volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

“THE SONS FIRST
appeared in a 1935 short, which I don’t have, an’ which may not
even exist anymore, called Slightly Static—you writin’ this down?”
Roy looks aggrieved.
Was he supposed to?
“No. I—”
Pete laughs at his consternation.
“You’re a good boy, Roy.” He chuckles as he lights the joint
dangling from his lip, scrunching an eye against the smoke.
Pete passes the smoldering twist to Roy.
Tonight Pete wears black jeans, black lizard boots, a black,
bat-yoked shirt with mother-of-peal snaps, and a black leather
vest decorated with big, silver conchos.
Tonight Pete wears black.
He also wears his Colt.
“Their songs’re a part’ve th’ Western canon. Ford used
’em a lot—they were in over a hundret pitchers, not countin’
background songs an’ radio shows an’ th’ like.”
The drug wallops Roy, and he’s flooded with a sense of
calmness and well-being. He feels secure and cared for here
in the apartment of Pete, something he has not felt before,
something he is not used to. Something he likes.
“—hard to decide, so I selected William Wyler’s Th’
Westerner—”
Williamwyler. Williamwyler. Williamwyler.
Pete drones on. Roy half-listens.
Details elude Roy. So far, though, he’s enjoyed watching the
movies.
And getting stoned.
And drunk.
ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY 2 1