Ole Billy
By Myrtle Poor (c)
The June bug flew around and around at of the end of the string attached to its leg and held in my hand. I was deep in thought as I sit day dreaming about far off places the June bug was taking me to, on its journey. After all what else has an eight year child have to do, but day dream?
"Sissy," my daddy yelled at me. "Have you cleaned out that car yet? I have to go to work early today."
"No Daddy I haven't," I yelled back.
"Well get up and do it now. I mean it girl I am not going to tell you again. You promised me you would clean it if I gave you and Don the change you find under the seat," was his reply.
The car in question was a yellow checkered taxi cab. We lived in El Paso,Texas at the time and dad drove a taxi on the army post at Ft Bliss. The solders would be drinking and a lot of them would lose change from their pockets when they rode in the cab. Sometimes they would leave other things in the cab also. My dad had told my younger brother and I if we would clean the trash out of the cab everyday we could keep the booty that we found there, all except the liquor we found slipped between the seats and the outside wall of the car. If we found any of that we were under orders to pour it out and throw the bottles away.
We had a pet goat name Ole Billy that we had raised from a baby. His mother had died as she gave birth to him so we even has to feed him with a baby bottle. My dad just hated him and with Billy there wasn't any love lost where my dad was concerned either.
Everytime my dad would get close to Ole Billy he would whack him on the hip or side and yell at him to get out of his way. Well Ole Billy would move, but he would back up and hang his head down and snort and paw the ground as if telling my dad he better watch his Ps and Qs for someday he was going to get even with him. Evidently dad didn't believe him for he just kept on tormenting Billy ever chance he got.
When we cleaned the car we had to wipe the seats with a disinfectant mixed with water. it wasn't an easy job, but it wasn't beyond our capability either.
As we were cleaning it that day we found a half full bottle of whisky. The lid was missing so I set it down beside the tree where I had been setting only minutes before with the June bug. We went back to cleaning the car and found a dollar or so in chance. We were so excited that we had found that much change and was engrossed in talking about it that I hadn't noticed Billy coming up beside the car.
"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle", The sound was coming from Billy.
The sound finally penetrated my foggy mind and I turned and saw Billy as he was swallowing the last dregs from the whisky bottle. The alcohol hit him almost at once.
His legs became weak and wobbly, like a new born colt. He would fall down, then try to get up. His legs would get tangled around each other and he would go down again. He would stand up then fall to his knees and he would let out such a mighty snort each time he went down that you wouldn't believe it. There is no way that I can explain it. Finally he was able to stand by leaning against the big tree. He would shake his head and snort. He did this over and over. My brother and I was laughing so hard tears were running down our cheeks.
Dad had heard me and Don laughing so hard that he came out to see what was going on. Not knowing what was going on he came out the kitchen door to check on us. He stepped on his untied shoestring and bent over to tie it .
Ole Billy finally registering what my dad was doing made a bee line for him. Some how he had renewed his strength while he was leaning against the tree. He made a lunge at him and his head hit dad dead center of his behind. Dad had tied his shoe and had started to raise up, so Billy caught him just right. My dad went flying through the air and flipped head over heels twice. I don't know which was the maddest at the time. Dad was snorting and raving, trying to get up off the ground.
Ole Billy had backed up and once again was slinging his head from side to side and pawing the ground like a mad bull. Before dad could get up Billy hit and flipped him again. Then Billy fell on his side and was out like a light. He was drunker than a skunk.
I went to dad and offered to help him up, but he pushed me away and said gruffly, "leave me alone and I guarantee you Sissssssy Girl this time tomorrow that goat will be dead," he hissed at me.
The next night at the supper table we had meat on the table that look suspiciously like Ole Billy. Needless to say my brother nor I didn't eat any dinner. We Got up from the table and ran out sobbing
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