The Eighty-eighth Key Ch. 31

She dashed out of the confusion and followed him, keeping to the shadows as he made his way to the Morning Call. He was early and the place was crowded with late-night revelers and that seemed to put him off, and she watched as he got his order 'to-go' before he walked across the street to the square, pushing aside a few seagulls and sitting on a vacant bench.

And she walked right up and sat beside him.

"That was quite a show," she said as she smiled at the surprise in his eyes.

"What was?"

"The way you walked out on that Hollywood bitch."

He grunted, then held up the paper-plate loaded with warm beignets.

She took one.

"Thanks," she said, not in the least surprised by his easy-going generosity.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked.

"Watching you."

"I see."

"I heard someone say that you just showed up and started playing. No pay."

"Yup."

"So, why'd you walk out on her...?"

Callahan seemed startled by the question. "What? Walk out on who?"

"On Miss Hollywood."

"Oh. I don't know. Just the whole 'look at me' thing. They way she pushed her way in."

"Okay. What are you running from?"

Callahan grimaced, then shrugged...but still he didn't answer the question.

"It's not fair if you get to choose which questions you'll answer."

"What makes you think I want to answer your questions."

She bunched up her fist and gently placed it on his chest. "Because there's a great big hole right there, and all I can see is pain inside."

Callahan put his coffee down on the bench and started to leave...

"Please don't go," the girl said.

Callahan took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, then he looked down and slowly shook his head. "What do you want?" he asked. "Money? If I give you some money will you go away?"

"I'm not after anything."

"What about money? Can I pay you to..."

"No, sorry. That won't work, either."

He sat up and looked across the square to the Morning Call, saw that the late night crowd had thinned out a bit. "Well, I'm gonna go get my table. If you're coming, come on." He got up and walked across the street to the café, found his usual table and sat.

"You must be hungry," she said as she sat beside him.

He spotted his waiter and held up two fingers, then turned to face her. "What's your name?"

"Deni."

"Let's see. The other night I had you pegged for a farmer's kid, mean daddy, and you ran away from home."

She grinned as she shook her head. "Nope, not even close."

"Okay. Tell me your story."

"I will, if you'll tell me yours."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty something. You?"

"Thirty something."

"Where are you from?"

"I've been trying to figure that one out," he said.

"Okay, where were you born?"

"San Francisco."

"No way! I've always wanted to go there..."

"City of Broken Dreams, kid. Not for the faint of heart."

"What's your name?"

Callahan took a deep breath, let it slip out slowly. "Harry."

"So, Harry the piano player. From San Francisco, no less."

"No less." His waiter arrived with two coffees and two plates of fresh beignets; he took one and his fingers reveled in the warmth.

"They sure are good when they're hot," Deni said, taking one and popping it into her mouth.

"What do you do around here, Deni?"

"I go to Tulane," she began, but she stopped when she saw the look of disappointment on his face. "What's the matter?"

"I don't handle liars very well."

She deflated as his words bit. "Sorry. Can I try again?"

"No lies this time."

"No lies."

He nodded, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm from Houston, and..."

"And how old are you? Really?"

"Eighteen."

"And you ran away from home?"

"My dad kicked me out."

"Why? Drugs?"

She shook her head. "My step-mother. We didn't get along."

"So he kicked you out for that? Come on, tell me the truth?"

"You know what? You sound just like a cop."

"That's because I'm a cop."

"What? For real?"

"For real."

"So, I asked you before...what are you running from? Did you kill someone?"

"No - not yet, anyway."

"You're gonna kill someone? Who? A friend?"

"I used to think so, once upon a time."

"What happened?"

But Callahan simply shook his head.

"Okay, why are you here, playing the piano night after night, and for free?"

"Why not?"

"That's not an answer."

"So, why are you here?"

"My best friend from school lives here. It was the only place I could think of to come to. I got accepted to Tulane, and I'm trying to find a way to get a scholarship or something."

"You're not a hooker...?"

"ME? GOD no!" she cried. "Jesus...do I look like a - a fucking prostitute?"

"I don't know what you look like." But no, he thought, that wasn't quite true. You remind me of my Looney Junes...the same legs, a little too much hair on the forearms, and almost the same eyes behind those thick glasses. But he could see now that she was genuinely upset. "So, tell me about Tulane," he continued. "I heard its a tough school to get into."

"It is."

"What about scholarships? Hard to get?"

She nodded, looked away."

"What do you want to study?"

"Pre-med. But I want to get into English literature, too."

"What, like Milton and all that jazz?"

"Yup."

"So, you wanna be a doc?"

"Yes. I think it's all I've ever wanted to be. Pediatrician."

"And your dad just dumped you?"

"Yup."

"What about your mother?"

And the girl turned away from the idea. "She's engaged to Prince Valium, not really part of life anymore, ya know?"

"You said you're staying with a friend? I don't get it...you're from Houston, but she's..."

"I went to a boarding school, in San Antonio. My Grandmother paid for it."

"But she can't pay for...?"

"She died. Two years ago."

"How long have you been staying with your friend?"

"Too long, I think. Her parents are getting a little wigged-out about it..."

Callahan nodded, and seeing the depth of her predicament he knew what he had to do now. He finished his coffee and stood, yet she just sat at the table, not knowing what to do. As he looked down at her he could sense her anxiety, but above all else he could plainly see her need.

"You're coming with me," he said, and he watched as she stood.

"Where?"

"Off the street, for now. You got any clothes or stuff?"

"Not really."

He nodded. "Okay."

They walked over to the Royal Orleans and he got her a room, and he made sure she had access to room service before he took her up to the room.

"I'll be by at nine o'clock sharp. Take a shower and be ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready to get to work." He turned to leave...

"You're not staying?"

"What?"

She looked at the bed. "You don't want anything?"

His growl startled her, and she stepped back from the horror in his eyes.

"Nine o'clock," he repeated. "Be ready."

_____________________________________________

He took her to breakfast at Brennan's, then on a long walk down Royal Street for new clothes. Back to the hotel, and he waited downstairs while she showered and put on clean clothes, then they took a taxi out to Tulane, to the admissions office. She stood there by his side in mute awe as he whipped out a checkbook and paid for her tuition, room and board - for four years - and secured rooming for her at the school for the rest of the summer by enrolling her in summer classes.

The sun was setting by the time they finished getting her set-up in the dormitory, and they rode back to the Royal Orleans in another taxi. He fed her and sent her up to her room, told her to be ready to go at nine the next morning and left.

He walked down to the Dungeon and slipped behind the piano. It was as if nothing had happened the night before, and the usual lonely hearts gathered around and listened as their stranger played the music of the dying and the damned.

The next morning he took Deni to a bank by the campus and set up accounts for her, then took her to lunch at the Court of the Two Sisters.

"I think you're good to go now, kid."

She just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

A waitress came by and dropped off menus, and Callahan ordered minted iced tea for two.

"Are you gonna talk to me?" Callahan asked as he tried to ignore her stare.

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"Okay."

"I love you. I know that much."

"You're confusing love with gratitude, Deni."

"I don't think so, Harry. I think you're afraid of love. Maybe even running from love. But what you just did for me was an expression of pure love. Love like I've never experienced before. And I really don't know what to say."

"How about 'Thanks?'"

"Okay. Thanks, Harry-whatever-your-name-is. Thanks for making my life complete. Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for letting me love you."

He nodded as he took out an envelope and handed it to her. "This is my contact information, Deni. If you need anything call the number in there. I'll drop by from time to time, see how you're doing. Let me know if you make it into medical school, and if you need help paying for it let me know."

"One question, Harry. Just one, okay?"

"Sure. Fire away."

"Why? Why me? Why are you doing this for me?"

"I'm paying off a debt, Deni. To a little girl I used to know, a girl just like you."

"You loved her, didn't you?"

"Very much. More than I thought possible."

She nodded, took his hand in her's and kissed it.

"Now, about your father. I'd like to pay him a visit."

She shook her head. "No, Harry. Not necessary. You're my father now."

The words startled Callahan, set him back in his chair. "I am not..."

"Well, you won't let me in like a girlfriend..."

"Because I'm old enough to be..."

"My father. Right, I get that, and I love you for the respect you've shown me. You just need to accept what I've given you."

"I'll have to think about it, Deni."

________________________________________________

He turned up next in Alpine, Texas.

He rented a small room in an old boarding house, one that had seen better days when cattle drives were still a big part of local life.

There was a saloon of sorts down on Main Street, but these days about the only things you could find behind the bar were Lone Star longnecks and a couple of decks of worn-out cards. An old gal named Millie held court behind the bar, and locals liked to say that Millie had been "rode hard and put away wet" more than once, but the truth was far simpler than that. Millie's one true love had blown through town one weekend something short of thirty years ago, and when this tumbleweed decided to keep on rolling her roots held fast. She had turned into something inert after that, like a gas in the bottom of a beaker, and she had been changing dollar bills for cold bottles of beer ever since.

Callahan walked into the bar in the middle of the afternoon and looked around. The old pine paneling the covered the walls had turned orange decades ago; now the wood look depleted, completely worn out. He saw an old upright piano against a far wall and walked over to it. Standing there, he reached for a memory and played it, found the tones the old girl made kind of pleasing, until he heard from Millie:

"Get the fuck away from my goddam piano!" the woman screamed. "And get the fuck outta here!"

Callahan turned to face the voice, then he walked up to the bar, put his hands out and caressed the old wood. "How old is this place," he asked as he looked at the old wood.

"Older than you, asshole."

He looked around, took in the posters for rodeos stapled to the wall by the door, flyers for bands that had played here years ago, but everything he saw was in the past. A dead space, he thought. Waiting for something, anything to happen.

"Do I need to call the sheriff on you? I told you to git!"

He turned and looked at the woman - instant ferocity clear in his eyes: "I'm looking for Don McCall. Know where I can find him?"

He watched the change come over her, a softening inside her glaring eyes.

"You know Donnie?"

"We flew together in 'Nam. He saved my life."

She nodded. "That's our Donnie. Sooner or later he saves everyone, but no-one is ever there for him."

He heard the bitterness in her voice and the grating sound bothered him. "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged. "That's just the way it is, mister."

"Harry Callahan," he said, holding out his hand.

She took it. "Millie. You really a friend, or you from the bank?"

"Friend. What's with the bank?"

"His dad. Took out a big loan when the drought hit. Drought didn't end, lost their herd. You do the math."

Callahan nodded. "Got any cold beer?"

"Do bears shit in the woods?"

"Better give me one."

"I ain't givin' you shit, Callahan..."

He pulled out his wallet and passed her a hundred. "Open up a tab for me, wouldya?"

"Sure thing," she said as she passed over a Lone Star longneck.

"And call Donnie for me, please. Tell him I'm here and that I'd like to buy him a beer."

"Okay." Millie disappeared into her office and Callahan turned around and leaned against the bar. He could just about imagine Judge Roy Bean walking in the door, calling out for Lillie Langtry or brandishing a hangman's noose...

Alpine, Texas, he thought as he walked over to one of the large windows that looked out on Main Street. Hot as hell out, and dry too, but at 4500 feet above sea level the nights were supposed to be cool. The town was surrounded by low, wind-sculpted mountains - more like hills, really - rising from a flat prairie that seemed, to Callahan, like a good place to raise rattlesnakes.

His thoughts drifted back to Hue City and those mad-flights out to C-Med to pick up the dead and the dying, and McCall sitting beside him in their Huey night after night. Quiet and even tempered, Callahan looked at this landscape and nodded.

This land looked like Don McCall - quiet, purpose built, solid and steady.

"He'll be here in about twenty minutes," Millie said. "And he said I should treat you right, so you go ahead and play that piano if you want."

"You serve dinner here?"

"Yessir, come about four-thirty or so. Tonight we're servin' t-bones and enchiladas, side salad if you want it."

Callahan looked at his watch. "Better get a couple ready. I'll be hungry as hell by then."

"Alrighty."

He moved over to the piano and sat, began a ragtime that sounded a little like The Yellow Rose of Texas, and Millie came over and sat behind Callahan, watched him play and felt the change that came over her old saloon.

"That was wonderful," she whispered when Harry finished. "Reminds me of the times we used to have here."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I think most of us forgot what it's like to live as a group of people, to look after one another, especially when times are tough. It feels like it's everyone is out for his or her self these days, like..."

She stopped when a battered Chevy pickup pulled into a space out front, and she smiled when she saw Don McCall bounding into the saloon...

And Callahan met McCall as he crashed into the saloon.

"Dear God in Heaven!" Don cried. "It is you! Well, Harry Callahan, as I live and breathe, what the hell are you doing out here?"

Callahan turned to Millie. "Waitin' for this lady to make me an honest-to-Pete West Texas t-bone steak, for one. She needs to get you one of these Lone Stars, too. Pretty good beer, I reckon, even if it is from Texas..."

McCall made to roll up his sleeves. "Them's is fightin' words, mister," he said, grinning. "No one, and I mean no one makes fun of the National Beer of Texas..."

Callahan sidled up to the bar, McCall in tow, while Millie popped the tops on two more Lone Stars; McCall downed his in one long pull so Callahan followed suit.

"Millie," Don barked, "keep 'em comin' 'til our toes are point'n at the ceilin'!"

"Better get those steaks going," Harry whispered. "Maybe some bread, too?"

"Well Harry, sit you down and tell me a story..."

They moved to a table in back by the kitchen, Callahan beginning to think that this might be the best beer he'd ever had - at about the same time enchiladas baking in the kitchen began to fill the air with a magic all their own.

"Damn, Donnie, it's good to see you. You're looking good, life must agree with you..."

"It sure is good to see you too, hooch-mate. It's a long way from Hue, ain't it?"

Harry shook his head. "Man, that feels like a million lifetimes ago, ya know?"

"Don't it? And every day over there felt like a lifetime."

"Because it was."

Millie brought out a basket of peanuts and plopped them down, with two more beers coming a moment later.

"So, what are you doing out here, Harry? Really...?"

"Just followin' the wind, Amigo. Keepin' my nose clean as best I can."

"Give up on the cop thing?"

"Leave of absence. Taking some time off." He slammed down half of the latest bottle and tried to stifle a burp, but it slid out through his nose and he grinned. "This stuff is really good."

"Yeah, it is," McCall said, his voice sliding down an octave.

"Millie mentioned problems with a bank?"

"Millie talks to much."

"Maybe she just cares."

"Maybe. So, yeah, bad drought out here the past few years, we lost the herd and dad decided to put up half the ranch as collateral so we could buy more cattle. Then the drought got worse."

"How much is he in for, Don?"

"More than we've got. Damn, those steaks smell good. You know, Millie's a damn fine cook."

"Anything I can do to help?"

McCall looked down and grinned. "Sure Harry. You got an extra sixty large lyin' around you could spare?"

"Sixty? Is that what you need? Anything else?"

"Harry, I got a list about as long as my arm. Things we got to repair or replace, including about ten miles of fence that needs some real work, and real soon, too."

"How hard is that?"

"What?"

"Working fences."

"Why? You volunteering?"

"Sure, why not...?"

"Yeah, right."

"Would two hundred get your head out from under the water?"

"Two hundred what, Harry?"

"Thousand."

"You got two hundred grand lyin' around you just want to give me? Is that what you're sayin' Callahan?"

"Just tell me what you need, Don. I want to get this done before Millie gets back out here."

"Are you fuckin' serious, Callahan?"

Harry took out his checkbook and took a pen out of his coat pocket. The pen hovered over a check. "What do you need, Don?"

McCall shook his head. "Man, you've always been fuckin' nuts, Callahan, but okay, let's see. Dad needs a hundred to wipe out the loan. We need about fifty to get deferred maintenance out of the way, another fifty, maybe seventy to get the fence line, and we could use another hundred to get an up to date house on the property."

"So, three, three-twenty gets you going, but what about cattle?"

"Call it another hundred."

Callahan started writing. "No, let's call it an even five hundred," he said as he filled in the numbers, then he signed the check and peeled it out of his checkbook. "You wanna deposit it now, or wait til morning?"

"Are you shittin' me, Callahan?"

"Nope."

"I'll be right back," McCall said as he took the check and ran for his pickup; a few seconds later the Chevy was fishtailing out Main Street, headed for the bank.

"That was pretty cool," Millie said from behind the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. "Is that why you came?"

"No, I just wanted to see an old friend."

"The world needs more friends like you, Callahan," she said as she disappeared back into her kitchen.

"Maybe so," he muttered, taking a peanut and breaking the shell on the table then eating the nuts. Millie brought out a salad and promptly disappeared again, so Callahan went back to the piano, began playing Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, only very slowly.