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Authors: Castle Freeman
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D.B.
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop. “He’s right. Con’s right. You would have Wingate knocking on your door, protecting your fifteen-year-old kid’s God-given right to go around like a hooker. The law is on her side.”
“Wingate wouldn’t knock on your door,” said Whizzer. “Not really. He’d find some way to work things out. Sit down, talk things over. He’d try, anyway.”
“Wingate likes to talk,” said Coop. “I’ll give you that. He just don’t like to do. Like with Blackway, there.”
“I thought Wingate sacked Blackway,” said Conrad.
“He did,” said Whizzer. “Fired his ass. What are you talking about?” he asked Coop.
“What’s-her-name,” said Coop. “Lillian. I’m talking about her. She went to Wingate. Before she came here. She just told you. Wingate told her there’s nothing he can do. He gave her the law.”
“That’s his job,” said Whizzer.
“She went to him for help, and he gave her the law,” said Coop. “That don’t do her a lot of good with Blackway, does it? Blackway don’t care about the law. He just does what he wants. He just goes for it.”
“Wingate’s the sheriff,” said Whizzer.“What do you want him to do, saddle up and go out after Blackway on his own because of what some girl says? You know he can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Coop said. “Why can’t he — if he knows what she says is true? And he does. Everybody knows it. Everybody knows Blackway. How he does. What he is.”
“Wingate can’t do that,” said Whizzer.
“Why can’t he?” Coop demanded. “Face it, Whiz: Wingate’s no ball of fire. He’s all right for what he has to do, mostly. Serving papers and writing up speeding tickets? Sure. He’s a plugger. But face it: He ain’t the sharpest guy that ever came along.”
“Not like Blackway, you mean?” asked Conrad.
“Not like Blackway,” said Coop. “Do I mean Blackway’s sharp? Smart? Well, I don’t know. He’s smarter than Wingate, anyway. Ain’t he? Wingate just goes along, picking them up and putting them down. Blackway? Look, Blackway sees something he wants, he takes it. If you don’t like that and you think you can take it back, you’re welcome to try. That’s all. With Blackway, law don’t really come into it, much.”
“Blackway’s kind of beyond the law, I guess,” said Conrad.
“There you go,” said Coop. “Wingate?” he went on, “Wingate’s strictly by-the-book. All right, he has to be. But I’ll say it again: Wingate ain’t the brightest guy in the world. He goes by the book because he don’t have what it takes to do different. The — what would you call it? To do different. Ain’t that brains?”
“That’s imagination,” said Conrad.
“There you go,” said Coop. “He ain’t got the imagination.”
“Wingate’s got a job to do,” said Whizzer.“He’s an officer of the law. He don’t get paid to imagine.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“That ain’t being stupid, though,” said Whizzer.
“Ain’t it?” Coop demanded. “Ain’t it? Look, you take that thing where Wingate fired Blackway. Okay, Blackway busts some kid and takes his dope and sells it. So what? Who’s hurt?”
“It’s against the law,” said Whizzer.
“So what if it is?” said Coop. “So what? What difference does it make? Somebody else smokes that particular bunch of dope, that’s all. You think the law, you think Wingate, can make any difference to that? You know he can’t. People want dope, or anything else, they’ll find a way to get it.”
“Blackway’s glad to help them,” said D.B.
“He’s a benefactor,” said Conrad.
“I didn’t say that,” said Coop.
“Didn’t you?” said D.B. “I thought you did.”
“We’ve got two different arguments going here, don’t we?” asked Conrad.
“At least,” said Whizzer.
“I make it three,” said D.B.
“I ain’t arguing nothing,” said Coop. “I only said Wingate’s a plugger
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop. “He’s right. Con’s right. You would have Wingate knocking on your door, protecting your fifteen-year-old kid’s God-given right to go around like a hooker. The law is on her side.”
“Wingate wouldn’t knock on your door,” said Whizzer. “Not really. He’d find some way to work things out. Sit down, talk things over. He’d try, anyway.”
“Wingate likes to talk,” said Coop. “I’ll give you that. He just don’t like to do. Like with Blackway, there.”
“I thought Wingate sacked Blackway,” said Conrad.
“He did,” said Whizzer. “Fired his ass. What are you talking about?” he asked Coop.
“What’s-her-name,” said Coop. “Lillian. I’m talking about her. She went to Wingate. Before she came here. She just told you. Wingate told her there’s nothing he can do. He gave her the law.”
“That’s his job,” said Whizzer.
“She went to him for help, and he gave her the law,” said Coop. “That don’t do her a lot of good with Blackway, does it? Blackway don’t care about the law. He just does what he wants. He just goes for it.”
“Wingate’s the sheriff,” said Whizzer.“What do you want him to do, saddle up and go out after Blackway on his own because of what some girl says? You know he can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Coop said. “Why can’t he — if he knows what she says is true? And he does. Everybody knows it. Everybody knows Blackway. How he does. What he is.”
“Wingate can’t do that,” said Whizzer.
“Why can’t he?” Coop demanded. “Face it, Whiz: Wingate’s no ball of fire. He’s all right for what he has to do, mostly. Serving papers and writing up speeding tickets? Sure. He’s a plugger. But face it: He ain’t the sharpest guy that ever came along.”
“Not like Blackway, you mean?” asked Conrad.
“Not like Blackway,” said Coop. “Do I mean Blackway’s sharp? Smart? Well, I don’t know. He’s smarter than Wingate, anyway. Ain’t he? Wingate just goes along, picking them up and putting them down. Blackway? Look, Blackway sees something he wants, he takes it. If you don’t like that and you think you can take it back, you’re welcome to try. That’s all. With Blackway, law don’t really come into it, much.”
“Blackway’s kind of beyond the law, I guess,” said Conrad.
“There you go,” said Coop. “Wingate?” he went on, “Wingate’s strictly by-the-book. All right, he has to be. But I’ll say it again: Wingate ain’t the brightest guy in the world. He goes by the book because he don’t have what it takes to do different. The — what would you call it? To do different. Ain’t that brains?”
“That’s imagination,” said Conrad.
“There you go,” said Coop. “He ain’t got the imagination.”
“Wingate’s got a job to do,” said Whizzer.“He’s an officer of the law. He don’t get paid to imagine.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“That ain’t being stupid, though,” said Whizzer.
“Ain’t it?” Coop demanded. “Ain’t it? Look, you take that thing where Wingate fired Blackway. Okay, Blackway busts some kid and takes his dope and sells it. So what? Who’s hurt?”
“It’s against the law,” said Whizzer.
“So what if it is?” said Coop. “So what? What difference does it make? Somebody else smokes that particular bunch of dope, that’s all. You think the law, you think Wingate, can make any difference to that? You know he can’t. People want dope, or anything else, they’ll find a way to get it.”
“Blackway’s glad to help them,” said D.B.
“He’s a benefactor,” said Conrad.
“I didn’t say that,” said Coop.
“Didn’t you?” said D.B. “I thought you did.”
“We’ve got two different arguments going here, don’t we?” asked Conrad.
“At least,” said Whizzer.
“I make it three,” said D.B.
“I ain’t arguing nothing,” said Coop. “I only said Wingate’s a plugger
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