Loretta Lynn_ Coal Miner's Daughter - Loretta Lynn [103]
Jim Webb takes my arm and escorts me back into the bus. I start slamming things around my bedroom while Martha and Jean ask me what’s wrong; and I tell them.
“They just do it for a joke,” Martha says.
“Well, it makes me mad,” I say.
“Don’t let it show,” Jean says. “That just makes it worse.”
We just sit there for a while, until Cal Smith comes on the bus. He knows I’m mad, but he can’t resist teasing me.
“What’s the matter, Clytha June?” he asks me. That’s his nickname for me—meaning I’m all country.
“When are you going back with Ernest Tubb?” I say.
But I can’t stay mad at anybody for long. In a few minutes, some of the boys are drinking a soda and talking with us, and it’s all forgotten. We do the second show at 9:30, and it’s 1 A.M. before we get back to the motel. Did you ever try to get a good sandwich at 1 A.M. in Cincinnati? They may have some great restaurants, but that late-sandwich bit can’t be done, folks. I end up eating a cold cheeseburger, and it makes me queasy all night long.
Saturday, May 6: My stomach still hurts. I don’t order any breakfast, just lie in bed feeling miserable. The bus is leaving at noon, and I just wait until Jim Webb tells me to get packed. We get in the bus and take off. Me and George sit in the back and talk. I keep the shades drawn as we roll on along the interstate highway. Like I said before, I’ve seen the roads too much in my life.
About three o’clock, we stop in front of another motel. If you ask me, it looks just like the one we left.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Columbus, Ohio,” somebody says.
I never gave any thought to it, but the boys must be happy this trip. Most of ’em have family around Columbus, particularly Don Ballinger and Chuck Flynn, the new bass player. I look out the window and there’s Chuck with his kids. It’s probably the first time he’s seen ’em since he joined our show a month ago. I get to thinking about Doo and my twins back at the ranch, and I get kind of homesick.
Up in my motel room, I order a big lunch of liver and potatoes, salad, milk, and pie. Ever since the doctor told me I’ve got high blood pressure, I’ve been trying to build up my iron. I turn on the television set, but I fall asleep until it’s time for the show.
We take the bus out to the auditorium, and I’m still half asleep. But I wake up fast when I see my cousin Marie. Oh my gosh, I forgot. We’re in Columbus, Ohio. Half the time I clear forget what town we’re in! Marie’s closer to me than a sister. Her husband died early this year, and I ain’t seen her or talked to her since. I motion for Jim to open the door for her, and she comes in.
We look at each other, and I can see how broken up she is. We give each other a big hug and a kiss. She’s trembling like she’s freezing.
“I’m nervous,” Marie says. “I can’t sleep none yet.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the funeral,” I say. “I told Mommy to send flowers.”
“She did,” Marie says. “It’s been rough. Every time my little grandchildren ask, ‘Where’s Grandpa?’ I just fall apart.”
We go to the back of the bus. Marie takes a Valium, hoping it will calm her down. She and Charles had their problems, like all married couples, but he was a nice feller. It’s gonna be tough on Marie, I think to myself. She offers to fix my hair, so I lean back and relax. The Valium calms her down a little bit and she does a good job with my hair. We talk about the old days, back in Butcher Holler, and then it’s time for me to do the show—only one show tonight.
I get out on stage and there