by Carey Lewis
Pablo slapped him on the shoulder and made his way up the steps, going inside, cutting through the line. Cesar and Hector talked quietly together. It looked like an intense conversation. He didn’t know which one of these two groups would prove more dangerous to him.
After a few moments Pablo came out and told them to follow. Deacon walked behind Pablo who was following the hostess, the others bringing up the rear. The waitresses walked around with their black pants and white dress shirts and ties, the men wearing the same thing, going from table to table with big hunks of meat they cut up and placed onto people’s plates.
He guessed he understood what Pablo was talking about - the families and tourists in the place that gave a facade of being exclusive but let anyone through their doors. There were white tablecloths and cloth napkins with kids coloring on them but no one telling them to stop. A nappy red carpet under their feet with paintings or photographs on the wall, the same shit you’d buy in Ikea and think it added a touch of class. The dim lighting. The jazz quartet playing over in the back corner.
They were brought through the restaurant toward a room in the back with a long table in the middle and people resetting it, cleaning it off and wiping it down. The hostess waved at them to have a seat and said someone would be along to take their drink order. Deacon watched Pablo peel a bill off a stack of cash and hand it to her. She left and he said, “I have made the best with what I have been given,” then told everyone to sit.
“You said you wanted good steak,” Cesar said, taking a seat along the side with Hector beside him.
“And this is where you chose,” Pablo said.
“I didn’t know it was a test.”
“Cesar,” Pablo said, pronouncing it ‘says-are,’ with his Spanish accent. “Everything is a test.”
IT WAS LIKE ANOTHER BRAZILIAN steakhouse Deacon had been to. That place was in Niagara Falls, on the Canadian side, the restaurant in a hotel close to one of the casinos they had. They were looking at a house up there and Spooky TV put them up in the hotel. The whole crew went downstairs and ate too much. The casino trip after that wasn’t as fun as it could’ve been, everyone just wanted to use the washroom.
Pablo told Deacon the rules of the house anyway. Listened to Pablo explain the stones on the table with the different colored paint on them. Put the one side up if you wanted more food, put the other side up if you wanted a break. “If you forget about the stones, they will come and put more on your plate,” he told Deacon.
Everyone around the table now had their stones with the red paint facing upward. Except Hector. Guy didn’t seem to stop eating and had no shame about it. Luis tried to match him but gave up about two plates ago. Even the guy with the meat on his spit was getting tired of rushing back and forth to the table.
“You know we have a salad bar,” he told Hector.
“Shame on you for that,” he told the guy with the spit of pig.
Pablo was smoking a cigar even though smoking wasn’t allowed in the restaurant. The cute girl that took their drink orders told him as much and he threw some bills at her, asked if that was enough to cover it. Now he leaned back in his chair with his hand on his belly.
“They are upset,” Pablo said, nodding his head to Luis and Javier. “They had their hearts set on seeing topless women.”
Javier looked at Deacon. “We go to one everywhere we go and get their T-shirts,” he said.
“They use the computer to find the titty clubs and plan their night around it. I have found maps with a red pen they use.”
“We have many T-shirts,” Javier said, leaning toward Deacon with his shoulder, offering him a smile. “There is one here named Derriere’s. It means ass in French.”
“That place is okay,” Huey said, “but they don’t sell you booze, you bring your own. I like The Treasure Club. That’s the one you want to go to.”
“It is on our list,” Javier said.
“Didn’t you get kicked out of there?” Hector asked between bites.
“That was Wild Things.”
“Tell them what you got kicked out for.”
Huey got quiet, looked at his lap.
“He kept asking a girl to meet his mom,” Hector said, laughing, bits of food falling out of his mouth. “Said he needed a girl to bring home to get his mom off his ass. Told the girl he’d even go home and get his mom and bring her back if she didn’t want to go, it would only take five minutes.”
“You will take my men to your titty clubs,” Pablo said to Huey. Javier and Luis perked up. “Today was not meant for business and I have taken too much of your time. Go. Enjoy yourselves.”
Javier and Luis threw their napkins on the table and rose. Javier said something in Spanish to Pablo and he answered, waving him off.
“You want me to take them?” Huey asked. He couldn’t believe he was chosen for something.
“Go. We will not bore you with our business talk,” Pablo said.
They couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Javier and Luis started peppering Huey with questions as they walked off. Now Pablo was staring at Hector, digging another fork full of meat into his mouth. Cesar tried to urge him to go without being noticed. Hector put the fork down and walked out of the restaurant.
When everyone was gone, Pablo turned to Cesar. “I did not expect to see you today but since I have you here I thought I would ask. What the fuck you are doing with my money.”
BROOKE PULLED THE SUV AROUND so she could get a view of the front doors. She sat there awhile, playing on her phone, looking at the menu for the Rio Brazilian Steakhouse. She watched Hector and Huey come out, followed by two of the Hawaiian Shirt Gang, the name she gave them in her boredom. Huey wore a big smile. Actually, all of them seemed to be loosened up except Hector.
She watched a cab pull up, then they got in and the cab drove off. She thought it wouldn’t be long now. Cesar and the Hawaiian Shirt leader would come out with Deacon and take him someplace else. Too late now for the bank. Maybe they’d take him somewhere, scare him if they didn’t know how scared he was already. Make sure he’d hop like a bunny to the bank first thing in the morning.
Instead she waited for another hour and a half until she saw them. The leader sent Cesar away while he and Deacon stayed at the door. Cesar didn’t look happy about that. He went down the side to the back, got in the Town Car and drove it to the front where Deacon got in the passenger side, and the leader in the back. They left the lot and Brooke started the engine.
She followed them down Twenty-Ninth Avenue, going toward the beach. Watched the car make a right on Ocean Boulevard, following behind them with the beach to her left. They passed the SkyWheel then Ripley’s Believe It or Not. People walked along the sidewalks, the rowdy kids out in their club clothes looking for a place to party. There were signs for an amusement park and resorts promising free WiFi. Followed them until the Town Car pulled into the Hampton Inn where it turned around and started going the opposite way back down Ocean Boulevard.
They passed everything again, the Ripley’s, the SkyWheel, more resorts, Brooke wondering what the hell they were doing.
The Town Car pulled into the circle drive of the Marriott. She stayed back on the street, watching the car. Deacon got out, said something into the car, then went inside. The car drove out the other side of the loop, made a left, and came at her now. She watched Cesar driving, gritting his teeth with the guy still in the back seat. She looked up the grade to the front doors. No Deacon.
She looked into her rear-view, saw nothing behind her so she put the SUV in gear and drove up to the hotel. She got out and ignored the doorman, walking through the sliding doors to see Deacon standing in the middle of the lobby.
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
“He wanted to show me the ocean,” Deacon said.
“That’s why you drove by it twice?”
“Told him I’ve seen it but he wanted to make sure I got a good look. He was talking about how he got here from Cuba, wanting to stress hi
s point how far it is.”
“He come here on a raft?”
“He talked about paddling.”
“So why are we here?”
“I thought Ma Bells was too far.”
“So you went to the Marriott?”
“I didn’t know where you were staying.”
“Come on,” she said then turned and walked out the door. Deacon got in the car with her and they drove to the Holiday Inn.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHE CAME OUT ONTO THE balcony and handed Deacon a drink. She said, “I can’t believe you didn’t bring me anything,” before she sat down in the chair with the thin cushion, putting her feet up on the railing looking at the moon hanging over the ocean.
“It wasn’t that kind of place.”
“Sitting in the car waiting for you I ask myself what kind of place is this. I go on my phone to look at the menu and realize I haven’t eaten all day. I see you come out with nothing but your dick in your hand.”
“They looked at me funny when I said I wanted a doggy bag for it,” Deacon said, then took a drink.
They were relaxed now on the balcony of the Holiday Inn with the beach view, enjoying the mini-bar, happy to be out of there. Brooke asked, “You want to share what you learned?”
“Pablo’s from Cuba,” Deacon said.
“Gathered that from the paddling conversation.”
“I’d say they’re in business together, but it sounds like Pablo’s the one in charge. Maybe lent Cesar money. The way he talks to Cesar, he doesn’t like it but he puts up with it.”
“That’s Cesar that doesn’t like it?”
“Yeah. Pablo came out of the gate giving him a hard time it seemed. Using me as a way of talking to him. Showing me the ocean, telling me how far he came, think it was his way of telling Cesar how tough he is. Built himself up without help.”
“Trying to be coy about it. Telling Cesar it’s better not to cross him.”
“It wasn’t all that subtle.”
Brooke took out a cigarette and lit it, thinking. “What’s their business?”
“Killing those guys and digging up plants, my guess would be weed.”
“So Pablo’s backing him in some way. Puts up the money. Comes here from Florida to see how his money is working for him. What’d he say about you being there?”
“He tells Pablo we got things we’re working on, why he was there to pick me up. He didn’t say much else other than they’re coming back to get me in the morning.”
She took a drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke vanish into the night. “Getting you with Pablo?”
“Impression I got. Huey had his lip busted open too. Think Hector did it.” Deacon reached to the table between them and took a smoke out of the pack. He grabbed her lighter and lit it.
“You never have your own.”
“I quit.”
“Buying maybe. I saw Huey the other day on the boardwalk when I told you to go home.”
“I told Cesar I left. Huey sees you here, maybe wonders why my wife is still here and I’m not. What’s that mean?”
“Probably nothing. Cesar maybe knows you lied to him now, it’s not a big deal.”
Deacon finished off the drink and asked Brooke if he could get her another. She handed him the glass and he went inside.
“Cesar has weed, what’s he need Pablo for?” she called into the room. She heard the mini-fridge open, heard the small bottles clinking as Deacon poured them into plastic cups.
“Money I guess,” he said.
“But Pablo’s acting like he’s giving Cesar money. Why’s he need yours?”
“Because it’s money,” Deacon said, back on the balcony handing her the drink. He sat down and took a drag of the cigarette. “Maybe he didn’t have enough. Ever see that movie with Danny DeVito as a bad guy? Says ‘Everyone needs money, that’s why they call it money.’”
Brooke held the cigarette to her lips, tapping them, ignoring Deacon’s question. “Cesar grows weed. He takes you and steals weed, okay, let’s say he didn’t have enough. Maybe Pablo bought some grass from Cesar and Cesar needs to fill the order.”
“Paid him, wants to know where it is. Except he said something about them being in business now. Maybe Pablo is running it for him. Comes here to get the order then boogies off to pedal it.”
“Brings you in to take care of the skinheads, if it goes wrong he can blame you.”
“Now you think it was real?”
She looked at him then, afraid to say what she thought, afraid how he would take it. “I’m trying to make it simple. It goes wrong, they put it on you. Maybe he starts thinking he’s got you in the cross hairs let’s see how far he can take it.”
They were both quiet again, smoking their cigarettes, looking out at the night sky.
“So where’s that leave us?” Deacon asked.
Us again. The unity. The grouping of them into a singular unit. Brooke didn’t say anything.
“I know it was real Brooke.”
“They didn’t sound like nice people.”
“It’s what I keep telling myself.”
Deacon finished off his drink and went back inside.
Brooke continued to stare out at the night, trying to figure everything out. There was something she was missing. Her cigarette had burned out, leaving a trail of ash that fell onto her lap. She put the butt into the ashtray and lit another.
Pablo’s in charge and Cesar doesn’t like it. Pablo has money so Cesar has to deal with it, now he’s working for Pablo, okay. Cesar with his gold tooth always coming off as sneaky, seemed to always be thinking about something. He wasn’t the type to work for someone else.
“Does it make sense to you Cesar wants you for money?” she asked as Deacon came back.
“What do you mean?”
“If he didn’t need it. Does he strike you as the type that would go through a risk unless he needed something?”
“Risk versus reward type of thing? Like maybe he blew Pablo’s money?”
“And now he owes him. You’re going to pay back the money he owes.”
“And maybe Pablo doesn’t know the money’s gone? Why Cesar can’t strut around like a peacock when he’s around. It makes sense.”
Brooke took a drag of her cigarette.
“What’s it all mean for us though?”
“Means I have to drive you back to the Marriott in the morning and we see what happens.”
CESAR WAS HAVING A HARD time sleeping. Tossing and turning, mulling over the night in his brain. Pablo telling him he’d go with them in the morning to see what Cesar had planned. Cesar told him it wasn’t quite ready yet, it’s only been a week, he was still setting things up. Pablo told him he wanted to see the foundation of what was being built.
Adapt the plan. All good business models could adapt to the market.
Okay, so he’d head over to the farmhouse with Deacon and Pablo, fill Pablo in on the way. That could work out, make it more legit. Pablo would play along, see what Cesar had cooking, see how clever he was. Pablo would play the big boss here from California, flaunting his money and importance. Add that to the TV star, give them the business card he had printed with the number for the cell phone he bought. Have Angelica answer the phone, say it was GCB Construction and no that person wasn’t in right now but she’d love to take a message.
Angelica, the girl who said she wanted nothing to do with Cesar after he went after her with the knife and cut up his own couch. Just wanted money from him all the time. Said he had a small dick because he didn’t want to buy her some heels she wanted for a grand. Letting her name the two dogs wasn’t enough for her. Wanted some heels so she could go down to Myrtle trying to get tourists to buy her drinks. He said no, she said his pecker was puny - always called it a pecker. Give me your pecker she’d say. Take out your pecker. It bothered him but he didn’t say anything because he liked what she did with it.
That’s when he went after her with the knife. Said, “Oh yeah” w
hen she called it puny then went in the kitchen. Even the dogs knew what was coming. They went off into the corner when he got the knife, stood there listening to her talk about his pecker like she was, telling him she only ever felt a peck like someone was tapping her shoulder, why she called it a pecker. Having a joke on him the entire time they were dating and he didn’t know it.
He had come out of the kitchen losing his shit, hacking away at the couch like he was the bad guy in a horror movie. He wasn’t hitting her, didn’t want to, just making a show. The show worked, she left crying, told him he was nuts and wanted nothing more to do with him or his pecker. She called him a week later telling him there was a skirt she wanted if he had any money she could have. She’d trade for it, promised to make his pecker feel good.
So he dropped Pablo off at his hotel and went to see her, explained what he wanted her to do with the phone, told her not to turn it off and always answer it. She wanted three bills for the service so they bargained and he got her to answer the phone and a blow-job.
No, the problem would come if Pablo asked for the money. He still had two or three more weeks, but maybe Pablo wanted to start seeing the juice on it. What he’d have to do tomorrow is go on down to the farmhouse and sell the idea to that freaky blond family. Pablo’s visit would be good for that. Then somehow get the TV star away from Pablo and head to the bank, get the money and pay Pablo to fuck off out of his life.
He heard the screen door swing open, and the dogs started barking. He heard Hector in the other room, being real friendly with the dogs, trying to sound like a Hispanic gangster, calling the dogs ‘essays’ and ‘homeys.’
Cesar flung the sheet off, his bad mood worse, and went and stood in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his white tank top, trying to act tough in his boxers.
Hector read his mood. The smile disappeared from his face as he stood up. He reached to the side and opened the door, letting the dogs out. Gave Cesar a look to challenge him. He heard the dogs barking at the sound of a car backing out of his drive, loud Spanish music blaring from the stereo.
