Part 21 (1/2)

Squads left! Squads right!

Farmers, farmers, we're all right!

Load, ready, aim, fire, BOOM!

Reload!

Nadine had recoiled in fright when Billy Bob began his yell.

'Wow,' she now said. 'That's really scary.'

'It is for Longhorns,' Billy Bob said with a big grin.

A&M boasted a proud agricultural and military tradition, although the A and the M originally stood for 'Agricultural' and 'Mechanical,' and the students were initially called 'Farmers,' but later became 'Aggies,' a common nickname for students at Ag schools. The downside is that the nickname encouraged UT Longhorn students to make up jokes mocking Aggies as dumb farmers, such as: How do Aggies practice safe s.e.x?

They get rid of all the animals that kick.

'Anyway,' Billy Bob said, 'I got a degree in petroleum engineering, minor in international politics, which is d.a.m.n near required knowledge to play the oil and gas game today. Not like back in the day, when the Texas Railroad Commission controlled the price of oil in the world, before OPEC came on the scene. Before my time, but old-timers tell me the oil and gas business was really fun back then. How 'bout some coffee and donuts?'

'No, thank-'

'What kind of donuts?' Nadine asked.

'Honeywell, we got chocolate donuts and glazed donuts and sprinkled donuts and creme-filled donuts and just about every kind of donut they make. You like donuts?'

'I love donuts.'

'Me, too. Come on back, we'll get you sugared up ... sugar.'

Billy Bob abruptly turned away and sneezed-Nadine used the opportunity to make a gagging gesture with her finger at her mouth-then he blew his nose into a white handkerchief.

'd.a.m.n head cold.'

They followed him down a hallway; he jabbed a thumb behind them.

'Receptionist, she's more an Earl than an Earlene, but she can double as my bodyguard in a pinch.'

'You need a bodyguard in Marfa?' Book asked.

'Never know, all these artists and environmentalists.'

Nadine pulled out her hand sanitizer and offered Book a squirt; he was about to decline when Billy Bob sniffled and then wiped his hand across his nose again. Book stuck an open palm out to her; she gave him a good squirt. He rubbed the gel into his hands as they followed Billy Bob into a lunchroom. On a table sat a platter of donut paradise. Nadine's eyes sparkled.

'Oh, boy.'

She squirted sanitizer into her hand and rubbed quickly while she studied the donuts. Billy Bob grabbed a ma.s.sive donut with colorful sprinkles on top; his belly testified to a serious donut habit. He waved a hand at the platter of sugar.

'Take what you want, Honeywell.'

She did. A big chocolate-covered donut.

'Can I have coffee, too?'

'Help yourself.'

She did. A tall Styrofoam cup of caffeine.

'Read in the paper you were in town, Professor,' Billy Bob said. He stuffed half the donut in his mouth. Blue and red and pink sprinkles now dotted his goatee. 'And I heard you roughed up a couple of my boys last night at Padre's. With that kung fu c.r.a.p.'

'Taekwondo. Only after your boys accosted a lady.'

'Carla's no lady. Cusses like a roughneck and votes like a Commie. She's an environmentalist.' He had amused himself again. 'Course, she fits right in now, all those New York h.o.m.o-s.e.xuals moving down here, voting Democrat ... h.e.l.l, Presidio County went for Obama, only county in all of West Texas. That's pretty G.o.dd.a.m.n embarra.s.sing, if you ask me.'

'I didn't.'

'If you did.' He finished off the donut. 'You know, Carla, her-'

Billy Bob stopped short his sentence as if he had thought better of it. He abruptly pivoted and lumbered out. Nadine crammed the last of her donut into her mouth as if she were in a donut-eating contest then quickly grabbed another chocolate one; they followed Billy Bob farther down the hallway. Book whispered to Nadine.

'You know how much sugar you're putting in your body?'

'Better than a man,' she said through a mouthful of donut.

They entered an expansive office with the courthouse cupola framed in a wall of gla.s.s. Billy Bob gestured at two chairs in front of a ma.s.sive wood desk that looked as if it had been carved out of a redwood tree.

'Take a load off.'

He circled the desk and dropped into a leather chair that resembled a throne. They sat in the visitors' chairs. The office featured wood and leather and the aroma of cigars. A tall bookshelf behind Billy Bob held more Aggie memorabilia, signed footb.a.l.l.s and framed photographs of Billy Bob with coaches and the governor of Texas, a former yell leader himself. On the wall opposite the desk hung a huge flat screen television; on the side wall were large maps of Texas, the U.S., and the world. The desktop was clean except for a copy of The Times of Marfa with Book's photo on the front page, a remote control, and a Western-style handgun sitting atop a thick stack of papers. Billy Bob swiveled in his chair, reached into a cigar box on the shelf, and removed a long cigar. He held it out to Book, but Book shook his head. Billy Bob clamped his teeth around the cigar.

'I hate Commies, but the Cubans do make good cigars.'

He picked up the handgun, pointed the barrel at Book, and pulled the trigger. A flame shot out the barrel.

'Lighter.'

He moved the flame to the end of the cigar, but Book's intern stopped him cold.

'No!'

Billy Bob looked at her. 'What?'

'I have allergies.'

Billy Bob studied her a moment then released the trigger of the handgun-lighter. The flame disappeared. He replaced the lighter on the stack of papers. His gaze returned to Nadine, as if expecting a show of appreciation for his chivalry. But all he got was, 'Thanks.' Book decided to use the moment to begin his cross-examination of Billy Bob Barnett.

'Mr. Barnett, are your fracking operations contaminating the groundwater?'

Some lawyers believe that aggressive rapid-fire questioning is the most effective form of cross. Perhaps it is in a courtroom where the witness knows he is the target. But outside a court-room, when you're still stalking the target, when the witness does not yet know he is the target-when you're not even sure he is the target-such questioning is not effective. The witness simply refuses to answer your questions; and there is no judge to force an answer.

Book wanted answers from Billy Bob Barnett.