Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Please change my wish,” he wailed aloud,
“For fame is all for naught,
“Without my bride, my Love avowed,
This is my lesson taught.”
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
Johnny should’ve been catching the fastest stagecoach out of Red River Valley.
He was smart enough to know that. Smart enough to know everything . He was probably the smartest person in town. Not that Johnny called himself a genius. He was far too modest. He just knew other people called him that. A lot. And he couldn’t help but notice that they were right. His creative genius was unrivaled.
Which is why Johnny was smart enough not to leave town. Because if he left, then Pecos Bill won, and Johnny wasn’t going to lose to that True-Love-snatching animal.
No way.
Johnny was a creative genius and he was going to fight back. Standing in the shadows, between the false-front buildings of the Saloon District, he watched The Kitchen burn.
“Good luck putting that coyote center stage, now.” He’d muttered as he threw the moonshine Molotov cocktail onto the roof. It should’ve been enough to get rid of Bill once and for all. It was supposed to be the coyote’s rehearsal time.
Johnny had watched with glee, as The Kitchen went up in smoke.
His whole body hurt from the beating that crazed coyote kid had given him. He was pretty sure some bones were cracked. His vocal cords might never recover from the near strangulation. If his singing voice was damaged, it would be a loss to the whole world. But with steadfast determination to destroy his enemies and a whole lot of drugs, he’d pushed on towards his goal.
It was all worth it.
Dinah and that horrible drum-playing Beaver had eventually come stumbling onto the street, coughing and covered in soot. Everyone else got out, too. But no Bill. Johnny thought he’d done it! That he’d rid the world of that dirty bastard.
Then, Bill came running up to the saloon. He’d missed his rehearsal time and hadn’t been in The Kitchen at all, which was just fucking infuriating. The son of a bitch was so unprofessional.
Hidden in one of the small alleyways, Johnny’s hands clenched at his sides.
He had his gun and holster. He’d managed to retrieve them from where he’d stashed them at the studio, before the cops shut the place down. However, he’d never fired the revolver before. It was just a fashion accessory. He was certain to miss Bill at this distance and then where would he be? Caught! And the coyote would still be free.
He needed a better plan. Something too big to fail.
Bill stood with Clem and Hank and that psycho kid who’d attacked Johnny for no reason. (Johnny recognized those weird, predatory eyes, even though the boy now looked human.) Why were those coyotes allowed to roam the streets, while Johnny was a wanted man? How was that fair?
“Dinah!” Clementine threw her arms around the old bitch in relief. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”
Hasten-2 significantly improved Johnny’s sight and hearing, so he was able to make out her words even from a distance. The elixir wasn’t nearly as dark and dangerous as people said. It clarified all his senses. Plus, it was organic. He was adding it to his smoothies.
“Settle down, now. I’m fine.” Dinah patted Clem’s back. “You okay, girl? I heard you got attacked by the same asshole who did this .”
“Johnny set your saloon on fire?” Hank asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. Like he was already sure that Johnny was responsible for the fire, with no evidence at all.
Judgmental dick. So typical that he’d blame Johnny for everything. Hank had never liked him. Everybody knew it.
“Johnny did it, for sure.” Tony volunteered, his eyes on the conflagration. “I didn’t see him, but he was in here the other night, trying to buy drugs and pitchin’ a fit because Dinah wouldn’t let him play.”
Johnny shook his head in disgust. Tony was making it sound so much worse than it was. He’d always been jealous of Johnny’s talent, so he was probably relishing this opportunity to have a leg up on him.
“Johnny’s going away for a long, long time.” Hank muttered, jotting down notes in a little book. “The girls he assaulted. The attack on Clem. Breaking into Luke’s place. And now arson. I can count at least twenty felonies he’ll be facing.”
Twenty? Johnny winced. Even if he fled town, how was he going to outrun twenty felonies? What if they tried to send him to the Wicked, Ugly, and Bad Mental Health Treatment Center and Maximum Security Prison? He was born Good! He couldn’t survive in a place like that. They probably didn’t even have a worthwhile music program.
“Little turd.” Dinah gave a cough, her jaw set tight. “My whole business is going up in smoke, because of Johnny Jacobs’ small-dick syndrome.”
“We’ll rebuild The Kitchen.” Clementine promised. (She wasn’t even trying to defend Johnny. Some “best friend” she was.) “All that matters is you’re safe, Dinah.”
Dinah sniffed, unconvinced. “Nothing’ll ever get the saloon back exactly how it was.” She seemed close to tears.
Excellent. They all deserved to suffer.
Johnny scratched his face. Hasten-2 dried out his skin. He needed his bespoke moisturizer, but the damn cops were watching his house. It was outrageous how he was being treated like a criminal. Pecos Bill was the Bad guy and everybody knew it.
Fuck.
He couldn’t deal with prison. What was he going to do? Johnny didn’t see a way out.
“Dinah, didn’t you say some handsome coyote helped you construct The Kitchen?” Clem persisted.
In the light of the fire, her curls looked like molten gold. Johnny had never noticed how pretty her hair was before. Clem was so obviously supposed to be his. It wasn’t fair that she’d picked the coyote. It just wasn’t fair.
Her question got Dinah’s attention shifting. “I did.” She confirmed, in a slightly more optimistic voice. “That coyote could swing a hammer. …And some other things.”
“Well, maybe he remembers how he built The Kitchen the first time.” Clementine shrugged. “We can track him down and ask. Worst case scenario: You reconnect with a very good-looking man, who’s probably dying to have another shot with you.”
“He might not even recall me, after all these years.” Dinah patted her smoke-covered hair.
“He’ll remember you.” Bill interjected. “Coyotes have long memories for the pretty girls who catch our eye. You call him and he’ll come runnin’ back.”
“I just might do that, then.” Dinah preened. “Only so he can help me with my saloon construction, you understand. Not for any funny business.”
“Why, no one would suggest otherwise, you being such an upstanding lady and all.” Even as he reassured Dinah, Bill’s attention was scanning the darkness.
Johnny had the uneasy feeling that the coyote sensed he was nearby. He shifted farther into the alley, hoping that the smell of the fire blocked out whatever scent Bill might be able to detect. It was disgusting how much like a creature the guy was. What did Clem see in him?
That psycho, younger coyote stood next to Bill. “It coulda been Pa. If he thought it would wreck your big show, he’d burn down a bar, for sure.”
Well, there you had it! Somebody else hated Bill. It wasn’t just Johnny who saw through the bastard’s slow-talking, guitar-player act to the beast beneath.
“You promised me twenty-four hours before a massacre, Bill.” Hank called. “The law can handle this. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
Bill grunted. He was the only one in the crowd facing away from the fire, his attention on the surrounding buildings.
A sick sensation twisted Johnny’s insides. The coyote was hunting for him.
“Want me to look around?” The kid offered and took a step away from Bill, apparently ready to scout the area.
“No, Luke.” Bill grabbed hold of the boy, dragging him backwards. “I don’t want you tangling with Johnny or Hop.” The kid named Luke was taller than Bill, but Bill clearly posed the bigger danger. He positioned his body in front of the younger coyote. Icy eyes continued to scan the darkness.
Luke frowned. “I can handle them, while you watch over Clementine.”
“No.” Bill repeated, his voice inflexible. “You stay right here, where I can keep an eye on you and Clem.”
The kid blinked, as if Bill’s protection stunned him. “Why do you care what happens to me? Don’t you look at me and hate me? Don’t you see me as his? ”
Bill tore his gaze away from searching for Johnny. “I see you as Clem’s.” He said mildly, his attention on Luke.
“I’m not tryin’ to steal her from you. It’s not like that.” Luke shook his head emphatically. “I just like how nice she is. And how she listens to my music. And how she’s really smart. I thought maybe you could let me be near her sometimes. I swear I wouldn’t hurt her. I just…” He trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug.
“Your coyote’s new and it wants a momma.” Bill diagnosed. “You think she’s the perfect one.”
“No.” Luke scoffed in a very quick and overly dismissive tone. “I’m too old for that shit.”
Bill looked skeptical. “Well, I’m fixin’ to share my mate’s attention with you, so you’d better be real sure about what it is you do want, then.”
“She can be my big sister, maybe.” Luke suggested eagerly. “Since we’re brothers, that makes her my family, too. I promise, I’ll be real gentle with her. I’ll be just how she thinks I am. I won’t do anything Bad to her.”
They were brothers? Yeah, Johnny could see that. They both sucked.
“But Clem can act like a mom to my coyote, if she wanted to.” Luke went on. “Every now and then, I mean. I wouldn’t mind that, too much.”
“I don’t imagine you’d mind anything Clementine does.” Bill mused. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never belonged to nobody, like you belong to her.”
Another awkward shrug. “So you’ll let me be near her, a little bit?” Luke persisted. There was a desperate edge to the question. The kid might start begging if Bill took Clem away from him and his beast.
Bill grunted. “Since you’re moving into our house, I think you’ll be near her plenty.”
Now Clem would have two coyotes hanging around her? Repulsive.
Luke’s mouth opened and then closed again, apparently unsure how to respond to Bill. “Oh.” He seemed dazed. “I didn’t… Um… Did Clem tell you to give me a place to stay?”
“My wife and I communicate on a higher artistic plane.” Bill boasted. “We understand things without having to say them aloud. Also, Woody’s evicted you from your apartment, ‘cause you don’t pay rent. Where else you gonna go?”
“I don’t know. I could figure it out, though.”
Bill arched a brow. “It’s figured. You can have Clem’s old room. She’s sleepin’ in mine now, anyway.”
Johnny made a snarling sound of frustration.
“Thanks.” Luke got out. “For real. Thank you, Bill.”
Bill patted his shoulder. “You can help me guard Clementine. We’ll see how thankful you are after you see what kind of mayhem that woman brews up on a daily basis.”
“You’d… trust me to defend your mate?” The kid made it seem like that was a huge, special honor for coyotes.
Maybe it was. They were basically dogs.
Bill considered things for a beat. “Yeah, I will.”
Luke’s shoulders straightened and he somehow looked even taller. “Ya know, at first I thought she should be with some nice guy, but now I get why that’s too risky. You’re right. Clem gets into a lot of trouble. Some friendly, happy fella wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. Not like you could.” He bobbed his head. “And I’ll help you.”
“I’ll always put Clem first.” Bill concurred. “You do the same. And we’ll figure out how to be brothers as we go along. Deal?”
“Deal!” Luke nodded again, pleased and flattered. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that. I’ll go watch her, right now.” He moved closer to Clementine, like she was the sun and he was dying to get warm.
It was pathetic how far Clem had fallen. Her hair might be beautiful, but she didn’t deserve to be Johnny’s True Love. All muses were trashy, and she was the worst of them. Nothing but a whore for monsters.
But those monsters were loyal to her.
Even if Johnny survived being sent to prison for the twenty felonies that he’d barely even committed, the coyotes would eventually find a way to kill him. They were villains. Their vile pack would slaughter Johnny, no matter where he went. It was obvious!
He scrubbed a hand over his chapped lips, nervously picking at the dried skin. Did they think he was just going to wait for them to come for him? Did they think he was weak?
On the street, Tony Beaver watched Bill from the corner of his eye. “You’re a better man than I figured you were.” The words sounded grudgingly contrite. “I don’t guess I mind so much that you married Clem.”
Bill slanted him a look. “If you think I’m gonna share her attention with you too, you’re dreaming.”
“No, I thought you only wanted her, because she was a muse. But now I see that you really love the girl. Like a lot .”
Bill stared at him.
“I’m an artist, too. I pick up on that kind of stuff.” Tony nodded wisely. “Love makes the heart happy.”
Johnny expected Bill to deny he even had a heart, like he always did when someone brought it up.
Instead, Bill cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He agreed softly.
Johnny’s jaw dropped. What the fuck? Everybody knew coyotes were brutes. They had no deeper feelings.
“I… accept your apology, Tony.” Bill went on. “I didn’t appreciate your remarks at my wedding. I had planned to do some quiet and indirect things, because of them. But instead, I’ll let it go.” He seemed proud of his restraint.
Tony looked touched. “Cool! Thanks, bro. Hey, if you guys are holding a wedding reception, I can compose a drum solo for it. Consider it a gift.”
“Why, Hank’s throwing me a bachelor party.” Bill’s head canted to one side. “I’ll betcha he’d love to hear a rousing drum solo played at that shindig. It’d be real memorable.”
Tony beamed, his buck teeth sticking out in self-importance.
The fire department arrived to put out the blaze. It was too late to save The Kitchen. However, they prevented the flames from spreading to any other structures in the Saloon District.
Bill paced around like he wanted to pursue his countless enemies, but he reluctantly let the police work. Hank’s men were moving through the maze of streets, searching one alley at a time. Johnny would have to leave soon. Hide someplace, before they found him. He couldn’t make himself go, though. Not yet.
News crews took pictures. Luke tucked a blanket around Clementine’s shoulders. Dinah was already planning her grand reopening. And Johnny was hearing his name less and less.
Instead, he started hearing Bill’s name more and more.
It began rolling like a wave over the scattered crowd. People on their phones, holding up the screens so other folks could see. Head’s swiveling Bill’s way. Surprised gasps and excited whispers.
Pecos Bill.
Ranger O’Rourke.
Tomorrow’s show.
It took a minute for the individual sounds to connect and for Johnny to understand their meaning. There had been a last-minute cancellation on Home on the Range . Mamie had appealed to her dad, citing Bill’s stellar guitar playing, selfless fight against sexism in the music industry, and something about horserace gambling. In support of his daughter (and the legions of music fans who were now rallying behind her cause) Ranger had offered the open slot on his program to Bill. No tryout necessary.
All the coyote had to do was walk on stage and play.
A roaring sound filled Johnny’s head. Rage and disbelief and the horrible sense that he’d lost. No.
“Bill!” Clem shrieked. Someone must have shown her Mamie’s post, because her face was alight with happiness. “You’re going to be on TV tomorrow!” She grabbed his arm, bouncing up and down.
“Tomorrow’s bad for me, darlin’.” Bill looked a little spooked, as people patted his back and offered congratulations. “I got a new job at Buffalo Roam. They’ll fire me, if I don’t show up.”
Clementine stopped bouncing. She gaped up at him like he was speaking in tongues. “Are you insane!? You’ve got a spot on Home on the Range . This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”
It was Johnny’s opportunity of a lifetime. His happily ever after.
And Bill had stolen it.
“The ranch is a good-paying job.” The dream-robbing coyote didn’t seem to understand the magnitude of the gift he’d just swindled for himself. “Best one I’ve had in a while.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s got horses.”
“I don’t care!”
“You really want me to lose a sixth job this week, darlin’?”
“Yes, unless Buffalo Roam is paying you to play guitar.”
“The ranch is reliable . Not like a job my pa woulda had.” Bill was getting more agitated. He looked over at Luke, as if his brother would back him up. “Right?”
“That’s for damn sure.” Luke scoffed. “Pa never held a job in his life. That loser’s still clinging to the delusion that he can be a music star.”
Bill made a “There, you see?” hand gesture at Clementine.
Clem frowned at Luke.
The boy glanced at her face, saw she was unhappy with his response, and instantly backtracked. “But you’re more talented than Pa, Bill. That makes a difference.”
Clem shot Bill a triumphant grin. “Exactly!”
Luke puffed up, pleased that he’d won her approval. The kid was so whipped. It was pitiful. Farcical. Stupid. This whole situation was stupid .
And Johnny was a creative genius. He wouldn’t allow it to happen.
Bill made an exasperated sound. “I want to be a Good husband. I can’t pay our bills without a steady paycheck. This ranch job is safe. It’s smart. It’s…”
Clem cut him off. “It’s hiding.” She declared firmly. “It’s hiding your talent, so you don’t have to take a risk on it. So you never have to be vulnerable. You know this is a huge break for you and it’s freaking you out.”
Bill winced, as if she was right but he didn’t want to admit it.
“You’re afraid to give music your all.” Clem pressed, her assertiveness dialed up to eleven. “Because you’d be admitting you need it.”
“I don’t need music.” Bill shook his head. “I don’t need anything, except…” He stopped short and scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Clem stepped closer to him, like she knew what he’d been about to say. “I’m not going anywhere, regardless.” She promised. “Half the reason you married me is to help with your career, though.”
“No.” Bill’s tone was flat and definite. “ None of the reason I married you was to help with my career. That has nothing to do with our relationship. Nothing at all.”
Clem blinked in surprise. “Well, it does if you’re using me as an excuse not to go after your dreams.” She declared, unwilling to be distracted from her harangue. (All women were nags. It never failed.) “Do you want to play guitar for a living, Bill? Yes or no? I will support you either way, but you need to choose. Choice is the most important thing in the world. It’s what keeps you free. Is music your choice?”
“I have to make sure we have enough fucking money to buy food and medicine and…”
“That’s not what I asked.” Clem interrupted. “ I am your manager. Trust me to handle the finances. Deep down, is playing guitar what you want? ”
His eyes found hers.
Her brows rose in gentle question.
He gave a jerky nod. “Yes.” He whispered, like he’d just bet big on a longshot.
“Then as your manager, I strongly advise you to go on Home on the Range . It will change your whole career. When people hear you play, you will make all the fucking money.”
He snorted in reluctant amusement at her cursing. “What if I don’t make all the fucking money, though?”
“Then, you’ll find another regular, boring job on Friday. You’re really good at that. But you’re even better at playing guitar.” Clem smiled, reaching up to lay a palm on his chest. “It’s okay to need music. Whether you’re famous or not, it’s not going to leave you. It’s a part of you. Just like I am.”
Bill leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.
“You should listen to your manager.” Luke decided. “I heard you playing at the Lone Prairie. Clem’s right. You’re supposed to be a star.”
“In order to be the kind of musician she wants me to be, I gotta…” Bill took a deep breath, starting over. “It’s a struggle for me to be…”
“Vulnerable?” Clem suggested when he seemed to be searching for the right word.
He cringed. “I told you, I never feel vulnerable.” Now, Bill sounded a lot like his brother, when Luke denied wanting a mother. “No. I just don’t like losing control over a situation.”
“Sometimes art means letting go, honey.” Clem kissed him lightly. “You can do this. I believe in you.”
“Ya do, huh?”
“Yes! So, believe in yourself.”
Bill sighed, as if it was such a hard decision to go on the most popular television program in the world. “All or nothin’.” He murmured. “Alright, then. I guess I’m goin’ on Home on the Range .”
Clem wrinkled her nose in delight. “Really?” She squealed.
“Why not? Hank’ll support us, if we go bankrupt. Him and me are becoming close as cattle in a crush…” Bill broke off with a grunt, as Clementine threw herself into his arms. A wide grin spread across his face and he held her close. “If I do make all the fucking money, I’m gonna buy us that damn ranch, though.” He kissed her temple. “It’s got trees.”
Johnny tuned out whatever else they said to each other. He didn’t want to hear their jubilant plans. He had plans of his own to make.
Bill would never stop. He’d get Johnny’s fans. Johnny’s muse. Johnny’s spot on Home on the Range . Johnny’s chicken and dumplings. Everything . Bill thought he could just mosey in and usurp Johnny’s entire destiny.
But he was dead wrong.
If Johnny couldn’t have the spotlight, he’d make sure Bill didn’t have it either. It was the only choice, now. He couldn’t lose. Not to Pecos Bill. Maybe he was backed into a corner, but Johnny was a creative genius. He could still come out with top billing, just like he was supposed to.
If the show was ending, Johnny Jacobs was leaving the stage with a bang.