"There was no doubt in anyone's mind--sooner or later Billy Tucker was gonna wind up inside Bingham Penitentiary ...."   

SYNOPSIS

    Wild, immature, guitar-playing, Billy Tucker gets five years at Bingham Penitentiary for stealing a guitar while still on parole for another crime.  Everyone, including the judge, the sheriff, and even the music store owner feel bad about it, but they figure it's time for Billy to grow up.
    Billy tells his cousin, Lonnie, to help out his pregnant girlfriend, Mary Jo, while he's gone.  Not the type to cope with life on her own, Mary Jo weeps as she tells Lonnie that she is unable to pay the rent now that Billy is gone and that she is also afraid of being alone.  Helpful Lonnie, (who was Mary Jo's boyfriend before Billy), tells her he will be more than happy to help her in her time of need and moves in with her.
    In prison, Billy forms a country band, but can't find a good singer.  While mopping the floor in front of the new warden's office, Billy hears someone singing and playing guitar inside.  He asks a guard the name of the prisoner singing.  The guard answers, "Ain't no prisoner; it's the new warden."  Amazed, but fearless, Billy asks the warden if he'd sing with the band.
    The warden, Jesse 'The Whiz' Manners, a rugged, former football hero in the state, who was cajoled into is job by his uppity wife and unsavory politician father-in-law, joins the band for the novelty and with hopes that it might create a better rapport between him and the inmates.  To everyone's surprise, the band and the warden are a smash at the prison and are soon invited to play at other prisons around the state.  Eventually, the band gets a write-up in the local newspaper.   
    Meanwhile, Billy's girlfriend, Mary Jo, gives birth to a red-headed baby girl.  However, Billy's hair is blond; Lonnie's is red.  Mary Jo and Lonnie worry about what Billy will do when he finds out, but decide to confront him.  They visit Billy in prison and before they can say anything, Billy looks at the baby and tells them, to their dismay, that his hair was also red when he was born and that it didn't turn blond until he was eight-years-old. Distraught, Mary Jo and Lonnie leave not knowing who the father is. Mary Jo refuses a DNA test.
    Judy Wiley, a pert, young producer at WINK TV in town, sees the band's write-up in the paper and asks the warden if she can produce a TV show featuring the band.  Jesse, constantly put down by his wife and his father-in-law for playing in the band, decides to stick it to them and gives Judy the okay to produce the show.  Jesse soon finds himself attracted to Judy, and Judy to him.  The show becomes a local hit and is eventually beamed to other states. 
    After watching the TV show in a dingy bar in Nashville, a has-been producer goes to Bingham prison.  He tells Jesse and Billy that he can make them stars and wants to record an album.  Jesse and Billy view the producer as 'spacey' but go along him so they can, at least, have a CD of the band. The recording equipment is snuck into an empty section of solitary confinement and they record an album entitled "Solitary Confinement."  To their amazement, Capitol Records offers a million dollars for it unaware that the band is in jail.
    A tornado strikes during one of their TV shows and Jesse is hurt. Quick thinking Billy and the band put the warden into an empty police car and drive him to the hospital. When the warden recoups, he asks the parole board to pardon the band because they saved his life and didn't try to escape. The band is soon paroled.  The band prepares to go on the road, but they are concerned that Jesse may not quit his job as warden and join them.   
    Billy meets with Lonnie and Mary Jo and realizes that they are really in love and backs off, leaving on good terms.  Not sure who the father really is, they decide that Lonnie will be the father and Billy will be an uncle since he will be on the road playing, but will help pay for the baby.
    Divorced from his wife, Jesse becomes involved with Judy Wiley. Jesse tells the band he decides to stay on as warden. Jesse's spot as lead singer is taken by a cousin of one of the band members.  In the end, we see the band on tour in different cities and finally playing to an audience of smiling faces at the Grand Ol' Opry.

FIRST TWO CHAPTERS

     The blazing sun shimmered across the array of flattened beer cans that spelled out, "Bilbo's Auto Repair and Junkyard," nailed neatly over the entrance to the dilapidated, red barn. Stapled to the paint-peeled sides of the barn were new and old weather-beaten posters of country and rock 'n' roll bands, past and present, and remnants of legal notices from the fire department, the health department, and the department of building and safety, all condemning the barn. Old Oklahoma license plates colorfully lined one side of the open double doors, and various demolition derby and rodeo posters lined the other.
     Junked cars, engines, doors, axles, wheels, seats, and piles of other discarded auto parts littered the outside premises. The smell of gasoline, oil, and solvents was omnipresent, and the dirt throughout the area was saturated with a black oily surface, although a few scraggly flowers and weeds fought the toxic environment and managed to survive. A small, white butterfly landed on one of the flowers but immediately flitted away. Aside the highway, about 50 yards away, a billboard read: "Welcome to Bingham, Oklahoma - Population 15,811 - Bingham Penitentiary Turn Left-5 Miles."
     Inside the garage, chain-smoking, leather-faced, ex-con, Virgil Bilbo, 40, and precocious, baby-faced Billy Tucker, 13, sweated as they worked under the hood of a car on a humid autumn afternoon. The train whistle from the Wabash Cannonball could be heard in the distance as it passed the railroad crossing a quarter of a mile away at Pawnee Road. Within seconds, it thundered down the tracks behind the garage at full speed, creating its usual mini-earthquake, shaking and vibrating the garage and everything on the premises. As usual, the insects outside let out a big stink for a minute or two, swarming their discontent, then finally went back to their daily lives of survival as the train disappeared into the distance.
     Virgil and Billy were so accustomed to the deafening clamor of the train-although it sounded like it was going to crash right into the barn-that they just kept on working as if they hadn't even heard it. The only effect from the train was that the long, dangling ashes on the end of Virgil's cigarette vibrated off. While they worked, Virgil glanced up from time to time at the national championship football game blasting over the beat-up TV set nearby.
     "It's a long pass!" shouted the announcer. "It's caught! Oh, no! It slipped off the fingers of Jesse 'the Whiz' Manners. The football was thrown just a little too long for Jesse to hold on to! But it was a great try by the Whiz."
     "Damn it! I thought Jesse caught that ball," Virgil moaned. "Okay, Billy. Now keep your eye on the fan blades while I put the radiator in. Holler if I'm going to hit any of them."
     "You got it, Virg," Billy said, watching closely as Virgil guided in the radiator with his long, tattooed arms. Billy studied Virgil's bizarre tattooed arms: a woman's head on the body of a snake, a fat, cross-eyed woman smoking a cigar, a spider web with a big eye in the center, and several other small faded ones.
     "You think I'm ready to get my first tattoo, Virg?"
     "Naw. You got plenty of time for that, Billy Boy."
     Billy idolized Virgil. Virgil took him fishing, to the rodeos, the stock car races, and any other event that came to Bingham or Oklahoma City. In a sense, even though Billy was poor, he saw and did many things that some affJoent kids didn't see or do because their parents were just too busy.
     "Time back in," bJorted the announcer on TV. "The ball's snapped! The quarterback hands the ball to the Whiz!" Virgil looked up at the TV. "He's at the 30! The 20! The 10!" Excited, Virgil stood up, banging his head under the open hood. He gave a yelp, grimaced, and rubbed his head, all of which did not deter him from the TV. "The Whiz is gonna score! He's gonna score," yelled the sportscaster. "Oh, no! He was pushed out of bounds at the 2-yard line! Oh, Lord! And with only three seconds left in the game, State quickly calls its last time out, and so are we. We'll be right back with the final play of the game with the national championship on the line."
     "I thought the Whiz was gonna score on that one, Billy Boy," Virgil said, looking back under the hood and quickly screwing the radiator in place. "Did you see how I put the radiator in, Billy?"
     "Sure did, Virg."
     "Good. Next time I get one of these radiator jobs, I think I'll have you work first wrench."
     "Wow! Gee thanks, Virg,"
     "Whataya say we have a beer while we watch the last play of the game?" Virgil suggested, slamming down the hood.
     "All right! I'll get 'em, Virg, I hope you got time to show me some guitar pickin'?"
     "Hey, that's part'a your pay, Billy Boy. Bring your guitar back with you."
     Billy wiped his greasy hands on a clean rag as he hurried to the beat-up, antiquated refrigerator on the other side of the barn. Virgil washed his hands in the filthy sink nearby with some degreaser and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw his own wrinkled face in half the mirror, and, in the other half, Billy all excited as he ran to get the beer and his guitar. As Virgil watched him, he saw a hazy resemblance of himself from years past….
*
     Virgil was the unfortunate result of his childhood milieu. His parents grew up in poverty, had little schooling, and had both done prison time. It was just the way things were for most people who were born under those conditions. Consequently, the seedy people with whom his parents associated infJoenced his youth. He was arrested at twelve for petty theft, served time in a juvenile facility at fourteen, joined a motorcycle gang when he was sixteen, did time for car jacking at eighteen, and finally at twenty was convicted of assault, attempted robbery of a Brink's armored car, and attempted murder--he had shot at, and missed, the Brinks guard during the attempted robbery. All told, Virgil served thirteen years in prison.
     Virgil stood 6'3", never weighed more than 150 pounds, had acne and was self-conscious about his looks. His eyes constantly moved from side to side when he talked to strangers, and he rarely looked anyone in the eyes -- except his friends. He had a jagged knife scar on the left side of his face that he got in prison, and his normal expression was that of defiance. The locals simply described him as "one scary looking Dude."
     He always wore a cowboy hat, a T-shirt -- usually, with a country or rock 'n' roll band's name on it, torn Levis, and boots, and he was the only person in town who wore spurs all the time. Whenever the gentry heard the sound of his spurs behind them, they did their best to move out of his way. His bizarre tattoos appalled the locals. Virgil knew it and often wondered how they would react if they saw the multi-colored butterfly he had tattooed on his mojo. He often fantasized about walking down the main drag with his fly unzipped and his mojo hanging out.
     Virgil was a paradox. The people in town paid full price and then some for auto repairs at his garage. However, he repaired wheelchairs for the elderly and bicycles for the kids free, only charging them for parts at cost. He charged half-price to the physically handicapped, seniors, ex-cons, and the adventurous girls who had heard about his butterfly tattoo and wanted to see it. Although of course, there were conditions for the viewing.
*
     Billy pulled two cans of beer from the refrigerator, picked up his guitar, and hustled back to Virgil. They each zipped open their beer cans, took a gulp, and gave a big "aaah" of satisfaction.
     The commercial segment finished on TV, the sports announcer said dramatically, "Well, the referee just blew his whistle, and the teams are all lined up ready for the last play of the game, with the national championship on the line. Here we go. The ball's snapped. The quarterback hands the ball to the Whiz. The Whiz runs left. He's got blockers in front of him. It looks like he has an opening! No, his interference got knocked down! He reverses his field and is now running back to the right all by himself! The gun just went off! It's do or die for State!"
     "Go, Jesse, go!" Virgil yelled, hopping around. "Go, Jesse, go!"
     "There's only one player between Jesse and the goal line, All-American tackle, Bobby Dupree," shouted the announcer. "It looks like he's gonna tackle Jesse! Holy moly! This is unbelievable! Jesse just dove over Bobby and scored! It's a touchdown! State wins the National Championship! Jesse 'The Whiz' Manners did it! He did it! The crowd is going crazy!"
     Elated, Virgil yelled, "We won, Billy! We're the National Champs! The Whiz did it!" Then he danced hippity-hop, his spurs jiggling as he did. He spun around several times and finally contorted his body like a pretzel. Billy laughed as Virgil continued to gyrate out of control, his long ponytail swinging wildly. Virgil got so excited he forgot he had a cigarette in his mouth and tried to take a swig of beer -- spilling the beer all over the front of his old, torn Steppenwolf T-shirt. Billy laughed harder. Virgil liked to make Billy laugh because he knew Billy never laughed at home. Finally, Virgil settled down, clicked off the TV, and walked over to Billy.
     "Why do they call Jesse Manners, the Whiz?" Billy asked.
     "Because he can run so fast, that's why. Jesse Manners is probably the most famous man in Oklahoma today. And probably will be for a long, long time. Boy, that was really somethin'. Well...let's hear what you practiced on your guitar."
     Billy put down his beer and strummed a few guitar chords slow and precise, but then he played a clinker.
     "Whoa! Wait a minute there, Billy Boy," Virgil exclaimed. Billy stopped playing. Virgil moved one of Billy's fingers to a different position. "If you move your little finger over there it's easier to hit the B7 chord. Now try it." Billy played the chord a few times and Virgil nodded. "That's it. Now play the song from the beginning and see if you can play it all the way through while I sing along." Virgil tapped his foot nice and easy for the tempo -- Billy played; Virgil sang:

          From the cool Atlantic Ocean to the warm Pacific shore
          From the green ol' Ozark Mountains to where the eagles soar
          She's mighty tall and handsome and known quite well by all
          I'm goin' to the station to hop the Wabash Cannonball

          Listen to the jingle, the rumble, and the roar,
          As she glides along the woodland through the hills and by the shore
          Hear the chuggin' of the engine, the lonesome hoboes call,
          You're traveling through the jungles on the Wabash Cannonball
*
     Nearby, Bingham Penitentiary, a medium-security prison, housed men of a non-violent nature -- inmates who had committed less serious crimes, such as minor assaults, small thefts, writing bad checks, and other minor offenses. The inmates in medium-security prisons like Bingham were generally less dangerous than those in maximum-security prisons. However, some dangerous inmates had been transferred to Bingham Penitentiary from maximum-security prisons, as was the procedure, for good behavior.
     Security was rigid at the prison in spite of its medium-security status because, like all prisons where men were crammed close together, there were occasional outbreaks of hostility. Also, there was always the possibility that one of the inmates might escape, although no one had ever escaped from Bingham. However, most everyone in town owned a gun just to be on the safe side.
     Located twenty miles from Oklahoma City, Bingham Penitentiary had been in operation for fifteen years and was a godsend to the town. If it weren't for the prison, most of the inhabitants would have been living below the poverty level. Ironically, because of the prosperity brought about by the prison, there was very little crime in town and what crime there was, was minor. There was virtually no unemployment in town, which contributed enormously to the low crime rate.
     The town Bingham was continually growing, not by leaps and bounds, but a little at a time, which was the way the locals liked it. Actually, the town did its best to keep Bingham a secret. They didn't ballyhoo their good fortune around the state, and kept outside businesses and franchises to a minimum.
     Weekends brought in the out-of-towners. Restaurants, markets, convenience stores, and drugstores all did a brisk business from people who drove from all over the state to visit someone in the prison. Many of the stores in town stayed open only on weekends. Gas stations did more business on Saturday and Sunday than they did all week.
     The town maintained its quaint small-town appearance, but behind the facade was a well-run, organized prison town ready to serve the needs of the prison at a moment's notice. Some men found work as prison guards, and some people had even moved to Bingham because a loved one was incarcerated there.
*
     Billy's cousin, Lonnie, moved to Bingham when he was thirteen years old with his mother-Billy's mother's alcoholic sister whose boyfriend was doing time in Bingham for fraud. Billy and Lonnie hit it off right away and became best friends. Lonnie was into computers, trying to figure out how to get rich and surfing the web for naked women, while Billy was totally engrossed in learning to play the guitar and fixing cars -- (not that he wasn't interested in naked women, too).
     Like Billy, Lonnie was also very mechanical and had already taken his computer apart and, although it had taken him three months, had figured out how to put it back together. However, Lonnie's first love was money. He worked after school and weekends and saved every penny he ever made from the day he came to Bingham.
     The boys looked a lot alike, except Lonnie's hair was as strikingly red as Billy's was blond-although Billy wasn't born blond. With their cute, captivating smiles and great personalities, they looked the picture of clean-cut, all-American boys. They were, in fact, just the opposite. They were both irresistible to girls, and were constantly in girl trouble throughout their teens.
     Billy dropped out of high school after his first year, and went to work full-time for Virgil. However, Lonnie knew the advantages of a good education and stayed in school. Many in town figured that Lonnie would wind up a rich man because of his drive and desire to achieve. On the other hand, there was no doubt in most people's minds that Billy would wind up in Bingham Penitentiary-he had already been arrested for car theft three times. "It's just a matter of time" was the consensus. However, many knew that Virgil had a lot to do with it.
     Over the years, Billy had learned how to smoke cigarettes and marijuana, drink beer, wine, and whiskey, shoot a gun, break into cars and hot-wire the ignition, bypass security alarms, and even how to totally dismantle a car and remove the serial numbers. Virgil showed him every trick of his trade, if you could call it that, and was real proud that his "legacy" would be carried on.
     Virgil knew that Billy loved the guitar more than anything else, and taught Billy everything he knew. In time, Billy learned how to play the guitar better than Virgil. On the other hand, Virgil was blessed with a good singing voice, and although Billy had a pleasant voice, singing wasn't his forte. However, as he got older, Billy began writing songs, and each song he wrote got better and better. Billy wrote the songs; Virgil sang them.
     At seventeen Billy formed a country band with some friends, Clyde White, Booker Parsons, and Sonny Gilbeau. The group got their first gig at the Blackboard CJob and played the Happy Hour from 4:00 to 8:30 p.m. Clyde's father played chaperone and roadie, and transported the band and all the instruments to the gig. Even though they were underage, the boys were allowed in the bar because it also served food and because they were under the supervision of Clyde's father.
     They were well received and got a lot of tips. Buck Bowens, owner of the Blackboard CJob, really wished they could play the night gig because they were actually better than the regular band, but Clyde's father wouldn't go for it-Clyde had a propensity for drinking and his father wanted to be around to make sure Clyde didn't get drunk. Eventually, the group played Happy Hours at different cJobs around town and they became well known. This went on until everyone in the band turned twenty-one, at which time they began playing the regular night gigs. Billy was getting a rep as a real good guitar player and songwriter, but also as a heavy drinker, a womanizer, and a brawler.
     The girls loved him, and he would hit on any girl who struck his fancy, even if she had a boyfriend with her. He wound up in a lot of fights because of this, and got tossed into jail several times. All Billy cared about was going to his gigs, playing guitar, getting drunk, and getting Jocky.

THE PRESENT

     Tall, blond, and handsome, but looking bloated, Billy, and a much older looking Virgil, wiped their hands and slammed down the hood on the last car of the day.
     "You'd better start laying off the beer, Billy. You're really startin' ta look bloated."
     "Don't matter none. The girls still dig me."
Virgil didn't answer. He just looked at Billy and shook his head. They gulped the last swig from their beer cans, and then fJong them into the recycle barrel nearby.
     Virgil took one last drag on his cigarette butt and began coughing. Then he threw the butt down and squashed it mercilessly with his boots. "I've had it with these damn cigarettes," he wheezed in between coughs and gasps. Finally, he stopped coughing and was able to take several breaths. After he was able to breathe somewhat normally, he lit up another cigarette. "You playin' at the 'Back Forty' tonight with Clyde, Booker, and Sonny?"
     "No, we're not playin' tonight. Clyde took sick so we took the weekend off. This is the first weekend we haven't played in some honky tonk in ages."
     "Damn it! I was hopin' I could come down and sing a few tunes with you boys tonight. I wanted to impress this nice lady I been datin'. She just finished two years probation and we wanted to celebrate." Virgil shrugged, took a wad of money out of his pocket, peeled off some bills, and handed them to Billy.      "Here's your pay, Billy. Now stay out'a trouble, will you? I know how you get when you ain't playin'. I don't wanna come and bail ya out'a jail in the middle of the night again."
     Billy gave Virgil his innocent, boyish smile, "I promise I'll be an angel."
     "You'd better be, damn it! You're on probation. One more time may just get you into Bingham Penitentiary. And there ain't no angels there."
     "Don't worry, Virg. Nothin's gonna happen." Billy got into his pickup and gunned his engine; Virgil grimaced. Billy smiled at him, then peeled out, spun a few wheelies, howled like a rodeo rider on top of a Brahma Bull, and screeched away.
     Billy sped down the highway without a care in the world, beeping his horn and waving at friends whose cars he passed, or who were driving on the other side of the road. After a few miles, he turned into a long dirt driveway leading to an old, rundown house. He screeched to a stop in front of the house as clouds of dust billowed high in the air. He got out of his pickup, walked up the crooked, worn front steps, and into the house.
     Billy's mother, with her perpetual expression of discontent, sat in her usual rocking chair, drinking her usual beer, smoking her usual cigarette, and listening to her usual country music on the radio. As usual, her gray hair wasn't combed and her same beer-stained floral dress had a few more cigarette burns in it. Billy bent over to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled away.
     "Got the rent money?"
Billy reached into his pocket and counted out the rent money into her hands. She took the money and stuffed it down the front of her dress.
     "Where's Pa?"
     "Where's Pa? That's a dumb question. He's where he always is: down at 'The Boozarella Bar and Grill' gettin' drunk. You're just like your father. You always ask dumb questions." Suddenly she started coughing uncontrollably.
     "You really ought'a stop smokin', Ma."
     coughing and gagging. Finally, she stopped and guzzled some beer. Billy gave up and went to his room to get ready for Friday night hell-raisin'.
*
     The relationship between Billy's mother, Rosetta Brisco, and his father, Lawrence Tucker, was that of two drunken barflies meeting at the Boozarella Bar and Grill. Neither had any education or intellect to speak of. They were older than most parents when Billy was born -- his father was fifty and his mother was forty-five. Billy was a totally unexpected and unwelcome event in their lives. His father owned the beat-up house in which they lived, which he had inherited from his parents, or he never would have owned one.
     A deal was struck between his mother and father-his mother could live in the house if she took care of it and Billy. She didn't do a very good job with either. Billy had to fight for his place in the world from his first breath. Most people marveled that he wasn't born with a mental or physical defect. However, they suspected that he would definitely have problems when he got older.
     Billy's father, a non-descript, blasé, insensitive man, who never spent much time with Billy, worked at the local Jomberyard until he retired-his one saving grace. Of course, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Occasionally, his parents shared the same bed, depending on how drunk they were. His mother enjoyed being a stay-at-home drunk, and liked working in her garden. Billy's father built a chicken coop and a shed behind the house, where Billy practiced his guitar. In time, Billy could play a good imitation of chickens cJocking and a rooster crowing on his guitar.
     Mrs. Rebecca Fondue, President of the Children's Benevolent Society, who had taken an interest in Billy, gave him a bicycle on his tenth birthday. One day while riding around on his bicycle, Billy got a flat tire in front of Virgil's Garage, and asked Virgil if he could fix it. That was the beginning of the Billy's relationship with Virgil.
*
     Billy stood in front of the mirror admiring himself as he combed his hair and got ready for his wild Friday night. He sipped a beer, and hummed a song he had been working on. Suddenly, he stopped, put down his beer, picked up his guitar, and began playing and singing the new song:
               "I just got confused and got lost in a maze
               Why you so mad - I was only gone three days" --
     Billy shook his head and then played and sang the same part again.
               "I just got confused comin' back this a'way
               Heck, I was only gone a week and a day" --
     Billy thought about the words a few seconds and then sang the whole verse.
               "What's my suitcase doin' outside the front door?
               All I did was go to the liquor store
               I just got confused comin' back this a'way
               Heck, I was only gone a week and a day"
     Billy still wasn't satisfied and kept singing different words. Just when he thought he had found the right words, his mother banged on the door.      
     "Will you take that noise out to the back shed? I'm watching TV and I can't hear what they're saying."
     The knocking startled Billy, who stopped playing and forgot the precious words he had worked so hard to find. Upset, he grabbed his guitar and stomped outside toward the shed next to the chicken coop. To release his frustration, he cJocked loudly at the chickens that scurried around wildly and cJocked back at him.
*
     Later that night at the Handy Dandy All-Night Convenience Store, the cashier, Mary Jo Holiday, Billy's girlfriend, waited on the usual menagerie of horny, wisecracking, Friday night six-packers. Her bubbly personality and sexy outfit kept the pickup truck boys ogling, scheming, and fantasizing.
     On this particular night she wore hip huggers and a sexy lace halter top that showed off her boobs a whole lot-not that they needed any help. The halter also exposed a whole lot of midriff, and a tattoo of a heart with an arrow through it on the small of her back, just over the center of her fanny. She also wore several colorful bracelets, rings, and earrings.
     Mary Jo had a slim, compact body that couldn't have been proportioned any better, and a beautiful complexion that needed little makeup. She also had long, naturally blond hair that hung down to the middle of her back.
     Men constantly hit on her, and she enjoyed the attention. She was an artist at dealing with men, and was never uptight when they gave it their best shot. She knew most everyone that came into the store, and always had a little something to say while she waited on them….
     "Hi Dennis. How's your mom?"
     "She's fine," Dennis replied, subtly checking out her backside as she rang up his two six-packs and a pack of cigarettes.
     "Tell her I said hi."
     "Will do. Ah…I sure do like your tattoo, Mary Jo."
     Mary Jo smiled demurely. "Well, if you really liked it, you'd be lookin' a little higher so you could see it instead of looking at my cute, firm, reserved-for-Billy-Tucker-fanny."
     Dennis and the rest of the young "good ol' boys" standing in line laughed it up.
     "I'm sorry, Mary Jo. It's just that your cute fanny distracted me."
     "Well, I know it's hard, but try to control yourself, Dennis. That'll be $15.20," she said, popping her gum. The customers came and went, and Mary Jo kept wisecracking and popping her gum.
     As usual, the crowd thinned out at about 11:00 p.m., and she had a chance to relax a little before the midnight to 2:00 a.m. madhouse. She looked at the clock, hoping that her friend Tami Bell would show up while there was still a Joll. Tami was like a sister to Mary Jo, and from the time they were kids had always watched out for her. She hadn't seen Tami since she had taken over managing a gym on the other side of town months earlier, although they chatted on the phone a lot. Mary Jo smiled and waved when she saw Tami drive up to the front of the store.
     As her friend entered the convenience store, Mary Jo noticed that she had lost some weight-Tami had hovered around 200 pounds for most of her teens. She was dressed in a short, black dress that was extremely chic, and she had on nylons and stylish high heels. Her long black hair swung from side to side as she walked and she had an air of authority about her. Although they were both twenty-three, Tami looked a bit older and more mature. Mary Jo actually felt somewhat intimidated. The girls embraced and kissed each other on the cheek.
     "It's good to see you, Tami. It's been a while."
     "Sure has."
     "You look great!"
     "Thanks. And you still look as pretty as ever, Mary Jo."
     "Thank you. You look like you've lost weight, Tami."
     "Sure have, and I'm gonna keep losing it. The gym has been a godsend to me."
     "Well, good for you. I'm glad you could come. I really need some moral support."
     "You can't say I didn't warn you."
     "I know, I know."
     "Look, it isn't that I don't like Billy," continued Tami. "He's fun, he's cute, but he's nothing but a grown up kid, a Casanova, and he's usually drunk. He's never gonna change and settle down."
     "Well, he's gonna have to settle down now."
     "You hope."
     "Promise me you won't say nothin' nasty to him, will ya, Tami? I don't want him in a bad mood when I tell him I'm pregnant."
     "Okay, as long as he behaves himself."
     An unexpected rush of customers suddenly entered the store. While Mary Jo waited on them, Tami perused the magazine rack, glancing up at Mary Jo from time to time.
*
     As kids, Mary Jo and Tami had lived on the same block. They shared the same school bus, the same Saturday movies, the same music, Barbie Dolls, and the same issues most young girls deal with growing up. Their parents were all friends and all had attended Bingham High years earlier-their fathers even played on the school football team together.
     Tami's father was vice president of Bingham Bank and Trust and helped Mary Jo's father obtain a loan to buy a house. Their families often got together for dinners, barbecues, and holiday functions.
     In grade school, Tami and Mary Jo did their homework together and both were good students; however, when they entered high school, Mary Jo changed. She began hanging out with the kids who ditched school, smoked, dressed ultra-trendy, and strutted around with their childish attitude of boredom and superiority. Only with Tami's help had Mary Jo managed to get passing grades in her freshman and sophomore years; however, in her senior year Mary Jo decided to quit school.
     Tami and her parents, as well as Mary Jo's own parents, had pleaded with her to finish high school. With tears in her eyes, Mary Jo explained that she hated school and homework, and that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't comprehend what was going on. She said she was sorry and that all she wanted to do was get a job, buy a car and some new clothes, and go out dancing with her friends. Finally, everyone realized it was useless to argue with her. They just told her they would be there if she needed them. That night she celebrated by going out with her friends and getting a tattoo. Tami graduated from high school and moved to Norman where she lived with her aunt while attending college. After she received her AA in Business Management, she returned to Bingham.
     Slim Down, the only gym in town, went bankrupt and reverted to Tami's father's bank. When Tami returned from college, her father insisted that she take over the business. His reason was twofold: for Tami to get business experience at a young age, and for her to hopefully lose weight. Tami welcomed the challenge.
     "Let's Lose Weight Together" was her slogan. She put her picture in newspaper ads to show how overweight she was, and told everyone to watch her lose weight. It was a gamble, but Tami decided that she had had enough of being fat. She hired a weightlifter for the men, and an attractive woman in her forties experienced in leading exercises-she didn't want a beautiful, young girl who might intimidate the older and heavier women. Three months later, the business began to pay for itself, and with vitamins, health food, and exercise even Tami began losing weight.
*
     The convenience store cleared out once more, Tami rejoined Mary Jo at the cashier's counter. "So, do you think Billy will marry you?"
     "Damn right he will!"
     "And what if he doesn't?"
     "I don't know. Maybe I'll ask his cousin Lonnie to marry me."
     you switched from Lonnie to Billy?"
     "Well, I had just started goin' with Lonnie, maybe a week or so, and then he had to leave town for a couple of months. Then along came Billy and he completely overwhelmed me."
     "Didn't you tell Billy you were goin' with his cousin at the time?"
     "Yeah, but I guess I encouraged him. It's always been real hard for me not to have a boyfriend, Tami."
     "You're terrible, Mary Jo!" Tami said, hitting her lightly on one of her arms. "How could you do something like that?"
     "I don't know. It seemed okay to me at the time. Look, Tami, I didn't graduate high school or get two years of college like you did. Let's face it. I was never as smart as you were."
     "I know, but even so, Mary Jo. What did Lonnie say when he came back?"
     "He was real mad at us for a long time. But he's over it now."
     "So, what'cha gonna do if Billy has to leave town for some reason? Call Lonnie?"
     "I don't know. I guess," Mary Jo said with a shrug.
     Tami shook her head in wonder. "By the way, you're not drinking anymore, are you?"
     "Not a drop!"
     "Good. I really worried about you when you told me you were honky tonk'n every night and getting so drunk that you couldn't remember who you wound up sleeping with."
     "Well, those days are gone. I'm a workin' girl now, I got me a steady boyfriend, and I'm gonna have a baby. Now, stop being so serious," Mary Jo said, playfully yanking Tami's hair. Tami yanked Mary Jo's hair, and the girls hit and pushed each other playfully, all the while giggling like schoolgirls.
*
     Sipping a beer, Billy weaved his pickup truck through the deserted downtown business area of Bingham. He wasn't completely loaded, but he was on his way. As he passed Fondue's Music Store, he noticed the new Layla Model Eric Clapton guitar in the front display window, and screeched to a stop. The more he looked, the more he had to have it. He perused the deserted street and, seeing no one, got out of his pickup holding a few tools. He disabled the Impenetrable Devo Jones Burglar Alarm" invented by Devo Jones, the owner of the largest hardware store in town-in twenty seconds. He then picked the front door lock in fifteen seconds, and "borrowed" the guitar, as he rationalized to himself. Then he drove to the convenience store to show Mary Jo his new guitar.
     As he pulled into the parking lot, he didn't see Sheriff Tyler Pickett's police car on the other side of an SUV at the far end. He screeched his pickup to a stop in front of the store, beeped his horn, and waved at Mary Jo and Tami inside.
     Mary Jo and Tami smiled and waved back.
     Good-natured, but no one to mess with, Sheriff Jother Pickett shook his head and looked on in dismay as Billy staggered into the store carrying the guitar.
     "Hey, good-lookin', what'cha got there?" Mary Jo shouted, as Billy entered the store.
     "Got me a new guitar." Billy assumed a rock 'n' roll stance and played a few chords on the guitar. Both Mary Jo and Tami could tell he was drunk.
     "Boy! That's some guitar. Looks like it cost a lot of money," Mary Jo said.
     "Yeah, but I got a fantastic deal on it."
     "Hey, hey, Billy," Tami said.
     Billy squinted his eyes and studied Tami. "Is that you, Tami?"
     "It's me all right, Billy."
     "Hey, hey, Tami. I didn't recognize you at first, dressed up in those fancy clothes and all. Looks like you lost some weight? Yeah, you don't look as fat."
     "Gee thanks, Billy," Tami said with an edge. "I'm glad you noticed that I'm not as fat as I used to be."
     "You're welcome, Tami."
     "You look the same, Billy…drunk."
     Mary Jo grimaced and pulled at Tami's arm.
     "Hey, ease up, Tami," Billy stammered. "It's Friday night. Everybody gets drunk on Friday night, don't they?" He zigzagged over to the fridge, pulled out a six-pack, zigzagged back to the girls, and put his money on the counter.
     Mary Jo rang it up and gave Billy his change. "Thank you, sir."
     "You're entirely welcome, ma'am."
     "Mary Jo's got somethin' important to tell you, Billy," Tami said.
     "Well, let's hear it, baby," Billy said.
     "You just said the magic word, Billy," Mary Jo replied.
     "What magic word is that?"
     "Baby's the word. I'm pregnant. I'm gonna have a baby."
     Taken aback, Billy just stared at Mary Jo.
     "Well, say something before I take the gun from under the counter and shoot you in your you-know-what!"
     "Well, ah...congratulations. Who's the daddy?"
     "You know damn well who! You're the daddy! You sonofabitch!"
     "You sure about that?" Billy asked, teasing Mary Jo with a cutesy smile.
     "Damn sure!" Mary Jo shouted, starting to climb over the counter.
     "So when are you two gettin' married?" Tami asked, holding onto Mary Jo.
     "Well, if I'm the daddy, I guess one kind'a goes with the other, don't it?"
     "Sure does, Billy," Mary Jo snapped.
     "I never thought about being a daddy before. But, you know, I kind'a like the idea. Oh, what the hell. I'll marry you, Mary Jo."
     "Gee, thanks, Billy. You really know how to make a girl feel good."
     "Okay. Will you marry me?" Billy asked, getting down on one knee.
     "Damn right I will. When?"
     "Well now, that's another story." Billy smiled, got up, and swaggered out the door. Tami held on to Mary Jo, who was halfway over the counter, and finally calmed her down as customers began to enter. The store suddenly became crowded and Mary Jo was too busy to talk. Tami walked outside to see what was going on with Billy.
     Outside, Billy stood in the back of his pickup, leaning against the cab for balance, playing his guitar and singing. People gathered on their way to the convenience store. There was no denying Billy could really play the guitar, even though it wasn't amplified. The audience now incJoded Sheriff Pickett.
     "Wrote any new songs lately, Billy?" the sheriff asked.
     "I'm always writin' new songs. You wanna hear my latest, sheriff?"
     "Sure do. What's it called?"
     "It's called 'What's My Suitcase Doin' Outside The Front Door'?"
     "Great title," the lanky sheriff replied.
     "Thanks, sheriff."
     Billy almost fell out of the pickup a few times as he played and sang his new song, but everyone helped keep him from falling out. Everyone laughed at the words and when Billy finished they all applauded, incJoding Tami. She realized that Billy was very talented, but it wouldn't do him any good because of his drinking. It really bothered her because not everyone was blessed with his talent, and she knew he was wasting it. She also knew that Mary Jo was going to have a miserable life married to Billy. If he married her, that is. She wondered if just having the baby without marrying Billy might not be a better option.
     About then, a car drove into the parking lot. A man got out, walked toward the store entrance, glanced at Billy's guitar curiously, stopped, and then walked to a nearby telephone. The man talked on the phone for a bit, hung up, and then walked over to Sheriff Pickett and motioned him aside.
     "Hi, Fondue. What's up?" the sheriff asked.
     "I was on my way home from the Mason's Lodge and thought I'd pick up some ice cream for the kids."
     "So? You want me to follow you home to make sure no one steals it?" the sheriff laughed.
     "Under different circumstances I'd laugh, too. But right now I want to know if you're on duty."
     "Of course I'm on duty. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
     "Well, someone broke in and stole a guitar from my store."
     "I'll get right over there."
     "No need. The man who robbed it is playing it right in front of you."
     "Aw, no, not Billy? Are you sure?"
     "I'm sure, sheriff. It's the only Layla Model Eric Clapton guitar in town."
     "I wondered where he got that new guitar. Damn it, he's on probation! He may have to do some time for this."
     "Yeah, it's too bad. Do what you have to, sheriff."
     The sheriff nodded and walked back over to Billy's pickup. "Okay, everyone, let's break it up, the show's over." The crowd quickly dispersed, some going into the store while others took off. "Okay, Billy, get on down from there." The sheriff helped Billy off the pickup, and then held on to him so he wouldn't fall as they zigzagged toward the police car. He helped Billy into the back seat and then locked the door. Still watching, Tami shook her head and walked back inside the store to tell Mary Jo the bad news.
     "Hey, it's nice of you to drive me home, sheriff. I am kind'a drunk."
     "My pleasure, Billy. How about singing me a song while we drive?"
     "What'cha wanna hear, sheriff?"
     "Play me some of that old 'Wabash Cannonball,' will you, Billy?"
     "You got it, sheriff."
     As they drove, Sheriff Pickett and Billy sang together:

          This train, she runs to Memphis, Mattoon, and Mexico
          She rolls through East St. Louis and she never does it slow
          As she flies through Colorado, she gives an awful squall
          They tell her by the whistle, the Wabash Cannonball

          Now here's to Daddy Claxton, may his name forever stand
          He'll always be remembered, through the courts throughout the land
          His earthly race is over, now the curtain round him falls
          He's on his way to paradise on the Wabash Cannonball
*
     Lonnie visited Billy several times while Billy was in jail, and on Billy's request, visited him the day of his sentencing. Although they had moved in different circles for a few years, on occasion Billy and Lonnie would still hang out, get drunk, and raise a little hell. Desire, drive, saving his money, and getting an education had paid off big time for Lonnie. After graduating Bingham High, and going on to business college for a year in Oklahoma City, he now owned his own thriving enterprise in Bingham-"Lonnie's Peekaboo Adult Book Store." It was the only one in town and he was making money just as he thought he would.
     "I stopped by your folks' house, like you asked, Billy, so's I could drive 'em here, but they said they couldn't make it."
     "Damn! I was hopin' they'd come. Will you tell Ma to look after my room while I'm gone?"
     "I hate to tell you this, Billy, but she put a 'Room For Rent' sign up in front of the house, and put your clothes and guitar in the shed out back next to the chicken coop."
     "What! It gets hot as hell out there! My acoustic guitar's gonna warp! Look, Lonnie, I want you to get it and keep it at your place until I can figure out what to do with it. Okay?"
     "No problem, I'll take care of it. You worried about doin' time at Bingham?"
     "No way. I can do time standing on my head. By the way, how's things goin' at the bookstore?"
     "Pretty good. I'm making a lot of money."
     "I'm happy to hear that because I'd like you to do me a favor."
     "Sure, what's that?"
     "I'd like you to keep an eye on Mary Jo while I'm in the slammer. Help her out if she can't make the rent sometimes, or if she needs a few extra bucks. I told her to call you if she needs anything, okay?"
     "No problem. I'd be glad to help."
     "Thanks. Now, one other thing, I know you used to be Mary Jo's boyfriend before me, but it's different now, ya see...she's gonna have my baby."
     "What? I didn't know she was pregnant! She sure doesn't look it. How far along is she?"
     "Almost three months. So I don't want no hanky-panky while I'm gone."
     "Hey! What kind of a guy do you think I am? We're cousins; we're blood. I'm surprised you'd even think I'd do something like that. Especially, since she's pregnant."
     Billy studied Lonnie and thought about his own indiscretion with Mary Jo when Lonnie was going with her, and wondered.
     "You gotta go, Lonnie," the guard said, walking up to the cell. "Judge Snead is ready for Billy."
     "Well, ol' buddy, you take care," Lonnie said.
     "You, too." Lonnie and Billy embraced and shook hands, and then Lonnie walked back to the courtroom.
     In the courtroom, Mary Jo, Tami, Lonnie, Virgil, and Clyde, Booker, and Sonny, Billy's band members, waved at him as he entered. Billy smiled and waved back. Many people loved him in spite of his wildness and had come to wish him farewell. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that indeed the time had finally come.
     Everyone stood as stubby Judge Robert E. Snead, wearing his usual crooked, red-orange toupee, walked into the courtroom. Once seated, the judge slammed his gavel, looked at Billy, and shook his head. "Billy, I told you the last time you were here that if you came before me one more time, I'd have to send you to Bingham Penitentiary. I really hate to do this for a couple of reasons. First, you're really a nice person, but you just won't grow up! Unfortunately, you'll grow up real fast at Bingham. Second, you're the only mechanic in town who knows how to fix my car."
     "Virgil can fix your car wearin' a blindfold, your Honor."
     "Well, personally, that's how I think he does it."
     The people in the courtroom giggled. Virgil frowned. He had sabotaged the judge's car in various ways when he repaired it--he'd make it run perfectly for a while and then it would either stop or sputter, or start smoking, or the windshield wipers would come on, or the horn would start blowing. Eventually, the judge told Virgil that if he didn't let Billy fix the car, he might get the fire and health department back after him.
     "Ah, yes, Virgil Bilbo," Judge Snead said, eyeing Virgil. "One of our town's most upstanding citizens. Well, I have to admit, in Virgil's defense, he hasn't been in jail for years. How are you doing, Virgil?"
     Virgil grimaced and forced a few nods of his head.
     "Well, Billy, it's time. Do you have anything to say before I pass sentence?"
     "Like I said before, your honor, I just borrowed the guitar. I was gonna return it the next day, honest."
     "Maybe you were, Billy, but unfortunately that isn't the way things are done around here. Anything else you want to say?"
     "No."
     "In that case, weighing the fact that you're still on probation for drunk and disorderly, for the fifth time may I add, with previous arrests for assault and battery, car theft and refusing to stop for the police and then mooning them when you were finally caught, and an assortment of unpaid traffic tickets, oh yes, and urinating on the magnolias in front of City Hall, I sentence you to three years at Bingham Penitentiary. Officer, take him away."
     "Oh, no!" Mary Jo sobbed. "Billy! Billy! I love you!"
     As the guard walked Billy toward the side door, Billy waved at Mary Jo, who was being comforted by Tami. Billy then nodded at Lonnie, Virgil, Clyde, Booker, and Sonny before being led back to his cell by the guard.
*
     Outside the courthouse, a sobbing Mary Jo talked with Tami and Lonnie. Virgil joined them and they all commiserated for a bit before Virgil left.
     "I'm really sorry about Billy, Mary Jo, but you gotta get on with your life," Tami said. "You gotta think about your baby and how you're gonna survive."
     "I don't know if I can handle everything by myself," Mary Jo said.
     "Can't you stay at your parent's house for a while?" Tami asked.
     "I don't know. I've been away from home for five years now. I just can't bring myself to ask them. You know how that is."
     "I wish there was a way you could stay with me, but there's just not enough room in my studio apartment," Tami said. "But you know you can always count on me for any help you need. And I'm sure Lonnie will help out, too. Won't you, Lonnie?"
     "I sure will. Billy told me to keep an eye on you, Mary Jo, and I plan to do just that. Now let me drive you home so you can get some rest."
     "I'd appreciate that, Lonnie," Tami said. "I have to get back to the gym. Call me if you need anything, Mary Jo." The two girls embraced, and then Tami left.
*
     Lonnie drove Mary Jo home. When they arrived at Mary Jo's house, she invited him inside.
     "Thanks for drivin' me home, Lonnie. Could you stay a while? I sure could use some company."
     "Sure, I got a little time before I have to get back to the store."
     "Would you like a beer?"
     "Sure."
     While Mary Jo went to get the beer, Lonnie walked over to a picture of her and Billy on an end table. As he picked it up Mary Jo walked back into the room. He put the picture down as she handed him a beer.
     "That picture of us was taken in happier times. I just don't know how I'm gonna make it now that he's gone." Mary Jo sobbed, fresh tears filling her eyes.
     "Now, now, Mary Jo. Don't worry about anything. You're gonna be okay. I'll be here to help."
     "Thanks, Lonnie. How do you think Billy's doin'?"
     "Don't worry about Billy, I'm sure he's doin' just fine."
*
     A wide-eyed Billy stood against the wall in the prison mess hall dodging metal dishes and other flying objects as a small group of vegetarian activist inmates voiced their displeasure over the fact that vegetables weren't served for breakfast. While the guards rushed in to break up the fracas, Billy maneuvered himself outside to the prison yard. Suddenly, he felt very depressed and lonely-he had not anticipated feeling that way. He walked to the chain link fence that surrounded the prison, looked up at the rolls of barbed wire coiled across the top of the fence, and stared out like an animal in a cage looking for a way out.
     He watched as a prison guard drove up to the main gate on his way to work, his car radio blasting country music. Billy knew the song that was playing and sang along as he strummed an invisible guitar. How he wished he was playing a gig in some honky tonk, or getting drunk with Mary Jo, or without her, or back at Virgil's working on a car and drinking a beer.
     A little later, as Billy walked back through the yard, he noticed a small group of men slyly edging toward another small group of men walking in front of him. Suddenly the approaching men attacked the other group, and Billy found himself in the middle of the two rival factions. He held up and waved his hands trying to express that he was neutral. Unfortunately, one of the attackers socked him on the jaw, knocking him to the ground.
     Billy, who could take care of himself, having been in the middle of many brawls while playing the honky tonk circuit, wanted to go after the man who had hit him. However, he recalled some advice Virgil had given him, and thought better of it. He didn't want to appear for or against any faction until he knew which side he wanted, and possibly "needed," to be on or associated with. Jockily, he managed to slip away when the guards arrived to quell the fight. That night, unable to sleep because of his sore jaw, fun loving, free-spirited Billy realized that prison life wasn't going to be a "snap" as he had told Lonnie.
     As the days passed, Billy recognized a few inmates who had come to see him play at cJobs around Bingham, and he began hanging out with them during recreation time. None of them were hardened criminals; most were in for non-violent crimes and were pretty nice guys. Some of them worked out and Billy decided to join those who did. He didn't get into heavy bodybuilding; he just did a light workout every day. Slowly, he learned to deal with the harsh reality of survival behind bars, but periods of depression still remained, especially since he worked in the kitchen as a cleanup man, which he hated. He asked to be transferred to the automotive shop, but was told he'd have to wait until there was an opening.
*
     Rugged-looking Jesse "The Whiz" Manners, now thirty-five and still one of the state's most notable and recognizable celebrities-although it had been fifteen years since he scored that unforgettable winning touchdown-drove his car into his parking space in front of the Juvenile Justice Building in Oklahoma City. Inside, he walked toward his office as Juvenile Justice Administrator for Oklahoma City amid greetings of, "Good morning, Jesse," and "Hi, Jesse." Everyone called him Jesse: little kids, old people, women, and even anyone new who met him. Jesse wasn't a formal type of person and he liked it that way; he often said that anyone who called him Mr. Manners was usually the bearer of bad news.
     Jesse stood 6'2", had sharp features, a bronze complexion, and straight, jet-black hair. His parents had told him he was of French, English and Irish ancestry, and that his great-grandfather was a full-blooded Cherokee.
     Jesse had a good early upbringing, but both his parents were tragically killed in a car accident when he was only eight years old. Since there were no other relatives he could live with, he was put into the system and raised by foster parents. He was big for his age, and in his early teens began hanging out with older boys. Jesse was very trusting, perhaps too much so, and the group he hung out with got him into serious trouble with the police.
     He was then placed into a foster home that was monitored and counseled by voJonteer police officers who encouraged physical activity and sports. Jesse liked sports and pursued track and football with police encouragement and direction. He became a star athlete in high school and received a football scholarship to State, where he became an all-American, helped win a national championship, and married the homecoming queen, Bonnie Parker.
     Jesse had maintained his athletic physique with a short daily workout. However, his running days were a thing of the past. Ten years earlier, a car driven by a teenager fleeing the scene of a crime, smashed into Jesse's car. Jesse had to have pins inserted in his left leg, which left him unable to run and ended his five-year pro football career. Fans, and most of the people in the state, were outraged that a youthful criminal had put an end to Jesse's glowing career. Ironically, the accident had been the catalyst behind Jesse becoming involved with juvenile crime....

*
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Order Book - www.Amazon.com

"THE BINGHAM PENITENTIARY
ALL-STAR COUNTRY BAND"
ISBN: 1-9763267-0-1
*
Lawrence Tower
Hollywood Tower Publications
hollywoodtower@earthlink.net