Rough Country

slots on the circuit. I pack the place for a week, and you get to keep all the money from your albums.”
    They heard a car turn in at the driveway, and Slibe got up to look. “It’s that Zoe,” he said.
    “I called her,” Wendy said.
    “What the fuck for?” Berni asked.
    “Because she’s smarter than we are, and she knows about things like contracts and taxes,” Wendy said. “And besides, she’s in love with me, so we don’t have to pay her.”
    “She’s a pain in the ass,” Slibe said. “And she hates my guts.”
    Zoe knocked, and Slibe let her in. She said, “Slibe,” and he said, “Zoe.”
     
     
     
    ZOE TOOK THE CONTRACT, saying, “I’m not a lawyer.”
    “Just read the thing,” Wendy said.
    Zoe went into the kitchen to do that.
    Slibe said to Windrow, “But if you don’t want them, even if they do make an album, but it doesn’t sell that well, then you can throw them away.”
    Windrow nodded: “Absolutely. The contract is written in my favor, because I’m the one taking the risk here. Show me a bank mortgage where it says the buyer doesn’t have to pay, if he doesn’t feel like it. Bullshit, there are no bank contracts like that. They all favor the bank. In this deal, I’m the bank.”
     
     
     
    THEY WERE ALL SITTING in the living room area of the trailer-home, Windrow closest to the exit, which was near the middle of the trailer, Wendy and Berni on a long couch against the end wall. Windrow was looking at Berni when he thought he saw something move behind the venetian blind, where the bottom blade of the blind was bent. Something like an eye, but then it was gone, leaving nothing but the gathering darkness.
    Zoe came back, handed the paper to Wendy, and asked, “What do you want to know?”
    “Basically, if I should sign it,” Wendy said.
    “I can’t tell you that. Depends on what you want to do. I don’t know anything about this Spodee-Odee. Is it a big deal?”
    “Pretty big deal,” Wendy said.
    “According to this guy,” Slibe said, nodding at Windrow.
    “We’re not the biggest club in the country, but we’re up there,” Windrow said.
    “Well, I’ve seen a few contracts with writers, and it looks like those. Mr. Windrow is sort of acting as an agent here. That’s the fifteen percent part. Of course, if you get another agent, he’ll also want fifteen percent . . . but you don’t have to pay Mr. Windrow if you play, you know. Depending on how much money is involved at that point, you could decide to go either way. Unless . . .”
    Wendy: “Unless what?”
    “Unless the band breaks up and you quit singing,” Zoe said. “I don’t see what happens then.”
    “One of two things,” Windrow said. “If she wins the lottery and is worth a hundred million bucks and doesn’t want to sing, I sue her, hoping to get a piece of the hundred million bucks. The second thing would be, she doesn’t win the lottery, the band breaks up, she quits singing, goes to work in a diner, and what the fuck would I sue her for? Half of her next cheeseburger? If that happens, I wave it off. There’s no profit in going after what doesn’t exist.”
    “That’s some pretty fancy tap-dancing right there,” Slibe said.
    Wendy started flipping through the contract. “What about this chick O’Hara? It says we’ve got to take O’Hara while we’re with you. How about if we kept Berni for that month?”
    Windrow said, “Bite the bullet, Wendy. O’Hara’s the best female drummer out there, who’s loose. She’d fit you guys like a glove. Divorced, no kids, and she’s looking for a new band. I’ll make the deal with her, she’ll come up here and work out with you. And Berni can start working on her front act, right up on stage with you, singing backup, showing off, playing the tambourine, maybe. Strut-tin’ her stuff.”
    “Fuckin’ tambourine,” Berni said, and she dropped her face into her hands, and again, Windrow saw the flash behind the venetian blind. Was there somebody out there?
    Wendy put her hand on Berni’s thigh and said, “We can do it. We can make you into the hottest thing on the stage. I’ve got these big cow tits, but you’re what every cowboy wants. . . . It’ll work.”
    Slibe said, “Something else about this contract . . .”
     
     
     
    SO THEY ARGUED into the evening, watching the clock, and finally Wendy turned to Slibe and said, “We gotta get down to the Goose. But I’m gonna do it. I gotta talk to the other guys, but I’m gonna do