I pulled up to the trailer. First time in 5 years I’m up after lights out. As I walked in a shot a ricochet’d off the trailer, a hokey sound FX. In an instant I was siting down Delong’s pistol, peering into darkness. The darkness of a run down trailer park, the darkness of evil men. Shadows against trailers. There was a rustle near the trash cans, the ones Delong had run into earlier that night. I chased the noise… a cat fled. Whoever took the shot was gone. Gregg came out of the office. I slipped behind him, placed the gun beside his face, he froze. “What are you doing up?” “I thought I heard a shot.” “Smell it.” “Huh?” “Smell the gun. If it’s been fired it will smell.” “Nuthin’.” “Mention that when you talk to the cops.” Delong was examining the bullet mark on the trailer. “Such people you run with.” “Watch your language. I don’t like it when folks end sentences with prepositions.” We went in. I lay down, he fixed a sandwich, poured a glass of milk. He contemplated his snack a moment. He threw the sandwich in the trash, poured the milk back in the bottle, poured three fingers of bourbon, drank, smniled, refilled. Delong crawled into the lower bunk: “Can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either when people shoot at me. Where’d you go?” “Took a walk, saw some people.” “They must have liked you ‘cause they followed you home. You must be getting close to the money.” “Go to sleep.” “Had a good time after the cops left. I had a drink with Frannie. You got a problem. She’s stuck on you. You’re stuck on her. But she married to your best friend and she’s outta bounds. Yeah, you got a problem.” “Shut up and go to sleep.” I went to sleep while he ran a solvent through his liver. The morning was cheerfuI. Too cheerful. At some point Gregg must have been feeling flush and he had paid the YoCash for animated opposums in trash cans and they were hissing and grunting cheerfully outside the comm¨nity showers. I did my best to ignore them and Gregg’s ukulele. Delong was watching Tops do what dames do well: her nails & complain. “Why you drinking so early?” she asked. “Listen Doll,” he said, “when you drink as much as I do, you gotta start early.” “You two make up?” I asked. “Tops is giving up pickpocketing to study forgery.” “I was only going to keep his $ for him until he sobered up.” “That’s like tying it up permanently. Say, can I borrow your car today?” “It’s just a stock model you know, no armor.” Frannie poked her head out the window of the next trailer. “Want coffee, Sam?” “Be right in.” I turned to the love birds. “Having a little party tonight. Keep yourselves available.” “I like parties” said Delong. “That’s me, available,” said Tops. I picked up the paper. “Want coffee cake?” Frannie handed me a cup of joe. “No thanks. Don’t you have to be at work?” “Not for half hour yet. Sam, what are you doing?” “Not sure yet. Just probing a few sore spots.” “And getting shot at.” “I think they were just trying to scare me off.” “Where’d you go?” “I called on someone who might clear Hammy.” “Did you tell Hammy what you’re doing?” “I only had 5 minutes with him.” “And?” “Like you, he said leave well enough alone.” “Why don’t you?” “He only got 1 to 10, I got life. Guess I’m that much madder.” “Where you going today?” “See a witness from the trial: Bailey.” I finished the coffee. “Now get ready for work, I’ll drive you. And next time make my coffee stronger.” “Oh yes, I remember.” I went back to my rustic domicile, put on my suit and brought the car around. Her secretary job was downtown... the part of Y Town they don’t show on the map, west of the record store. She turned the mirror to review her make up. I flinched. “You used to hate it when I did that,” my angel said. “Still do.” I checked the side mirrors, past the oil pumps & car lots to see if Cobb was keeping up. He was. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight.” “What are you using for money?” “I’ve a horse, Anita Drink, in the 3rd at Zynga Meadows.” “Risky making dinner plans on a horse.” “Not this one. They’ve a picture of him finishing first before the race starts.” I parked where she pointed. Frannie leaned toward me, her lips parting slightly. I leaned over, reached around her… opened the passenger door. “Sam, please don’t do anything dangerous.” “Don’t worry about me. I had 5 years to think about what to do.” I patted her hand, she crossed the street. While she crossed the street I wished I wasn’t in black & white. I’d guess her dress is black & her shoes are as red as the lipstick I think she wears. But, a 2D ex-con hasn’t the YoCash to upgrade to color. Just a black and white cartoon. At least I’m not chasin’ road runners. Frannie turned & waved before going in, an angel I was determined to rescue. I adjusted the mirror. I could just make out Cobb’s car parked 2 blocks back. I pulled out, headed back to Baker Street, in the suburbs south of the Speedway, Cletus Bailey’s humble abode.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Mar 2014 19:25:13 +0000
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