Too Beautiful to Die

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Too Beautiful to Die Page 25

by Glenville Lovell


  “You okay?” I said.

  “I’m hungry.” He yawned.

  I laughed. “After what you ate today you got the nerve to be hungry?”

  “We shouldn’t have left. I was having a good time,” he groused.

  “Mom is anxious to see you.”

  “Jesus, I’m not a baby. I still don’t understand why I can’t stay with you.”

  “I already told you. Anais is back. The apartment is too small. We gonna need some privacy for a while.”

  He frowned. “I still don’t get it. I won’t get in your way. I’ll be out most of the time.”

  “I don’t think New York is a good place for you.”

  “Why not?”

  I glanced at his face fixed in a scowl. “You know why not.”

  “I don’t like living in New Jersey. It’s boring.”

  “Not today, I promise. Mom’s got something special planned. We really didn’t get to celebrate your birthday, remember?”

  He screwed up his face. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t like living with Mom. She drives me crazy. She’s too nosy. And I’ve had enough of celebrations.”

  “Don’t talk foolishness, Jason.”

  “I’m not talking foolishness. Why is everything I say foolishness to you?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “You say it all the time.”

  “I do not.”

  “Yes, you do.” His voice turned shrill. “I told you all before. No parties. No celebrations. Why don’t you listen to me?”

  “Look Jase,” I said, trying to calm him down. “Mom sounded so relieved when I told her I’d found you that whether you like it or not she’s gonna have a little party. You know how she is. I’m sure she’s cooking all like now. I bet she’s got some catfish seasoned just the way you like it.”

  He began to bang his fists on the dashboard. “She isn’t doing it for me, she’s doing it for herself. And what do you mean by you found me? I wasn’t lost. Who appointed you my guardian, anyway? You almost got me killed. If you hadn’t sent that guy looking for me, I wouldn’t have been involved in your crazy shit.”

  I reached over and patted his forearm. “Just calm down, okay.”

  He knocked my hand away. “Stop patronizing me.”

  I swerved into the right lane to pass a slow-moving truck. “Okay, Jason, you want the straight fucking dope?”

  He looked at me bug-eyed. “Yeah, give me the straight fucking dope, man. I can handle it. I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “You can handle what? Tell me. What can you handle?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “You can’t even piss without hosing your shoes, Jason. I’m tired of saving your ass, okay? I’m tired of it. I’m tired of watching you fuck up all the time. You’re not the only one in this family with a problem. We all got problems to deal with. You don’t think Melanie’s got problems? You don’t think I’ve got problems? You don’t think Mom’s got problems? The question is, Jason: When’re you gonna grow up and do something about your fucking problem before you kill yourself and our mother along with you?”

  He began to laugh. “If I die, that would take care of my problem, wouldn’t it?”

  “Is that what you want, Jason? You want to die?”

  He was still laughing. “If I die and Mom dies, she wouldn’t have any more problems either, would she?”

  I looked at him, and for a second I hated him. I mashed my foot on the gas and the Jeep leapt forward. With both hands I gripped the steering wheel hard, my foot grinding the accelerator to the floor in an attempt to turn it to pulp. The speedometer shot past seventy-five. It hit eighty and kept going. Ninety. One hundred. I looked at Jason. His eyes were fixed ahead, wide with fear. I was now doing a hundred and ten, zipping by cars as if they had stopped. One hundred and fifteen.

  “Slow down, Blades,” Jason screamed.

  “You wanna die, Jason? Then we die together.”

  “You’re crazy! Slow down! Stop! You’re gonna crash!”

  “What difference does it make how you die? An overdose or a car crash. It’s all the same. You’re dead.”

  “Slow down, Blades. Please!”

  “I thought you wanted to die.”

  “Please, Blades. Slow down. I don’t wanna die.”

  I lifted my foot off the gas and touched the brakes softly. The Jeep began to slow down, easing to an even cruising speed of sixty-five. Jason was hunched over in his seat, his body shaking. I thought he was crying, but then he straightened up and I realized it was the shiver of relief. I drove for another mile in silence.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  His face was bloodless. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s okay?” I laughed. “You’re stealing my lines.”

  He tried to smile. “Everything is so easy for you, Blades. The way you handled those men last night. You were so cool.”

  “Killing people isn’t cool.”

  “I heard you tell somebody on the phone you’re going to kill him.”

  “That’s not cool.”

  “You really gonna kill him?”

  “The killing is over, Jason. I just wanna see my wife.”

  “You sounded like you wanted to kill him.”

  I paused. “Maybe I did then.”

  “You don’t let shit get to you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “That’s how it looks.”

  I took a deep breath and looked out the window. A lump of pity knotted in my throat. “You know what gets to me, Jason? You. I don’t even know if I like myself anymore, but the person I am today is because of you. You were the first person not to take notice of the other in me. And to me that made you special.”

  “I was just happy to have a brother, dude.”

  “Did you like my father?”

  He looked at me, massaging his chin. “He was alright.”

  “Would you’ve liked him better if he was white?”

  He smiled, as if he was not at all surprised by my question. “I don’t know. Maybe. I know Melanie didn’t like him, but he was an alright guy.” He paused. “I mean, I liked him. He was alright. He knew a lot about baseball. And he always came to see me play. That was cool. Do you know where he is?”

  I paused. No one in my family knew that I’d found my father. Not even my mother. “Yes, I know where he is.”

  “Does Mom know?”

  “I didn’t tell her.”

  We fell silent. My eyes shifted from the road to his a few times. We both knew what was going through the other’s mind.

  “Are you going to tell her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t want her to know, your secret is safe with me,” he said. “I don’t know the last time I talked to my father. I missed him a lot when he left. And I was angry. At your father, too, for a while. And at Mom. I really wanted to go live with my father. But he didn’t want me.”

  A row of New Jersey state troopers zipped past, sirens and lights going off. Jason reached out and touched my arm. “I don’t want to go back to one of those rehab clinics, Blades.”

  “It’s the only way for you to get better.”

  “Suppose I can’t get better?”

  “You can get better.”

  “I don’t want to go back.”

  “I’m sorry, Jason, but you can’t fuck up anymore. You gotta get better.”

  “I’ll only go if you promise to come and look for me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Will you teach me how to shoot?”

  “No.”

  The sun sank behind a clot of trees, leaving a vibrant yellow stain on the gray sky. I rolled down my window. The evening air was dry and crisp. I wet my lips. Jason reached over and switched the radio to a rock station. I thought of Anais and smiled.

  40

  TWO
NIGHTS LATER I cooked a simple dinner of grilled Chilean sea bass and roasted Yukon gold potatoes for Anais. She had brought several bottles of Rutherford Hill Merlot and Chardonnay Reserve from California, and we ate picnic-style on the rug in the living room.

  After dinner we relaxed on the sofa, sipping wine and listening to Mingus’ masterpiece, Fables of Foibus. We finished two bottles of chardonnay as I filled her in on the story.

  Congresswoman Richardson had finally discovered her conscience and sang to Bressler when he arrived looking for me. She withdrew from the race the next day. The Feds got their computer back. Gabriel Aquia was charged with murder, kidnapping, child pornography and a number of other felonies. He tried to cut a deal by supplying investigators with the names of several police and Immigration officers on his payroll and a list of his special clients. The police raided his warehouse and found boxes of digital masters of movies with such titles as Under 13, Underage Blacks, Too Young To Tell, and so on, ready to be sent to Europe and Latin America, where CDs and tapes were made for reshipment. These tapes and CDs were sold to these special clients at hefty prices.

  I didn’t tell her Jimmy Lucas was still alive.

  “I always thought Jimmy Lucas was a little creepy,” Anais said afterward. “He and that stupid collection of Buffalo Bills sweatshirts.”

  She was lying in my arms, her back slack against my chest. I felt light, as if the carnival of a few days before had not yet ceased in my body. I lapped at her neck.

  The phone rang. I went to answer it in the bedroom. Frankie, my lawyer, was on the other end.

  “Guess what, Blades,” he boomed.

  “You’re going to announce that you’re running for mayor.”

  He laughed. I had to move the receiver away from my ear temporarily. His volcanic eruption was deafening. When I resumed listening, he said, “They’re offering two-point-five million to settle.”

  “Is that what you expected?”

  “We could probably hold out for more.”

  “Settle it.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “We’ll have the papers in a couple of weeks.”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you okay, Blades? I know the last few days have been rough. You want me to arrange for you to talk to somebody?”

  “I was talking to somebody when you called.”

  “I meant a professional.”

  “I don’t need anybody else.”

  “You sure?”

  “Good night, Frankie.”

  I hung up and went back to the living room, where Anais was opening another bottle of wine. I reclined on the couch.

  “That was Frankie Rose,” I said.

  She gave me a glass of wine and snuggled into my arms again, assuming the same position as before.

  I stroked her neck. “They’ve put two-point-five mil on the table. I told him to take it.”

  She purred. “Is it over now, Blades?”

  “No.”

  “What more do you need?”

  “You. Is there anyone waiting for you to come back to L.A.?” I said.

  “My agent.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No lovers, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, Blades.”

  “You were always good at reading my mind.”

  “And I don’t like what it’s telling me now.”

  “What? What’s not to like?”

  “I can’t promise you I’ll stay.”

  “Why not? I love you, Anais.”

  “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Where does playing fair get me?”

  “Blades, let’s not rush things. We need to talk about counseling.”

  “I’ve done that already.”

  “I don’t want to be afraid of you, Blades.”

  “It’s over. I promise. My mind is free. I haven’t felt like this since the first time I saw you naked.”

  Trying to stifle a laugh, she turned around and kissed me. “You’re too much.”

  I tongued her ear. “Too much for you?”

  She squirmed and giggled. “Let’s just get through tonight first. You’re here. I’m here. You’re safe, thank God. We’re together. Let’s see how that goes. See if we can make it through one night. It’s too early for tomorrow. And too late for yesterday.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I asked first.”

  She sucked my thumb in her mouth. “You know what I want to do.”

  “What if I want to hear you say it?”

  “Make love to me, Blades.”

  I stood up and reached down to gather her in my arms to take her to the bedroom. She pushed me away, settling back onto the floor, her legs spread.

  “Right here on the floor. I’m not making love to you in that bed,” she said. “You have to change it.”

  I looked at her, mystified.

  She screwed up her eyes. “You made love to her in that bed, Blades.”

  “That’s a new bed.”

  “I don’t care. Get a newer one. Do you expect to make love to me in that bed?”

  I sat back down on the rug with a sigh. “Anything you say, dear.”

  “I will deal with your patronizing tone later.” She leaned over and kissed me.

  I buried my head in the cave of her thighs as the phone rang. I refused to answer it.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is

  http://www.penguinputnam.com

 

 

 


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