House of the Rising Sun (Hackberry Holland 4)

“Ride your broom out of here,” he said.

After she left, he thought better of his words and tried to catch her and apologize, but she was gone.

“Why did you talk to her like that?” Ruby said.

“She said I was a Judas unto my children.”

“Why would she say a thing like that?”

“How would I know? She’s a crazy woman.”

“Somebody is in a bad mood,” Ruby said.

Four years later, he sued his estranged wife, Maggie Bassett, for divorce on grounds of infidelity. Not her infidelity. His. The inside of the courtroom smelled of cigars and unemptied cuspidors. The judge wore a gray-streaked black chin beard and had a large, deeply pitted, veined nose on which his spectacles perched like magnifying glasses on an owl. Hackberry could not stop staring at the strange optical effect created by the magnification. The judge’s eyes reminded Hackberry of giant bugs trying to swim underwater.

“In the state of Texas, you cannot petition the court for the dissolution of your marriage because you, the plaintiff, have committed adultery,” the judge said.

“I was trying to be gentlemanly,” Hackberry said. “Discussion about marital congress is not something I normally engage in.”

“Would you address the court in formal fashion, please?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The point is you cannot sue yourself. Is that too difficult to understand?”

Hackberry gazed out the window as though perplexed, unsure of the right answer.

“You’ve submitted a list of your infidelities,” the judge said, his finger pinched on a sheet of paper in his hand. “I cain’t believe you’ve gotten this mess on the docket. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Can I change the nature of my suit?”

“Can you what?”

Hackberry looked across the room at Maggie Bassett and her male companion, who had a shock of white hair like John Brown’s in a windstorm, and a profile that matched, snipped out of tin, his eyes lead-colored. He wore button shoes and a bloodred silk vest and a tall collar and a black rain slicker he hadn’t bothered to remove, glazed with sleet melting on the floor.

“By change my suit, I mean I would like to request a divorce from Maggie Bassett, also known as Maggie Holland, on the basis of the adultery she committed by sleeping with me,” Hackberry said.

“Are you still a Texas Ranger, Mr. Holland?”

“When I’m not on leave and marshaling at the county seat.”

“Then why don’t you act like one? And stop addressing the court as though you’re in a saloon.”

“There is evidence that I was married to another woman, if not two, when I met Maggie Bassett, Your Honor. She was knowledgeable about both. That means she made a conscious decision to commit adultery as well as participate in bigamy. By anybody’s measure, that’s moral turpitude.”

“The simple fact is she doesn’t want to grant you a divorce,” the judge said. “Nor does the court see any reason to grant you one. That said, I cannot for the life of me understand why a sane woman would want to keep a man like you around.”

“It could be she wants my ranch and anything else of mine she can get her hands on.”

“Mr. Holland, I’m not going to warn you again about your obvious disrespect for the court and this proceeding.”

“I think it very likely that Maggie Bassett wants my assets, Your Honor. Her greedy nature and her addiction to laudanum seem to go hand in hand, although I’m not an expert in these matters.

”

“You’re telling me your wife is addicted to opiates?”

“I’m just saying her marital habits are a bit unusual. I’m sorry, I meant to add ‘Your Honor.’ I’ll start over. Your Honor—”