Wonder Where

Thanks to the knee doctor for editing assistance

A Jake Rivers Invitational entry.

Note from Jake Rivers:

This is my fifth semi-annual "invitational." The initial one was based on the Statler Brother's song, "This Bed of Rose's." The second used the Marty Robbins El Paso trilogy: "El Paso" "El Paso City " and "Faleena." The third had stories based on the various versions of "Maggie May" or "Maggie Mae." The fourth invitational was based on any Country & Western song.

The current invitational is based on any song written or performed by Merle Haggard.

Regards, Jake

*

I WONDER WHERE I'LL FIND YOU AT TONIGHT

(Merle Haggard)

I wonder if I'll find you in some honky tonkin' bar

I wonder if I'll find the hidden place you parked the car

I wonder if I'll find you holdin' someone tight

Oh I wonder where I'll find you at tonight

It always seemed to take longer to get to the top. It was hard to tell if the guys were looking forward to the night off, or just pissed off that they lost two hours. Two hours into a twelve-hour shift and the methane alarm goes off. I still had the four sticks and their caps in the yellow bag hanging from my shoulder. There wouldn't be any blasting done tonight, and now I was stuck with the bag again. The magazine, where they kept the dynamite under lock and key, stayed open just long enough for the dogwatch to check out their daily ration. I would be taking the yellow satchel home with me again. It was a pain in the butt, but the pay differential made up for the inconvenience.

I grabbed my Carhartt from the locker and started out the door. I could make out the gray clouds rolling in over the mountains to the east. By the time I got across the parking lot, Marty had the truck warmed up and ready to go.

"Damn it, Travis. I don't understand why you can't get a beat up old truck so you'd at least have something to drive?"

"You know I can't afford it. Just making the payments on Donna's Mustang keeps me in the poor house. It ain't easy to feed three kids and a have a high maintenance wife."

"You are the most pussy-whipped guy I know. She's been wrapping you around her finger since grade school."

Marty was right. Donna latched on to me when we were both kids. She was pushy and bossy, but the prettiest little girl in the whole county. I put up with all her crap just to be with her. Somehow or other, it got out of hand.

We were barely out of the lot when the rain started coming steady. It was a dark, cold rain. You could tell it was going to last most of the night. The only good thing rain did, as far as I was concerned, was to wash the coal dust off the world. Of course, the farmers thought otherwise. The wipers on Marty's old F100 were slapping heavy and leaving big streaks across the windshield. The crack on the passenger's side started leaking on to the dash, like it always did. Yeah. That's just what I needed, a beat up old truck.

It was only fifteen minutes to the trailer park. The whole place turned to mud when it rained. It would have been nice if they at least put down some gravel once in a while. All we needed was a down payment to get out. The trouble was, every time I saved a little, Donna found something to spend it on.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, same time."

"Thanks Marty." Marty and I grew up together. Neither one of us planned to work the mines, but that's how it ended up. He was going to join the Air Force, but they wouldn't take him without a high school diploma. I wanted to become a certified auto mechanic of some type. That didn't work out either.

"Hey Travis. Where is the Mustang?"

It's hard to miss seeing a bright yellow car, except when it is not there. I just shrugged and walked into the double wide as he pulled out.

My three boys were all sitting on the floor in front of the TV when I walked in.

"Where is your mother?"

Todd, the eight year old, just looked at me and shrugged.

"When did she leave?"

"About ten minutes after you left for work."

I got the distinct feeling I was interfering with their television watching.

"What did she have on?"

"Her red dress." One thing I knew for sure is that she didn't wear that dress to go to the supermarket. It was low cut and came above her knees. I will say that she looked good in that red dress.

I put my crib can in the refrigerator. It would still be good tomorrow. "Did your mother feed you before she left?"

Todd was the only one responding to my questions. "No. I fixed supper."

"What did you guys have?"

"Cocoa Puffs."

The three of them seemed transfixed to the boob tube. It was obvious that I was an unwelcome distraction. As far as I was concerned, Todd was not old enough to be watching himself, let alone his younger brothers. Terry was six and Shawn was going on three.

"Todd if you get a chance, put a clean pair of pants on Shawn. It's pretty clear that he pissed himself." I had a hard time believing that a three year old was not potty-trained yet. Donna was the type of mother that felt kids should raise themselves.

I grabbed a quick beer and took a leak. It was raining like hell outside, but I had an uncontrollable urge to go find my wife. I wondered where I'd find her at tonight? Everything was fine up until about four years ago. Donna started going out with her friend, Martha Lou. At first it was only once a week, while I stayed with the two boys. It slowed down some, while she was pregnant with Shawn, but after he was born she started up again. When I went on the night shift at the mines, she would get a sitter while I was working. About six months ago, she started leaving them alone.

Marty was right about one thing, I was pussy whipped. The entire time I was with Donna, I let her call the shots. She always made the decisions as to what we would do and where we would go. I really had no say-so about anything. She was so exciting to be with, that I would endure anything to make her happy. I guess that was my problem. The best thing about our relationship was the sex. I got more sex than any other guy I knew, and it was good sex.

In all fairness to myself, I did make an attempt to curtail her extracurricular activities but I failed miserably. Donna's daddy was a deputy sheriff when we got married, and shortly after that he was elected to the position as county sheriff. He never liked me. He let me know in no uncertain terms, that I was not good enough for his only child. I realize now, that he was right. I could not provide for her in the manner that she required

One night, before she got pregnant with Shawn, I went to one of the local honky tonks and attempted to force Donna to come home with me. I was not quiet about it. Her father showed up in less than ten minutes. Donna's dad was a big man and he was belligerent as hell. He slammed me up against the wall in the middle of the bar and informed me in front of a hundred people that if I ever touched his daughter again he would beat the living shit out of me. Donna was able to calm him down, and she did leave with me. That was the last time we ever had a discussion about her running around. After Shawn was born, she seemed to enjoy doing it, just to irritate me. A famous man once said, "All men live lives of quiet desperation." I don't know who he was, but he was one smart dude.

I looked at my three boys on the floor and decided I didn't want to do this anymore. It was still raining.

"Momma. It's Travis. I need you to do a favor for me." My mother and I were always on good terms, except when it came to Donna. She had a sixth sense about her, and never really warmed up to my wife. Donna was smart and pretty, but momma felt she was a sneak and not to be trusted. Looks like she was right also. Everybody was right, except Travis.

"Why aren't you at work boy? How do you expect to feed those three youngins, if you are taking off work?"

"Didn't take off. They shut down again because of the bottom gas. I need you and dad to come over and pick up the kids. I have to go out for a while and don't want to leave them alone."

"Where is your loving wife, boy?"

"I'm not sure."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "You do what you have to do son. You know that your daddy and I will always back you up."

"Thanks momma." It's good sometimes to have family.

Donna had a cell phone, but I decided not to call her.

The boys were still glued to the television as I put my Carhartt back on and picked up the yellow satchel. I slid an old army surplus poncho over my head and stepped out into the rain. My sons never seemed to notice my leaving. Now I wished I had the old truck Marty was joking about.

It was less than a half-mile from the trailer park to the main street. Once I was on the asphalt the walking got easier. It didn't take long for the rain to make me feel worse than I was. The poncho only came down to my knees, so my Levi's were soaked in the first ten minutes. For some reason, my left sock was wet. I made a mental note to waterproof my boots again, when I had the time. The poncho was keeping my head dry, but the rain was blowing into my face. Every few minutes, I had to wipe away the water just to see.

Most of the bars were on the other side of town, naturally. It was an odd town. On one side of the main street was a railroad track and on the other side, all the stores. Of course, the stores were closed now, that is, the ones that were still in business. The street lights all worked fine and you could actually see the raindrops as they fell in front of the globes. Two cars stopped and offered me a ride, but I just waved them on.

The south end of town ended right before the interstate. The last place still open would be Joe's Truck Stop. It used to be Joe's Coffee Shop before they put the interstate in. They served good meals and hot coffee. The truckers liked it because the diesel was always a few cents cheaper than the big boys. Between where I was and Joe's, there were at least a dozen bars and half as many motels. On a night like tonight, I didn't figure Donna would want to drive too far. All I had to do was find a yellow Mustang. Too bad I couldn't afford a taxi to carry me around.

The rain was relentless. The thunder seemed to be moving away, but the water stayed. The first three bars were small, gloomy places where mostly older folk sat and sipped the same glass for an hour. Not the type of place Donna would seek out, but they still deserved a check. I stood outside and looked through the windows. The hot spots were down the road further, down where the neon lights seemed to shimmer in the wet air. My left foot was soaked now and started to get a little cold. I moved on, looking carefully at the cars. They all seemed to be gray until you got within 100 feet or so. I guess it was a trick that the night rain plays with your eyes. I never noticed it before.

The Roundabout was the hottest spot in town. When Donna and I went out, we always ended up at the Roundabout. I finally reached it, after several more dead ends. It was big enough that I was forced to go in. I stood by the end of the bar dripping wet, like a pitiful dog.

"Damn Travis, you look like shit. What the hell are you doing walking around on a night like this?" Walt was a good bartender and the owner of the Roundabout. He walked over with a smile on his face and handed me a dry bar towel. "Don't move Travis. I don't want to have to mop the whole damn floor up."

I wiped my face and ran the towel through my hair. Even with the poncho hood up, my hair got soaked. When I handed it back to him, I got a short draft in its place. I looked around the room and all I saw was a hundred people and Martha Lou. She had two guys with her, but looked to be alone.

"She left about twenty minutes ago, Travis."

I handed Walt the empty and gave a nod, just to let him know I heard him and understood.

"She was with Alvin Pittman. He usually goes to the Whispering Pines because they have parking in the rear."

I put the hood of the poncho back over my head, nodded again to Walt and stepped out the door. The rain was slowing down, but still there. The lightning was far to the west now and the thunder almost gone. It was only a ten-minute walk to the Whispering Pines. I found myself shaking my left foot every hundred feet or so.

The yellow Mustang was parked right next to Alvin's king cab duel wheel pickup. There were no lights in the back parking lot. I guess there was a reason for that.

I was only there for about five minutes. I was good at my job and took pride in my work. The walk back to the Roundabout seemed to go a lot faster than the walk to the Whispering Pines. The rain was down to a slow drizzle, so I shucked the poncho before going in.

It was obvious that Walt did not know how to approach me, or what to say. He was a nice guy and I know he didn't want to be remembered as the bearer of bad news. He had no idea what I was up to. I gave him a small smile to put him at ease and asked him to have the waitress ask Martha Lou over.

"What's up Travis? Why the hell aren't you at work?" Her voice reeked of sarcasm. It was all I could do to keep from smacking her in the face.

"Where is she, Martha Lou? Where the hell is Donna, and don't give me any shit."

"Well I guess she is home with your kids. Isn't that where she is supposed to be? Maybe you should take your sweet ass back there and tend to business."

Walt sensed the tension and handed me a beer in an attempt to cool things off a little.

I drank half of the glass and leaned towards the bitch. "I am going to find her and I will kill her and any guy she is with. Do you understand?"

All of a sudden the arrogance was gone. Martha Lou seemed genuinely impressed. That simply statement was totally against my nature as everybody in the county knew it. Walt looked a little shocked, but I noticed a small smile growing on his face.

"I said, do you understand?"

Martha Lou nodded, but not a word came out of her mouth. She was always quick with the retorts, but not today. As she walked to her table she looked back at me, twice. I handed Walt the empty glass. He insisted on shaking my hand before I left. He never did that before. Across the room, Martha Lou was frantically talking on her cell phone.

I picked up the poncho outside the door and dropped it, and the empty yellow bag, into the dumpster beside the bar. I wasn't trying to hide anything, because I had no intention of staying around. I am sure the mine would catch hell, because of the unaccounted for dynamite, but I wasn't planning on going back there either.

I figured I had about ten minutes to make it down to the truck stop, if I walked fast.

Joe's was busy as usual. The asphalt was still wet but the damn rain had stopped. I had to talk to three drivers before one of them offered me a ride. Houston sounded great to me. Just as we were entering the ramp to the interstate, there was a loud explosion about a quarter mile away. We watched the orange ball and black smoke rise up, visible even in the dark. My driver said a couple of words that I seemed to miss. He didn't notice the smile on my face as I looked out the window.

Epilogue: I had no trouble getting a job at the Pasta De Conchos mine near Palau. They were pleased to get a certified shot firer, after they lost several men. It seemed that I helped them meet some type of insurance requirements. The yellow Mustang completely disappeared, along with my loving wife. They had a memorial service, but there was no casket. Alvin was blown across the parking lot by the blast, and ended up splattered on the side of a dumpster. I felt bad about Alvin, but at least he had a funeral.

I don't imagine I will be able to go back home again, since there is no statute of limitations on what I did. Since blasting is a federal offense, the ATF is also interested in finding me. Mom and dad are bringing the boys down this summer. At least I don't have to wonder any more.