White Lightning Page #5

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- Is Dude cooperating?

Yeah.

Why you gotta come around here?

I told you I'd call you.

- Cool it.

- What you gotta bother these people for?

Let's go.

Be seein' you, McKlusky. Take it easy.

By the way, what are you

so dressed up for, Sugar Puddin'?

When I woke up I was feelin' so fine,

I just thought I'd put on

a new dress for you, Roy.

Where'd you go this afternoon, Gator?

- Over to Dude's.

- Did you go with him?

- No.

- No.

That's mighty fine

spruce and dogwood, isn't it?

Hi, Huey.

- You got my sugar?

- Five sacks.

- Big Bear wanted eight.

- Haven't got it.

- They been checkin' on us lately.

- We'll take it.

Where'd you and him go this mornin'?

Noplace.

Big Bear hasn't paid me for the last he got,

and we're not runnin' any credit.

I'll tell him. Give me some beadin' oil, too.

Buck Thurmond took my last.

I won't have any till Tuesday.

- Where'd you and Lou go?

- Walkin'.

- It took you long enough.

- Hey.

You got somethin' to say to me, say it.

I don't want you lookin' at Lou no more.

Let me ask you somethin'.

Just exactly what are your intentions?

About what?

- Are you gonna marry her or what?

- What?

That's just what I thought.

Marry her? What the hell has that got to do

with what we were talking about?

- Where's Dude?

- I don't know.

I just want him to come down

the court-house, discuss some things.

Course, you can call the NAACP first,

or the ACLU or...

...the CIO, the FBI or any other damn thing.

- Well, he's not here.

- Well, he ain't here.

Maybe you'd better come with us, then.

Yes, sir. I'll just get my pocketbook.

You better go help her

lock the back door, I think.

Let me go. Please don't.

Don't. Stop it.

Would you let my deputy

up from there, please?

Now, where's Dude?

- Where is Dude?

- He's out at his folks'.

What about that guy in that brown sedan?

Haulin' with Roy Boone.

Thank you, honey, for your cooperation.

See you later.

We're givin' him stuff as sweet

as that old Hatchy River was.

If you'd sweeten this hogwash up,

you'd get him up to six.

You know as much about making whiskey

as a flop-eared mule.

Tell 'em to sweeten it up.

If I sweeten this up,

we're gonna be fired back here.

Quit drinkin' that stuff. Get behind there

and help me get this stuff outta here.

You been messin' around all day.

Take it easy on that Ford this time.

I'll let Dude work on it.

Stop nippin' on that jug.

If you don't start making it better,

I'm gonna quit drinkin' it altogether.

Keep your eyes on that popper keg.

I don't care if it gets a little too short. We're

not making this stuff for the government.

Take them back there.

Like a pile of maggots in the outhouse.

- You better be glad you got me.

- Where's that Gator?

Hell, I don't know.

Shaking the dew off his lily, I guess.

I'll be back in a minute.

You get them jugs

outta here like I told you.

- Hi.

- What?

You really like them electric hair-driers?

Must make your head hot.

With all them chemicals,

you're gonna ruin your hair.

I don't care for naturally curly hair.

I like the artificial kind,

with the curlers in it.

- What are you doin' in here?

- Just talkin' to the lady.

Get the hell out.

Get that thing back on your head.

- What say, Frank?

- What's happening?

Not much. What you makin' there, Scotch?

Bourbon.

This here's Gator McKlusky. He's gonna

be makin' some runs for Big Bear.

McKlusky. I knew a McKlusky once

who lived in Oleander County.

- Want another case Saturday?

- Yeah.

Jim McKlusky. Made real still pot liquor,

not this lead radiator poison.

Just sell it. Don't drink it, Frank.

He looked a little bit like you.

Jim McKlusky. He any kin to you?

- What'd you say?

- Is he any kin to you?

- My daddy.

- Well, I'll be go to hell.

You Jim McKlusky's boy?

It's been a long time.

Long time ago. 1952. When I was a kid,

he used to work in the shot house.

Let's go. Ain't got time to shoot the breeze.

When you see your daddy,

you tell him Frank Robley said hello.

I'll tell him.

What you got in that book?

You got the wrong idea.

You better not keep

tryin' somethin' with Lou.

- I ain't talkin' about Lou.

- I am.

- You been writin' a love poem?

- You peanut head.

You don't know your can

from second base.

- I don't have to take that from nobody.

- You super giant ass!

Damn you!

Goddam it! Let go of me!

You stupid...!

Punk!

Now, listen, you son of a...

Goddam it!

Shoot!

- Hey.

- What?

You damn peanut head.

Don't tell me you wasn't

messin' around with Lou.

I don't mind you foolin' around, but I can't

let you block the alley with this vehicle.

I'm gonna have to give you a citation.

- Yes, sir.

- Yes, sir.

Hey, Skeeter.

Still tryin' to beat that machine?

He ain't here.

I didn't ask if anybody was here,

Mrs Watson.

You was talkin' about Dude in town.

He ain't here. I ain't seen him.

Howdy, Mrs Watson. What you doin'?

Makin' a banana puddin'?

What I need to do, Skeeter,

is ask Dude a couple of questions.

You heard her. He ain't here.

Damn near had that 75 there.

Now, you wouldn't wanna see Dude

get in any trouble.

And I'm here to see he don't.

Just can't beat one of these Sears

Roebuck pinball machines. No, siree.

- You gotta hit the flippers.

- I hit the flippers all the time.

Where is he, Mrs Watson?

You know, don't you, Skeeter?

I believe you got a loose hinge here.

- Come here.

- You tryin' to tear my clothes off?

Feel in there.

Where is he? Where's he at?

Harry... Harry Boon's place!

Get some ice water for them fingers.

JW! Boy, we got a load out here for ya!

- JW!

- Roy? Is that you? Something's wrong.

There's nobody around here.

Let's get the hell...

Dude!

Get your hands off of me!

You can do better than that.

Come on.

Dammit!

Attaway!

Come back here!

Damn you.

Tan her hide, Freddie. Oughta be more

hide-tanning and less psychology.

Junior, go tell J C Connors

to come on down here.

Put the cuffs on him there. Elmer.

You should have done your time

and stayed in that prison.

It tees me off, federal sons of Yankees

comin' down here, stool-pigeonin'.

- I'm sorry about what I done to you.

- Get your hands off me.

You know how to put that stuff away,

don't you, boy?

You know, when you first come up

to my place, I knowed you wasn't right.

- I smelled it.

- Sheriff's on his way.

Dagnabit!

J C Connors'll come with that rowboat

now and some cement blocks.

We'll have to put this old boy away.

- Let's go upstairs.

- Get your damn hands off of me!

Why, you ignorant, stupid jughead!

Can't you see she ain't willin'?

Bring her back in here and sit her down.

Get your hands off!

I hope you rot and burn in hell!

I know why you're doin' that.

That's right. I'm gonna get

so goddam drunk,

I ain't gonna know what's happenin'

when you take me out to drown me.

You're gonna have more fun

than we are, ain't you?

Bet your big butt I am.

You know what? You're a good old boy.

It's a cryin' shame you gotta be

a sneakin', lyin', behind-the-back,

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