Wednesday night had become boys night out for Jason and Bass. The sheriff was off duty and came by their makeshift set of apartments to "check up on things." Jason defined "things" as "Charlie's vagina" and his definition of "check up on" grew more graphic and colorful after he'd switched to hard liquor. Miles and Rachel each seemed to need more sleep on Wednesdays and turned in for the night not long after Charlie had retired. Bass and Jason joked that they were building bookcases and the pounding was clearly a hammer piecing bits of wood together and not the headboard slamming the wall while Miles was laying pipe. The echoing groans and bangs made their rooms seem haunted, so Jason and Bass went out.
They'd gone north this time, covering five miles easily on horseback, and settled in at a cowboy bar. A mediocre band picked out a twangy tune from a small raised platform in the corner while couples swayed to the unsteady beat in front of them. Bass and Jason tucked into a booth near the bar and studied the crowd. Jason still found the oversized hats and buckles of cowboys a bit ridiculous, but he'd learned to keep the opinion to himself. He used to a worn baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes, and his leather jacket and work boots passed muster at the bar. Bass's black t-shirt and well worn jeans let him fit in anonymously anywhere.
"That one? Really?" Jason said, "She looks old enough to be my mom."
"And I'm old enough to be your dad, but here we are," Bass answered.
"She looks like a pro."
She did look like a hooker. While the farm girls sported jeans and collared shirts, this woman had cut off denim shorts, a midriff top, and teased hair. From the smiles she tossed out like Mardi Gras beads, her target market seemed to be men who remembered Daisy Duke. The other girls shyly smiled at men they thought might be looking to marry Laura Ingalls. Often they were the same men.
"She looks like she could pound Charlie right out of your head."
Jason took a long sip and reassessed the woman before setting his jaw and stating, "I've never paid for it and I'm not starting tonight."
Bass opted not to ask how much of "it" the kid has seen. His generation had grown up with plenty of weapons and little reliable birth control. Turning 20 with a body count exponentially higher than your booty count was common even among the ones who avoided the militia.
"She might just be a cougar." In response to Jason's quizzical stare he said, "An older woman who likes younger men. She could be good for you. Obsessing over a Matheson leads to madness."
Jason took another long sip while studying the woman over the top of his glass. Bass was less patient. Twice this month Jason had skipped the surer thing and spent the evening chasing a nice girl he'd never see again who hadn't put out. There was nothing wrong with that per se, but it was time for someone to take up the space in his brain Charlie currently occupied if for no other reason than so Bass didn't have to hear about her anymore. He didn't even bother pointing out the ones who looked too "Philly," Jason's word for highly polished women who cut through bullshit like butter. The kid had mommy issues to keep his daddy issues company.
Bass caught Daisy Duke's eye and nodded his head, calling her over to their table. She moved across the room with an exaggerated shimmy that said an hour with her would give Jason enough wank material to carry him into spring.
"Well look at you two," she said. "I haven't seen so much handsome in one place in a long time. Are you boys interested in a two for one special?"
Jason froze mid-sip and his beer flowed past the corners of his mouth and down his shirt. Bass struggled for a neutral expression before giving in to a burst of laughter.
"Probably not tonight," Bass said, reaching across the table to tip Jason's glass back to level and stop the spill.
"Your loss," she said. "Or maybe mine." She walked away, swaying her hips like a pendulum, and paused to toss a wink back to them over her shoulder.
"Exactly what was she offering?" Jason asked.
Bass laughed outright. "If you have to ask, you probably can't handle it."
