The Devil's Dream (29 page)

“Come on, cowboy,” he said. “Time for bed.”

“I ain't a cowboy,” Buddy Junior said, riding high on Buddy's shoulder, “I'm a knight.”

“Time for bed anyway,” Buddy said, carting him off.

Tammy said good-bye then and left, and as I put Sugar to bed, a great thankfulness came up in me, for until that moment I did not really understand how much I'd feared that Rose Annie's leaving would
destroy
Buddy. But now Buddy had
given her up
, just like that, and it would be the saving of him. For whenever Buddy does something, he does it all the way, he puts everything he's got into it. And when he gave her up, he
gave her up
—just like when he was a boy and he worked so hard raising that little goat for the 4-H competition, but when she lost, he never said another word about it, and took just as good care of her as he had before the contest.

He can
adjust
, Buddy can. This is the most necessary ingredient for a happy life, I read it in
Reader's Digest
.

And now he's downright happy, even if he's gained until he's close to being as big as Tammy. They're big as a house, the two of them put together, and happy? They're happy. You bet.

I can't say the same about the King and Queen of Country Music, however. Oh, they're rich all right. After the first album went gold, the second one zoomed right on up the charts the minute it was released. That's the
Two Hearts
album, with them on the cover in that big red heart, I think it's tacky myself. Look at Rose Annie with her bosoms hanging out. Obviously she's wearing one of them push-up bras. Anyway, this is the album which Johnny's song “If Drinkin' Don't Kill Me, Your Memory Will” came off of, and of course they all said it was written while he thought Rose Annie was dead, and made a big thing out of it. People are just so curious. They love to gossip, they love to learn the private lives of the stars. This drives Buddy crazy, all the publicity about Rose Annie, but I understand it. It's purely natural, I say. People don't mean any harm.

Still yet, Buddy would not let Buddy Junior and Sugar go to the wedding, which took place at Johnny's agent's house in Nashville, outside in the garden, next to the kidney-shaped pool. See, here it is. Look at those matching white cowboy wedding suits with the sequin fringe. Johnny and Rose Annie had their picture in every newspaper in the country, wearing those suits, and she wore a rhinestone tiara. This is when everybody started calling them the King and Queen of Country Music.

The only people from the family that went were Virgie, naturally, trying to get some of that publicity for her own self, and Little Virginia. Little Virginia snuck off and gone over there, and R.C. got so mad at her when he found it out, he liked to kicked her right out of his house. As if he could even
function
by himself, hateful and old as he is! R.C. ought to thank his lucky stars every day that Little Virginia is willing to put up with him, and run that house, and cook for him. They say he won't eat a thing but ham biscuits. Anyway, none of the boys went, not even Bill, who always appeared to have such a soft spot for Rose Annie. They stuck right by their daddy, to a man.

I really thought that Buddy ought to have let Sugar and Buddy Junior go to the wedding, I really did. I still think he made a mistake. For it is something that they would have remembered all their lives. It is history.

Rose Annie called up on the phone and cried, begging Buddy to send them. But he stood firm. I told Buddy that I would have been glad to go over to Nashville with the children, and I would, too. I would have taken them to the wedding. I wouldn't have minded a bit to be there. I told Buddy this. But nothing doing. He and Tammy took the kids to Rock City for the weekend, and that was that, leaving me here to read about it in the news. See, look here at the stars that was present—Eddy Arnold, Ferlin Husky, Porter Wagoner—why, I think it was practically criminal not to let Sugar and Buddy Junior go, they would have had little white suits of their own and been in the ceremony, and then they would be in these pictures, too. It is a part of their heritage which has been denied them, the way I see it. Of course, I never have said this to Buddy, not in so many words.

And Buddy
has
softened up some. Last summer, after Rose Annie begged and begged, he let me take the children over there for a visit. Pancake drove us, and then disappeared the whole time we were there, only showing up in time to drive us back home. He
said
he was going to be staying at the Holiday Inn, but I don't know where he was. When I'd call over there, he was never in his room, not even real late at night. But naturally I didn't mention this to his wife, Loney, after we got back. The closer you get to the Baileys, the worse they look. I have learned this over the years.

There is not a one of them that is normal.

Well, Rose Annie and Johnny had just moved into their new house on Old Hickory Lake, and there was workmen all over the place finishing up. They were putting that famous wrought-iron gate up while we were there, in fact, the one with the notes from the first line of “Five-Card Stud” on it. It's been photographed a million times since—see here? and here? Anyway, the house was perfectly beautiful, I have to admit it, even to one like myself that is not really a fan of modern architecture.

The whole back of it was glass, looking out on the pool, with the lake beyond. All the living room furniture was blue velvet, blue being Rose Annie's favorite color, and I must say I enjoyed sitting there on that long blue velvet sofa looking out at the pool and the lake and the mountains beyond, and thinking about all the other stars that live around Old Hickory Lake, too, wondering what
they
were doing right then! You couldn't keep Sugar and Buddy Junior out of the pool, they were just crazy about it. And Rose Annie was with them every minute, you could tell how glad she was to see them.

She had bought them some little ponies, as a surprise—Sugar's pony was named Miss Pat and Buddy Junior's was Charley—and cowboy boots for riding. You should have seen Sugar's eyes light up when she first saw Miss Pat! Sugar has read every horse book in the library, I reckon. She's always been wild about horses, like a lot of little girls are. Rose Annie even had a boy down at the stable hired to teach them how to ride, and stay right by them, and Rose Annie herself stayed down there, too, watching them. It was like she couldn't get enough of watching them. I got tired of it myself, and went back up to the house and sat down on that blue sofa and got the Filipino boy, Ramon, to bring me a 7-Up. I wouldn't have minded bringing Ramon back home with me, I'll tell you! Anything you wanted, he couldn't get it fast enough. I was enjoying myself.

I knew Buddy wouldn't like it about the ponies, he would say that Rose Annie was trying to buy their love. This is what he said whenever she sent them presents, too, even those sweaters from Scotland. He made Tammy put them all in the basement to give to the Kiwanis gift drive at Christmas. So Sugar and Buddy never saw their gifts, and Rose Annie never inquired about them. She didn't inquire even when we were over in Nashville visiting; it was almost like she didn't want to know.

Well, as I sat there watching Ramon bow himself backward out of the room, I made a decision. I decided
not to tell
Buddy about the ponies. People don't need to know everything. I would tell the children that the ponies were a secret between them and me, and that way they could ride them whenever Buddy let them go visit again. So this is what I did.

And as for Rose Annie, that visit was an eye-opener for me. I went over to Tennessee prepared to hate her, but I couldn't hate her any more than I could when she was married to Buddy and laying in the bed. I thought she would be
changed
, I guess, since she had become the Queen of Country Music and all, but the only thing changed about her was the size of her bosom on that album cover. In the flesh, she was the same Rose Annie as always, with something about her that made you want to hug her and tell her it would be all right. She looked young as ever, and pretty as ever in a frail kind of way, like a wildflower.

This is what came to me that day as I watched her walking up from the stables with a child on each hand—
like a wildflower
. I don't know why I thought that, but you know how wildflowers are—they die if you try to transplant them or bring them inside. Her hair was still as pale and flyaway as dandelion fluff, and the color still came and went in her cheeks. Her eyes were that cornflower blue—oh, it was not possible to stay mad at Rose Annie!

We stayed in Nashville for four days, and on the second night she took us to the Grand Ole Opry, where we actually got to go backstage and meet Hank Snow who I have always admired so much, and Little Jimmy Dickens, he is not but four-eleven foot tall, and Kitty Wells and her husband. The biggest thrill of the whole night was when Kitty sang “It Wasn't God Who Made Honky-tonk Angels”; you never heard so much applause. I was proud to be there. Minnie Pearl was on the Opry that night, too, and I was so surprised to learn that in real life she is from a fancy family, and not from up a holler someplace. Her real name is Mrs. Sarah Ophelia Colley Cannon, and she is rich, can you believe it? Another time, we saw Webb Pierce in the street! Out of the car window! Walking down Broadway big as life! When we saw him, Rose Annie got so tickled at me because I'd been saying, “Now is
he
a star? or
him
? or
her
?” Looking for stars, you know. So when we really saw Webb Pierce, I liked to died.

Anyway, Rose Annie kept us so busy, showing us Nashville, that it was the third day before it really hit me—why, where was Johnny?

“He's on tour right now,” Rose Annie answered, but the color came up in her cheeks and I thought to myself,
There is more here than meets the eye
.

But then what I thought was, she and Johnny had decided that for this first visit, it might be better for the children if he wasn't around; that way the children could get used to their mamma again, and
then
him. So I thought they had planned it that way out of decency. But it would not have bothered
me
a bit to see him, and I said as much to Rose Annie. I told her flat out that I and the children would sure love to meet him, and mentioned that I had promised the women in my Circle to get his autograph if I had a chance.

“Well, next time, for sure,” Rose Annie said, smiling at me. “He's in, let's see, Tulsa right now.”

But this turned out not to be true, as the phone started ringing off the hook later that afternoon, people looking for Johnny. He had
not
showed up in Tulsa yet, even though the show was not but about four hours away and his band had already run a sound check. Oh, I heard it all. Did Rose Annie have any idea where he might be? No, she did not, but she had to talk to the boys in the band and the people that were booking the concert, and I don't know who all. Then their manager, Billy Bodine, and two other men came out to the house and went in the office with Rose Annie and stayed for over an hour.

Meanwhile the sun was shining and the children were splashing in the pool with the boy from the stables up there watching out for them, and a snooty decorator out from town was measuring for drapes in the dining room, and workmen were finishing up the mirror walls in the foyer and putting the wrought-iron clef note on the gate.

I had not seen so much activity in the whole rest of my life up to that point, I'll tell you. I was about to wet my pants from all the excitement, but when the men left and Rose Annie came back into the living room, she seemed real calm, considering.

“Oh, there must have been some kind of a mix-up,” she said. “Billy will get it all straightened out.” Then she said she wanted us to eat early so she could take the children into town to this special old-fashioned soda parlor for ice cream, since it was their last night with her, and she knew they'd need plenty of rest for the trip home.

Rose Annie was trying to act like nothing at all was wrong about Johnny being missing, so I didn't say a word. We ate some kind of delicious chicken cooked by Ramon, with almonds in it, and then Rose Annie put the kids in her Cadillac and headed off for town. See, this is a picture of her and them in the soda parlor that night, it's just made to look like olden times.

Anyway, that left me there alone to pack and try to get Pancake on the phone, which I could not do. I just hoped and prayed he'd show up the next morning, when he said he would.

After I finished packing my clothes and the children's, I got to feeling sorry for the ladies in my Circle because I couldn't bring Johnny's autograph back to them. So I got up and went into Rose Annie and Johnny's bedroom—the master suite—to see if I might find some little souvenir. I couldn't get over the bed, kingsize, but with a canopy—you know it had to be built special. It was
Gone With the Wind
all the way. Blue satin sheets and floor-length mirrors everyplace, double mahogany dressers and gold brocade drapes, even gold fixtures in the bathroom, and blue towels with gold monograms. She had about a million pictures of Buddy Junior and Sugar on her dresser and her vanity, plus a beautiful huge color picture of Johnny which he had signed “I have allways loved you my Darling.” Both Johnny and Rose Annie had a cedar closet as big as my own bedroom to keep all their clothes in. Johnny had at least twelve of those black cowboy suits he always wears, with different kinds of silver and sequin designs on them. Some of them had silver and turquoise designs, I bet they are priceless. Johnny's closet was real messy, though, compared to Rose Annie's. The whole floor was covered with piles of stuff, so I picked up a souvenir or two for my Circle girlfriends, just some things it was clear he would never miss, a little cigarette lighter shaped like a gun, a string tie—he had a million string ties!—some belt buckles, etc. Then I packed those and went in the kitchen and told Ramon I would like some kind of a sweet little after-dinner drink to settle my nerves. Tía María, I think it was. I sat out by the pool and sipped it, watching the lights come on one by one all around Old Hickory Lake.