Free How the Hula Girl Sings by Joe Meno Page B

pieces of his brain and head and face left stuck in that wall, his sweet wife had them bury a piece of the wall. Saddest thing you ever seen. Burying a yellow-wallpapered part of the wall like that.”
    I gave a low whistle and shook my head.
    “Nearly got killed for the same thing myself. Used to see a lady every Thursday for a drink and some pool and a nice romantic interlude at her house while her husband was at work, and one day he came home and found the bed was unmade and nearly chopped off her damn head with a butcher’s knife. Wouldn’t have blamed him if he came after me. Don’t think there are things worse than cheating on your wife. Not even murder. Hell, if you murder a man, he’s dead. Don’t feel any more pain. Break someone’s heart, well, that kind of heartache goes a long way. Might as well just shoot ’em dead so they can’t feel any more pain. Nothing I can stand worse than a dishonest man.”
    “Amen to that,” I said.
    The cowboy patted me on the shoulder, then gave a big, greasy-toothed smile. “I like you all right, boy. Look a little wanton, but I can tell you got a good heart. Stay the hell out of unmade beds.”
    I rang him up for ten gallons of diesel fuel, a bag of corn chips, and three magazines.
    The next day, I met with my parole officer, a man named Billy Blakes, from Colterville, who drove on down and had me sign some papers. He was his own little picture of defeat. He was a short, balding man with brown hair and thick glasses, but a thick man, a man who might bust your nose with one stiff blow if properly pissed off. He talked quiet as hell. He gave me a little interview, asked me if I had been involved in anything illegal since my release, asked me how I was adjusting, if I needed anything. He didn’t seem to have much hope for me, and I sure as hell wasn’t a hardened criminal. He had probably seen a thousand cons like me get released, then fall off the straight-and-narrow and end up back in the pen. You couldn’t blame ol’ Billy. He was working against a thing as undeniable as human nature.
    “Please, Luce, if you run into any problems, give me a call. How’s the job working out?”
    “Fine, Billy, fine,” I said.
    “OK. And the living situation?”
    “Just fine.”
    “You’re staying away from the booze?”
    “Best as I can,” I told him.
    “That’s all we ask.” Billy smiled. “That’s all we ask.”
    “Billy, can I ask you something myself?” I said.
    “Sure, I guess.”
    “How come you talk to me like you’re wasting your breath?”
    Billy rubbed the white bald spot on the top of his head and frowned. Some light made a halo right above that crown. “I generally am wasting it, I guess. There’s not much hope for people to change the way they are.”
    “Sounds mighty uplifting.”
    “I’m not here to inspire, Lemay, I’m here to keep you outta jail. Go to a goddamn priest if you wanna be lied to. I’ve seen too many of your kind slip back inside to fool myself. If you wanna think you’re a new man, hell, that’s fine. But don’t think you’re looking any different in anyone else’s mind.”
    I put out my cigarette and shook my head. “Any of your cons ever take a swing at you?”
    Billy Blakes made a real smile this time and leaned in close. “Just once, Luce. Just once. Had him back inside so quick his goddamn head spun right off. Think he’s still making license plates down in Marion, if my memory serves me right. Why, you feel like taking a swing at me?”
    “If I thought I’d knock anything good loose.”
    Billy grinned and patted me on the back. “You got heart. I’ll give you that. Dumb as a stump and doomed as hell, but you’ve got heart.”
    After that, I had the rest of the afternoon off, so I walked into town and had a sandwich at the Starlite in hopes of catching a sight of Charlene, but she was nowhere around, then I walked around town some more, and somehow I ended up over at this pink house. Right there, I decided I