Sample text from"Blood on the Long Barracks Wall"

 

   The drive to downtown San Antonio It only took fifteen minutes. There was no traffic on a chilly Tuesday night as they headed up Broadway and then navigated the disorganized maze of downtown streets, which had been laid out over a century and a half earlier with no rational plan. Doc parked his company car, a new Oldsmobile Ninety-eight, on Commerce street and they descended the steps to the River Walk. It was all but deserted. They saw another couple, strolling arm-in-arm in the distance but, otherwise, the River Walk was theirs.

   It wasn’t December cold in northern terms but, for South Texas, it was cooler than normal—mid-40s—and their breathing puffed little steam clouds as they walked. The area was, indeed, beautiful in its tranquility. The towering bald cypress trees were cloaked in their holiday finery—twinkling lights in reds, blues, greens and white. Many of the restaurants were decorated and brightly lit as well, even though they had closed hours earlier. The water in the diversion of the San Antonio River reflected the glow, masking its usual dingy tone. They looked up, down, and all around. Smiling like first-time tourists, even though they had all seen it before. The city’s planning achieved its purpose.

   They found a concrete bench and sat down, huddling close together. Everyone except Sal lit cigarettes. He gave his usual admonition, “How in the hell do y’all smoke those nasty things?”

   Doc gave his usual reply, “You smoke too. Just not tobacco. Don’t be a hypocrite!”

“Yeah, but I get something out of it when I smoke. Wish I had a doobie right now. That would make the lights even better.”

   Lois, Sal’s long-suffering wife said, “Poor planning on your part, big boy.” And everyone laughed.

   “I never got to liking the damn cold. Doc, how did you make it through the winters when you were in Chicago?” Doc had been required to work at his company’s corporate office on two occasions, the most recent had lasted almost two years.

   “Never got used to it. I stayed cold from October until May every time I had to be up there. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”

   Liz said, “Well, let’s walk. That will warm you up.” She was a runner and in great shape, even though she was a light smoker. They finished their cigarettes and continued to stroll along the walkway, stopping once under one of the arches where the couples shared kisses.

   Then they walked on until they reached the Navarro St. bridge over the walkway. Above them, a woman was leaning against the bridge railing. She saw them before they spotted her. Just as Liz looked up and their eyes met, the woman called down to them. “Hey, can y’all spare a lady a cigarette? What y’all doin’ down here this time of the mornin’.” They all looked up and smiled at her.

   “What you doin’ out so late and by yourself on this chilly night?” Sal asked.

   Liz said, “Come on down here and I’ll give you a Salem if you want one.”

   “Hey! That my brand. Comin’!” And the woman hustled down the steps to the River Walk. It was obvious to all of them what she was doing in downtown. She was a light complected black woman with hair that had once been styled nicely but was now somewhat in disarray. Normally, she was probably attractive, but she looked half-drunk, or stoned, and it was evident she was at the end of a hard night. She wore a very short black leather skirt with knee-high, black, high-heeled boots and no stockings. Her blouse was red and almost transparent and over it she had a short, puffy black jacket. She wasn’t dressed for the weather. She carried an oversized black purse with a long strap, which was over her shoulder and draped around her neck—harder to steal that way.

   Lois, who knew about such things, said, “Come on over here and tell us about your night. Looks like it was a tough one.”

   The woman laughed and said, “Not tough! I can handle me some mens. Shit! Three dates ain’t nothin’. Left um all panting and wanting more. A girl’s gotta make a livin’, you know.”

   Liz just rolled her eyes and handed her pack of Salems to the woman and said, “You can keep the pack.”

   “Thank you, ma’am! You gotta light? Lost mine someplace.”

   Liz handed over her Bic and said, “You can keep that too. Smokes aren’t much good without a light.”

   The woman lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Oh, that’s good! Last date only smoked cigars. I hate them things!”

   Doc had been watching all this and finally said, “Aren’t you worried? I mean, being out here all by yourself this late?”

   “Oh, hell no! I be alright. My main man s’posed to pick me up at two by the Alamo monument. I gotta kill a little time ‘till then.” Then she looked Doc and Sal up and down and said, “If you girls want a little relief, I got time to go up under this bridge and take care of these fellas for you,” She said it with a broad smile.

   Liz looked disgusted, Lois laughed, Doc just looked away and Sal said, “That’s mighty kind of you but I think we are OK for now.”

   “Alright but you got no idea what you’re missin’.” And she laughed until she started coughing and sputtering and continued, “I need to stop smoking these things. Gives me the croup—mostly in this cold weather.”

   Sal asked, “You sure you gonna be OK, now? We could walk with you over to the Alamo until your guy picks you up.”

   She reached into her big purse and pulled out a folded straight razor with a sequined black handle, flipped the blade open and said, “Anybody come after me and my money gonna get cut real good. You don’t worry none about me.” And she turned toward the steps up to street level and then looked back and said, “Y’all been mighty nice. I ‘preciate it. Y’all be careful now.” She walked up, looked around, figuring out which route would take her to Alamo Plaza and walked away.

   When she was out of earshot Liz shook her head and said, “Do you believe that? Oh my God! I knew there was trash like that around here but that’s the first time I ever spoke to anyone like that. Just awful!”

   Sal and Doc looked at each other, knowingly. Sal said, “Now Liz, you might not want to be so judgmental. Like the girl said, folks gotta make a living. You might be surprised what some of your highfalutin lady friends have done for rent and groceries.”

Liz just shook her head. Doc smiled. Lois giggled as she was prone to do. She was happy that Doc’s girlfriend didn’t know too much about her past.

 

***

 

When they arrived back at Doc’s place, they shared a joint and the couples adjourned into the bedrooms and enjoyed the rest of their evening. All of them had taken the week off. No real business going on for Doc during the holiday period and he was able to arrange his own schedule since he really answered to nobody. Liz’s big season ended with Christmas Eve, and she would concentrate on spring fashions after New Year's. Both Sal and Lois were between gigs. Their lease was up back in Pasadena, and they had rented a new place in nearby Dear Park and would be moving in on the upcoming weekend. Sal had a new contract beginning the second week in January and Lois would look for work in the new neighborhood. She had worked in a string of grocery and discount stores over the years and those places always needed employees, so she wasn’t worried.

Everyone slept late. Doc was the first up and he descended the stairs to his kitchen after 10:00am. The condo had two bedrooms and two baths upstairs. Downstairs was the living room with comfortable furniture and a cold fireplace. The kitchen had a round table with four chairs, a bar, and two stools. There was also another half-bath down. Doc used the separate, small dining room mostly as a home office—he had little use for ‘formal’ dining. After loading the Mr. Coffee, he sat at the bar waiting for it to do its thing, aiming his thousand-yard stare out the patio doors onto the common area. Before coffee, his mind was usually absent of real thought. The aroma of coffee drifted up the stairs and by half-past, everyone was up but without much conversation. Coffee cups were filled and glazed eyes slowly came to life.

“Let’s don’t cook or go out for breakfast. I’ll run to Taco Cabana and pick up some breakfast tacos. Honey, where’s your keys?” Lois had forever been the procurer of breakfast, dating back to biker days in Sanctuary. It was almost expected that she would offer. Sal tossed her the car key and she was gone.

Doc thought, Sal got the best end of the deal with Lois. She’s a peach. Not only puts up with his bullshit but always tries to please. Always happy. Great gal! Doc knew better than most what a ‘peach’ she was. They had shared a night, years ago, before she became Sal’s girl. That opportunity had always remained open, but Doc would have never stepped over that line. Sal wouldn’t have minded because he and Lois enjoyed an ‘open marriage’—but Doc would have.

Lois was back in twenty minutes with a sack full of bacon and egg, chorizo and egg, and barbacoa tacos, along with a big Styrofoam container of refried beans and a pile of little plastic tubs of pico de gallo and salsa. They all sat at the round table and grazed their way through a great Mexican breakfast, washed down with strong, sweet coffee.

“What do y’all want to do today?” Doc asked when breakfast was almost done.

“Hell, what’s wrong with just kicking back? Maybe getting a buzz on,” said Sal. Kicking back and copping a buzz was always something Sal could get behind.

“Looks like the sun’s gonna shine. How about going to the Sunken Gardens. It’s probably going to be in the 60s later,” Doc offered.

“The first thing I need is a shower,” said Liz, expecting Lois to clear up the breakfast mess. She sprinted up the stairs leaving Doc, Sal and Lois in the kitchen. Within two minutes, they heard the shower running.

“Doc, you ain’t gonna get serious about that woman, are you?” Sal wanted to know.

“Brother, you know I’m not going to get ‘serious’ about anybody. That’s just not me. Not anymore. Or, for a long time now. She’s OK. Looks great and she keeps me smiling. I think she wants more but it’s not gonna happen. I think our string is pretty well played out. She will make that call soon enough.”

“Good to hear. I mean, it would be great if you could find somebody long-term, but I don’t see that happening. She just ain’t your type, anyway. Not quite trashy enough.” They both laughed at that. It was probably true.

“Let’s catch some news. Noon news is coming on in a few minutes on Channel 5.” The men moved into the living room and Doc turned on the TV while Lois cleaned the kitchen and washed dishes. Sal found his baggie and papers and rolled a joint and lit it. Doc cracked the patio door to let the smell find a way out of the place. Lois walked up behind Sal as he sat in the big recliner and took the joint from him. She had a nice toke, turned it around, putting the ember in her mouth and gave both men a great shotgun hit. They heard the blow dryer upstairs.

News came on and Doc turned his attention to the television. The first story was about a wreck on I-35. Two people wouldn’t be seeing 1993 and two more would spend New Year's Eve at Santa Rosa Hospital. Next, there was a report of a shooting and robbery at a Stop N Go on the south side. The third story was about a woman found dead at Alamo Plaza. An assistant police chief spoke briefly, describing the scene. Doc sat up straighter and Sal put the roach in an ashtray.

​

 Sample text from "The Road to LaGrange"

   
   They rose before daylight the next morning and drove to the Courthouse Square where they bought fresh kolaches—two each, poppy seed and prune—at the little bakery operated by two old Czech ladies. They crossed the US 77 bridge, and the van climbed the curving highway and turned right at the road leading to Monument Hill. It wasn’t yet daylight, and the park wasn’t open yet. They stepped across a low barrier and walked to the edge of the cliff, carrying bottles of Shiner and the bag of kolaches. They sat on a concrete bench, had their breakfast, and washed the Czech pastries down with beer in the morning mist.

   “You know, when I die, I think I want to have my ashes sprinkled off the cliff here. This is one of my favorite places in Texas,” said Doc, as he surveyed the bend in the river and town far below.

   Sal thought about it for only a beat before saying, “Well, I hope you leave them instructions to wait for a good south breeze before tossing you out. Anything else and you’d wind up back in their faces.” They both laughed.

   They finished their breakfast and Sal rolled a thin joint and fired it up, took a deep toke and handed it to Doc, who followed suit. Just then, they heard a car slide to a stop in the parking lot. Doc saw it from the corner of his eye. They heard the door slam a man’s voice scream in Spanish. They watched as a young woman in a loose-fitting blue dress ran past the monument to the Dawson Massacre and Black Bean Detail. She clambered over the retaining wall and ran to the edge of the cliff and disappeared. The car sped out of the lot, its tires blasting gravel, the man still yelling, “Puta!”

   “What the fuck!?” said Doc as the two men stood and rushed to the edge of the abyss. They looked over, the best they could without crossing the low rock wall. Then Doc climbed over and peered down.

   “I can’t see her. Can you?” asked Sal.

   “I think I see something down in the trees. Shit, I think she’s caught in the branches of one of the trees down there. What the hell should we do?”

   They turned to see a Park Ranger pulling into the lot by the park’s office. He headed down the path as fast as he could, without running. As he got closer to Doc and Sal, it was evident that he was not pleased. Still thirty feet away, he spoke loudly, “What are you old boys doing out here this early. You know, we ain’t opened up the park yet.”