dont. I want a goddamn quart of whiskey.
I dont blame you for not wantin no part of it.
Well I’m glad as all hell to hear that.
He shook a cigarette out of the pack.
You got one lit, John Grady said.
Billy paid him no mind. You got no money, he said. So I dont know how in the hell you propose to go shoppin for whores.
I’ll get it.
Get it where?
I’ll get it.
How much were you plannin to offer him?
Two thousand dollars.
Two thousand dollars.
Yeah.
Well. If there was any doubt at all there sure aint now. You’ve gone completely crazy and that’s all there is to be said about it. Aint it?
I dont know.
Well I do. Where in the hell, where in the goddamn hell, do you think you’re goin to get two thousand dollars at?
I dont know. I’ll get it.
You dont make that in a year.
I know it.
You’re in a dangerous frame of mind, son. Did you know that?
Maybe.
I’ve seen it before. You know you been actin peculiar since you had that wreck? Have you thought about that? Look at me. I’m serious.
I aint crazy, Billy.
Well one of us is. Shit. I blame myself. That’s all. Blame myself.
It dont have nothin to do with you.
The hell it dont.
It’s all right. Just let it go.
Billy leaned back in his chair. He stared at the two cigarettes burning in the ashtray. After a while he pushed his hat back and passed his hand across his eyes and across his mouth and pulled the hat down again and looked across the room. Out at the bar the shuffleboard bells rang. He looked at John Grady.
How did you ever get in such a mess?
I dont know.
How did you let it get this far?
I dont know. I feel some way like I didnt have nothin to do with it. Like it’s just the way it is. Like it always was this way.
Billy shook his head sadly. More craziness, he said. It aint too late, you know.
Yes it is.
It’s never too late. You just need to make up your mind.
It’s done made up.
Well unmake it. Start again.
Two months ago I’d of agreed with you. Now I know better. There’s some things you dont decide. Decidin had nothin to do with it.
They sat for a long time. He looked at John Grady and he looked out across the room. The dusty dancefloor, the empty bandstand. The shapes of a covered drumset. He pushed back his chair and stood and set the chair back carefully at its place at the table and then he turned and walked out across the room and through the bar and out the door.
* * *
LATE THAT NIGHT lying in his bunk in the dark he heard the kitchen door close and heard the screendoor close after it. He lay there. Then he sat and swung his feet to the floor and got his boots and his jeans and pulled them on and put on his hat and walked out. The moon was almost full and it was cold and late and no smoke rose from the kitchen chimney. Mr Johnson was sitting on the back stoop in his duckingcoat smoking a cigarette. He looked up at John Grady and nodded. John Grady sat on the stoop beside him. What are you doin out here without your hat? he said.