you?”
“Long walks on the sand. Nothing to think about for two days. Just you and me. Cinnamon rolls for breakfast, ham and eggs for lunch at that dumpy little diner, popcorn and a video for dinner. Build a fire on the beach and roast hot dogs till midnight. Maybe buy a kite and fly it over the waves. I can't quote Emily Dickinson, but I might be able to remember a couple of booger jokes.”
Kathy got up, walked around the desk, and sat in my lap, draping her arms around my shoulders. “You do know how to sweet-talk a girl.”
“What do you call an anorexic booger?” I said.
“What?”
“Slim Pickens.”
“Oh, you are a charmer.”
I buried my face in her chest, nuzzling her, an activity I'm sure Bert would have handed over his life savings to perform. Not that he had any life savings. She stroked the back of my neck.
“I'll try to find a replacement for this trip I'm supposed to take with Jane.”
“So we can scram out of town tonight?”
“I'll make a reservation. At this time of year they're bound to have openings in the middle of the week, but I'll call anyway. I'm glad you thought of this. See you tonight. We can have dinner on the road.”
“Sounds good.” When I reached the doorway, I turned around and said, “Don't you think Mr. Slezak was a little out of line?”
“He's harmless. Do you know what they've got him on now? The latest?”
“Lithium?”
“No. His brother bailed him out this morning. Friday night and Saturday morning he held off a sheriffs SWAT team. They went out to arrest him because he was back on his grandmother's property again. He was in the trailer watching TV when they asked his grandmother if he had any weapons. She admitted he had three shotguns, a couple of semiautomatic rifles, at least eight pistols, and five thousand rounds of ammunition. So the SWAT team surrounded the trailer and ordered him out. He looked out the window, sized up the situation, and told them to get lost. They ended up waiting eight hours until he drank himself to sleep. God only knows how I talked the judge into bail.”
“He fire any shots?”
“He didn't even talk to them. He just wouldn't come out. I wish there was some good mental health facility we could get him into, something that didn't cost an arm and a leg. And to answer your question, no. He claims he didn't touch any of the weapons. I'll have to wait for discovery and see what they're actually alleging.”
“Ought to be good.”
“Don't be gleeful about somebody else's misfortunes.”
“Me?”
“You're the one who always says we're all just one banana peel on the sidewalk away from being in the shoes of one of these crackpots.” “That was a wise man, said that.” “Yes, it was. And I love him, too.”
I WAS SLIDING BEHIND the wheel of my Ford sedan in a quiet little parking spot under the Alaskan Way Viaduct near the ferry terminal when a man appeared at the side of the car, opened the door, and skidded into the passenger seat as if stealing third base. For a second I thought he was a panhandler hopped up on speed, but it was Bert Slezak, smirking as if we were best friends, his pale blue eyes entombed in his perpetually sunburned face.
As always, his features were capable of contorting through an infinite range of expressions. Snake was the same. I'd never figured out if the brothers did it in a calculated manner, or if it was some Marlon Brando acting gene they were born with. They both also wore a façade of toughness like a Kevlar vest, though underneath they were uncommonly brittle.
“Hey, man,” he said.
“What do you want?”
“I would never have propositioned your old lady if I'd known you were in the other room.”
“Of course not. You might get your neck broken. Best to do it while I'm out of town, or laid up with a bad gall bladder.”
“The government's still after me for things I did years ago. They'll frame me any time they get the chance.” He let the non sequitur hang in the air, as
“Long walks on the sand. Nothing to think about for two days. Just you and me. Cinnamon rolls for breakfast, ham and eggs for lunch at that dumpy little diner, popcorn and a video for dinner. Build a fire on the beach and roast hot dogs till midnight. Maybe buy a kite and fly it over the waves. I can't quote Emily Dickinson, but I might be able to remember a couple of booger jokes.”
Kathy got up, walked around the desk, and sat in my lap, draping her arms around my shoulders. “You do know how to sweet-talk a girl.”
“What do you call an anorexic booger?” I said.
“What?”
“Slim Pickens.”
“Oh, you are a charmer.”
I buried my face in her chest, nuzzling her, an activity I'm sure Bert would have handed over his life savings to perform. Not that he had any life savings. She stroked the back of my neck.
“I'll try to find a replacement for this trip I'm supposed to take with Jane.”
“So we can scram out of town tonight?”
“I'll make a reservation. At this time of year they're bound to have openings in the middle of the week, but I'll call anyway. I'm glad you thought of this. See you tonight. We can have dinner on the road.”
“Sounds good.” When I reached the doorway, I turned around and said, “Don't you think Mr. Slezak was a little out of line?”
“He's harmless. Do you know what they've got him on now? The latest?”
“Lithium?”
“No. His brother bailed him out this morning. Friday night and Saturday morning he held off a sheriffs SWAT team. They went out to arrest him because he was back on his grandmother's property again. He was in the trailer watching TV when they asked his grandmother if he had any weapons. She admitted he had three shotguns, a couple of semiautomatic rifles, at least eight pistols, and five thousand rounds of ammunition. So the SWAT team surrounded the trailer and ordered him out. He looked out the window, sized up the situation, and told them to get lost. They ended up waiting eight hours until he drank himself to sleep. God only knows how I talked the judge into bail.”
“He fire any shots?”
“He didn't even talk to them. He just wouldn't come out. I wish there was some good mental health facility we could get him into, something that didn't cost an arm and a leg. And to answer your question, no. He claims he didn't touch any of the weapons. I'll have to wait for discovery and see what they're actually alleging.”
“Ought to be good.”
“Don't be gleeful about somebody else's misfortunes.”
“Me?”
“You're the one who always says we're all just one banana peel on the sidewalk away from being in the shoes of one of these crackpots.” “That was a wise man, said that.” “Yes, it was. And I love him, too.”
I WAS SLIDING BEHIND the wheel of my Ford sedan in a quiet little parking spot under the Alaskan Way Viaduct near the ferry terminal when a man appeared at the side of the car, opened the door, and skidded into the passenger seat as if stealing third base. For a second I thought he was a panhandler hopped up on speed, but it was Bert Slezak, smirking as if we were best friends, his pale blue eyes entombed in his perpetually sunburned face.
As always, his features were capable of contorting through an infinite range of expressions. Snake was the same. I'd never figured out if the brothers did it in a calculated manner, or if it was some Marlon Brando acting gene they were born with. They both also wore a façade of toughness like a Kevlar vest, though underneath they were uncommonly brittle.
“Hey, man,” he said.
“What do you want?”
“I would never have propositioned your old lady if I'd known you were in the other room.”
“Of course not. You might get your neck broken. Best to do it while I'm out of town, or laid up with a bad gall bladder.”
“The government's still after me for things I did years ago. They'll frame me any time they get the chance.” He let the non sequitur hang in the air, as
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