Phantom Banjo by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough Page B

and those known to Hawthorne are no longer of any major
importance and it is an easy task to simply mute them in the minds
of those remaining performers. In a short space of time no one will
sing these weakened songs and they will be truly dead. This is, of
course, a major victory for us. To a lesser extent, the repertoires
of other prominent figures will be similarly disposed of as their
ability to transmit is destroyed, and we expect the project to peak
by the end of the year, at which time other impediments to our
influence can be tackled."
    "Who is that guy?" Willie asked as the
picture dissolved.
    "That's Nick. Didn't I tell you he's a
pistol? Did you ever hear anything so rich?"
    "Did he say what I thought he said? Did he
have the collections at the Library of Congress blown up?"
    She nodded.
    "Sam's death?"
    "Well—no. Can't take credit for everything,
though, well, hell, why not. Sure. Slugged the old geezer right in
his sentimental ticker."
    Willie took a deep breath to keep his whiskey
down.
    "How about the plane wreck with Nedra and
Josh? That an accident?"
    "Nicky baby has something to do with 'most
all so-called accidents, darlin'. What's the matter? You look like
you ate somethin’ bad. I showed you that to give you a laugh. Don't
tell me—"
    "No, no," he said hurriedly. This was more a
nightmare than a dream by now and he had no idea what kind of a
thing Lulubelle Baker was but he knew enough not to antagonize her.
"Just that these here saddle sores are gettin' sorer all the
time."
    She pulled a little vial of powder from her
cleavage and shook it at him. "I have something right here that
will fix you right up. It's new—devil dust—lots better than angel
dust."
    He might have known an aspirin was too much
to expect in this place. "It's okay, darlin'. If you don't mind
I'll just use your bathroom and mop 'em off again while I'm in
there. Then I reckon I'd better get back to the ranch and see—"
    "You can't go back now," she said, her red
eyes kindling threateningly.
    "Oh, just long enough to clear my name,
darlin'," he called back casually.
    "I jest showed you that 'cause I thought
you'd get a kick out of it," she wailed in a wounded fashion.
"Nicky'd be real unhappy if he knew about it but I told him, shoot,
Nick, some of those singers are my best folks and I felt like you'd
like knowin' how we gave all those do-gooders their
come-uppance."
    "Who's Nick? Is he some kind of organized
crime boss?"
    "Not crime. We don't care one way or the
other about law. Just what seems like fun, stirrin' things up some.
There now, try a little of this. You'll like it. It won't hurt you,
honest."
    She held out the vial to him. He held out his
pistol to her, barrel first.
    "Don't think I can say the same about this,
Lulubelle. I want to thank you for your hospitality, for the
entertainment, but just now I think I'll be on my way if it's all
the same to you."
    Her laugh was as bitter as bile. "No skin off
my ass, darlin'. I was just bein' friendly, for old times' sake.
Outta the goodness of my li'l ol' black heart. Go on and make a
fool of yourself. Run your goddamn mouth. Nobody's gonna believe an
old soak like you anyway. And you missed the chance of your life to
make beautiful music instead of that racket you used to make."
    The banjo twanged "Goodnight Irene" all the
way down the steps, through the crowd, and out the door where
Willie stepped into the brightness of a hot Texas morning, blinked
to adjust his eyes, and found himself in the middle of an empty
plain beside an exhausted horse. He knew it was exhausted because
he could see its chest heave once in a while and because it didn't
stink any worse than it did, which it would have if it were
dead.
     
    * * *
     
    News of Josh Grisholm's death sent Julianne
Martin straight to her spiritual advisor, Lucien Santos.
Fortunately, Santos had been able to see her right away. He was
immensely popular, as he should be, since he possessed a psychic
gift greater than any of the