toyed with it, studied it, then dropped it on top of the glass ashtray. “Don’t make them come back. The white guy, the one with the cowboy boots, he had some Polaroid pictures. God, I don’t want to remember them.”
“Do you know who these guys are?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see them before?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She squeezed one hand around the fingers of the other. “In the pictures, some colored people were tied up in a basement or something. They had blood all over them. Dave, some of them were still alive. I can’t forget what their faces looked like.”
I sat down beside her and picked up her hands. Her eyes were wet, and I could smell the marijuana on her breath.
“If you catch that plane tonight, you can start a new life. I’ll check on you and my friend will help you, and you’ll put all this stuff behind you. How much money do you have?”
“A couple of hundred dollars maybe.”
“I’ll give you two hundred more. That’ll get you to your first paycheck. But no snorting, no dropping, no shooting. You understand that?”
“Hey, is this guy out there one of your AA pals? Because I told you I don’t dig that scene.”
“Who’s asking you to?”
“I got enough troubles without getting my head shrunk by a bunch of ex-drunks.”
“Make your own choice. It’s your life, kiddo.”
“Yeah, but you’re always up to something on the side. You should have been a priest. You still go to Mass?”
“Sure.”
“You remember the time you took me to midnight Mass at St. Louis Cathedral? Then we walked across the square and had beignets at the Café du Monde. You know, I thought maybe you were serious about me that night.”
“I have to ask you a couple of questions before I go.”
“Sure, why not? Most men are interested in my jugs. You come around like a census taker.”
“I’m serious, Robin. Do you remember a guy named Victor Romero?”
“Yeah, I guess so. He used to hang around with Johnny Dartez.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Here.”
“What do you know about him?”
“He’s a little dark-skinned guy with black curls hanging off his head, and he wears a French beret like he’s an artist or something. Except he’s bad news. He sold some tainted skag down on Magazine, and I heard a couple of kids were dead before they got the spike out of their arms.”
“Was he muling for Bubba Rocque, too?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. I haven’t seen the guy in months. Why do you care about those dipshits? I thought you were the family man now. Maybe things aren’t too good at home.”
“Maybe.”
“And you’re the guy that’s going to clean up mommy’s act so she can wipe off tables for the tourists. Wow.”
“Here’s the airline ticket and the two hundred dollars. My friend’s name is written on the envelope. Do whatever you want.”
I started to get up, but she pressed her hands down on my arms. Her breasts were large and heavy against her T-shirt, and I knew secretly that I had the same weakness as the men who watched her every night at Smiling Jack’s.
“Dave?”
“What?”
“Do you think about me a little bit sometimes?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like me?”
“You know I do.”
“I mean the way you’d like an ordinary woman, somebody who didn’t have a pharmacy floating around in her bloodstream.”
“I like you a lot, Robin.”
“Stay just a minute, then. I’ll take the plane tonight. I promise.”
Then she put her arm across my chest, tucked her head under my chin like a small girl, and pressed herself against me. Her short-cropped, dark hair was soft and smelled of shampoo, and I could feel her breasts swell against me as she breathed. Outside it was raining hard on the courtyard. I brushed her cheek with my fingers and held her hand, then a moment later I felt her shudder as though some terrible tension and fear had left her body with sleep. In the silence I looked out at the rain dancing on the iron
“Do you know who these guys are?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see them before?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She squeezed one hand around the fingers of the other. “In the pictures, some colored people were tied up in a basement or something. They had blood all over them. Dave, some of them were still alive. I can’t forget what their faces looked like.”
I sat down beside her and picked up her hands. Her eyes were wet, and I could smell the marijuana on her breath.
“If you catch that plane tonight, you can start a new life. I’ll check on you and my friend will help you, and you’ll put all this stuff behind you. How much money do you have?”
“A couple of hundred dollars maybe.”
“I’ll give you two hundred more. That’ll get you to your first paycheck. But no snorting, no dropping, no shooting. You understand that?”
“Hey, is this guy out there one of your AA pals? Because I told you I don’t dig that scene.”
“Who’s asking you to?”
“I got enough troubles without getting my head shrunk by a bunch of ex-drunks.”
“Make your own choice. It’s your life, kiddo.”
“Yeah, but you’re always up to something on the side. You should have been a priest. You still go to Mass?”
“Sure.”
“You remember the time you took me to midnight Mass at St. Louis Cathedral? Then we walked across the square and had beignets at the Café du Monde. You know, I thought maybe you were serious about me that night.”
“I have to ask you a couple of questions before I go.”
“Sure, why not? Most men are interested in my jugs. You come around like a census taker.”
“I’m serious, Robin. Do you remember a guy named Victor Romero?”
“Yeah, I guess so. He used to hang around with Johnny Dartez.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Here.”
“What do you know about him?”
“He’s a little dark-skinned guy with black curls hanging off his head, and he wears a French beret like he’s an artist or something. Except he’s bad news. He sold some tainted skag down on Magazine, and I heard a couple of kids were dead before they got the spike out of their arms.”
“Was he muling for Bubba Rocque, too?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. I haven’t seen the guy in months. Why do you care about those dipshits? I thought you were the family man now. Maybe things aren’t too good at home.”
“Maybe.”
“And you’re the guy that’s going to clean up mommy’s act so she can wipe off tables for the tourists. Wow.”
“Here’s the airline ticket and the two hundred dollars. My friend’s name is written on the envelope. Do whatever you want.”
I started to get up, but she pressed her hands down on my arms. Her breasts were large and heavy against her T-shirt, and I knew secretly that I had the same weakness as the men who watched her every night at Smiling Jack’s.
“Dave?”
“What?”
“Do you think about me a little bit sometimes?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like me?”
“You know I do.”
“I mean the way you’d like an ordinary woman, somebody who didn’t have a pharmacy floating around in her bloodstream.”
“I like you a lot, Robin.”
“Stay just a minute, then. I’ll take the plane tonight. I promise.”
Then she put her arm across my chest, tucked her head under my chin like a small girl, and pressed herself against me. Her short-cropped, dark hair was soft and smelled of shampoo, and I could feel her breasts swell against me as she breathed. Outside it was raining hard on the courtyard. I brushed her cheek with my fingers and held her hand, then a moment later I felt her shudder as though some terrible tension and fear had left her body with sleep. In the silence I looked out at the rain dancing on the iron
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