Rules of the Road

by Lucian K. Truscott

  Johnny Gee looked up, startled.

  “My name’s Johnny. Johnny Gee. This is Howie Radian. What’s yours?”

  “Sam Butterfield. I’m from Hancock County, north of here. We’re headed down towards Marion, aren’t we? I mean, if we keep going straight, that is.”

  “Yeah. We sure are. But I thought you didn’t know where we were going. Hey. Don’t forget to turn right at the four-way stop.”

  “That’ll take us over towards Annoyance, won’t it?”

  “Yeah. So how you know your way around here all of a sudden, anyway?”

  “I used to race down south of Marion every summer at the dirt track. The best driver around here was a good friend of mine. Dave Spicer. Owned a Shell station and a body shop. He drove an old Mercury that was painted bright purple. Kept it shiny, too.”

  He peered into the darkness looking for the four-way stop. There it was.

  “How much farther?” he asked.

  “ ’Bout ten miles. You better step on it. Howie’s coughing up a lot of blood, and he’s not breathing so good.”

  Sam put the accelerator to the floor. He could hear the labored breathing in the back seat, and it made him nervous, so he flipped on the high beams and concentrated on driving. It amazed him how a car at speed at night becomes a capsule apart in time and space. All you could see of the outside world was a narrow corridor of illuminated blacktop on the other side of the hood in the headlights. Everything else just rushed past in a dark, silent blur. You could hear the engine and a whisper of wind from the windows, closed against the night. Inside, the air was almost stuffy. Outside, it rushed by at sixty, seventy, eighty-five miles an hour, powerful enough to knock you down if you were standing still. But in a car at eighty-five miles an hour, it was the rest of the world that stood still on the other side of the windshield, still and dark and cold on this fall night going places you’ve never been with people you’ve never known.

  “It’s right up ahead,” said Johnny Gee, leaning forward for a better look. “See the lights? That’s Annoyance. Take the first left, just past the bank, then take the first right. The police station and clinic will be at the end of the block.”

  Sam made the turns, looking for the clinic. He glanced at his watch. It was just about time for the national news to come on TV, and the little town looked as if it had been asleep for hours. He pulled up in front of a broken backlit plastic sign that read MED CLINIC.

  “Gimme a hand,” said Johnny Gee. Sam got out and opened the back door. Johnny Gee handed out the limp body of Howie Radian, and Sam grabbed him under the arms and pulled him from the car. When his feet dropped from the car seat to the ground, Howie Radian opened his eyes, turned his head, and saw where he was.

  “Get … my … brother,” he whispered.

  “Sure thing, Howie,” said Johnny Gee, wrapping his arm around the older man’s waist, helping to carry him into the clinic. A nurse opened the glass doors, pushing a gurney.

  Johnny Gee grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled him into the hall.

  “I’m going to call Howie’s brother. He’s chief of police here. Why don’t you wait here and give them any help they need. It doesn’t look like too many medical types are on duty in this burg tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  “Listen, if the doctor asks about his injuries, tell him Howie was beat up by some punks. We’ll get everything straightened out when his brother gets here.” Johnny Gee was tense, shifting from one foot to the other, looking into the emergency room nervously. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. He was going to have to come up with some answers soon, and he didn’t have them.

  Johnny Gee strode through the door to the clinic’s reception area, his face swollen, shirtfront covered with blood. A nurse at the desk. She was in her fifties, with a face like a bulldog and bleached-blond hair teased into an unkempt beehive.

  “Can I use your phone?” asked Johnny Gee.

  The nurse had the medic thing down pat: long on attitude, short on emotion. She didn’t even take the cigarette out of her mouth when she spoke.

  “What for?”

  “There’s been an accident. I just delivered an injured man into your emergency room. They’re working on him now. I’ve got to use the phone and notify Vincent Radian now, because that’s his brother Howie in there, or you’re going to find yourself picking up your last paycheck when this is over.”

  The nurse paused and looked Johnny Gee up and down. She took the cigarette from her mouth, carefully stubbed it out in an ashtray, and picked up the phone.

  “I’ll make the call. What’d you say your name was?” The nurse’s tone was measured and low. She acted as if she knew that the man standing before her spent the better part of his time up to no good, but the mention of the chief’s brother caught her up short, and she held her tongue.

  “You gonna call the chief?”

  “That’s the general idea,” said the nurse.

  “Tell him Johnny Gee’s with his brother. Tell him Howie’s been injured pretty badly. He’d better get here as quick as he can.”

  The nurse dialed the phone and got an answer. She asked for the chief of police, then hung up.

  “They said he’s gone home, and he doesn’t want any calls unless it’s a genuine emergency.”

  “Call them back and tell them … tell them to call Vincent and tell him that it’s an emergency involving his brother. He’s hurt pretty bad.”

  The nurse dialed the phone again and relayed the message.

  “He’ll be on his way in five, ten minutes,” she said.

  “How long before he gets here?”

  “If he turns his lights and siren on, maybe half an hour, maybe forty minutes. He lives way on the other side of the county.”

  “Thanks a lot. I’m going to get back, see how Howie’s making out.” Johnny Gee started for the door.

  “Did you fill out an admitting form yet?” The nurse smiled thinly and shoved a sheaf of papers across the desk.

  “I’ll wait till the chief gets here. It’s … uh … his brother. I think he’ll want to handle it.”

  “Whatever.” The nurse swiveled in her chair and picked up a newspaper.

  Johnny Gee stepped outside into the chilly autumn night and lit a cigarette. He had to think. Howie’s brother on the way … the guy getting antsy … he had thirty minutes, tops. He needed to talk to Howie. He had to find out what was going on, and he had to do it quick.

  The driver was still standing in the doorway of the emergency room. Johnny Gee approached quietly and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He jumped sideways and landed in a crouch.

  “Hey, man, it’s just me,” said Johnny Gee. “You look pale. Why don’t you step outside for a breath. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  “What’s going on?” Sam was embarrassed at his reaction, but not much.

  “The chief of police will be here in thirty minutes. Tell you what. Why don’t you walk down the street and see if you can get us some coffee. There’s one of those stop-and-shops or shop-and-gos, or whatever, around the corner at the end of the block. Take a little air. It’ll do you some good, and I sure could use the coffee.”

  “Okay,” Sam said, pausing. “But when I get back, I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know how you’re going to get me on a bus to Fort Campbell. You got that?”

  “Sure,” said Johnny Gee. “Now, don’t forget. Coffee, cream and sugar for me. And get some air. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  Sam walked out of the clinic and headed down the street. Johnny Gee watched him until he turned the comer. He could hear Howie coughing through the emergency room door. He didn’t sound good, but it was better than not hearing anything at all. He pushed through the swinging door. They had moved him from the gurney onto an examination table. He was lying on his back, shirtless. His bruised and bloodied chest had been swabbed with some kind of orange disinfectant and dressed. His face had been bandaged. He was already bleeding through th
e fresh dressings.

  “Howie, can you hear me?” asked Johnny Gee, stepping to his side. The nurse must have been going through the clinic looking for the doctor, because no one was with him.

  “That you, Johnny?” Bandages covered both eyes. The old man lifted his right hand weakly.

  “Yeah. I’m right here.” Johnny Gee took his hand and placed it back on the examining table.

  “You’re not looking so good,” said Howie with a low chuckle.

  “This ain’t no time for jokes, man,” said Johnny Gee. “I want to know what happened back there at the diner, and you better talk fast, ’fore that nurse returns.”

  The old man turned his head and coughed. Blood mixed with saliva sprayed the curtain separating the examining tables in the emergency room.

  “I don’t feel so good,” he said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

  “You’ll live. Mainly because that guy came out of nowhere.”

  “Who is he?” Howie reached up and lifted a corner of bandage so he could see Johnny Gee.

  “I’ll tell you after you explain what you was doin’ at the diner. What went wrong back there? Who were those guys? They woulda killed you, you know that, man? They were serious. They were shootin’ at us when we pulled you outa there. Two of ’em. They had guns and they were shootin’ at us, Howie. We’ve done a lot of shit together, but I never been shot at before, Howie. You know what I mean? We pulled a scam here, a scam there, but never any guns. Never.”

  “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

  “That’s not good enough.” Johnny Gee grabbed the old man by the shoulder and squeezed. He let out a yelp of pain.

  “Okay. Okay. Let go the shoulder.” Johnny Gee relaxed his grip.

  “You heard of Harlan Greene? Hamilton County?”

  “I can’t say as I have,” said Johnny Gee.

  “County leader of Hamilton County, and he runs about five other counties. He’s one of the most powerful men in the state.”

  “So?”

  “So I borrowed some money from him a while back.”

  “How much money?”

  “Fifty thousand.”

  “And that’s the debt you were supposed to pay off tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you didn’t have it.”

  “Not all of it. I already paid twenty. I was supposed to pay the rest tonight. I asked him for another two weeks, and that Lou went crazy.”

  “Lou?”

  “Lou Bosco. He’s Harlan’s collection agency.”

  “Who were the other guys?”

  “I don’t know. A couple of his punks. I think I recognized one of them. I had him arrested one election day.”

  “What are you doing fifty grand in the hole to that asshole from Hamilton County, Howie?”

  The old man coughed and took a deep, wheezing breath before he answered.

  “I had a chance to get in on a mineral lease thing. I needed the money. Thought we could turn ’em over in a couple of months. How did I know the bottom was going to drop out of the oil market?”

  “I don’t feature you in the oil hustle, Howie. That ain’t your style.”

  “I should have talked to you in May, Johnny.”

  “Guys like us shouldn’t lose touch, man. We ain’t talked in, what? Two, three months?”

  “More like six,” said Howie, picking up the corner of his bandage again, so he could see his friend. “Now tell me about the guy who bailed us out.”

  “Never seen him before. He’s in the Army, from over to Hancock County. He was on his way to Kentucky tonight. I’ve got to be gettin’ him back on a bus pretty quick.”

  The old man grabbed Johnny Gee’s hand and pulled himself up on his elbow.

  “Hey. Lie down, Howie,” said Johnny Gee. “Don’t put no strain on that gut of yours. It’s looked better.”

  “You got to get out of the county. Tonight. Harlan don’t give a fuck, Johnny. You’ve got to get out of here, as far away as fast as you can.”

  “This guy Harlan Greene … is he connected?” asked Johnny Gee.

  “More ways than one,” said Howie. “He’s got every sheriff in this part of the state on his payroll. Everybody and his brother is going to be looking for you. You’ve got to get out of here and go south. Take the guy with you. Take the car. You leave it here, they’ll find me for sure.”

  “Your Cadillac?”

  “Hand me my jacket,” said Howie, reaching toward the chair in the corner of the cubicle. Johnny Gee picked up the torn and bloody sports jacket and held it next to his friend. Howie reached into the inside breast pocket. He pulled out a wad and peeled off five bills and handed them to Johnny Gee.

  “Here’s a hundred. Take it. First thing tomorrow morning, put the Caddy in a pay lot somewhere. You know, in a corner. Slap some mud on the plates, so you can’t make out the numbers. You call me and tell me where it’s at later. Keep going. Drop that guy off at a bus depot. Don’t tell him any more than you have to. For God’s sake, don’t let him call the cops. He calls the law, Greene will nail you like you were standing still.”

  “Jesus, Howie, I don’t know about this shit… .”

  “Listen, Johnny. You don’t have time to waste. Unless you get your ass out of this state before dawn, he’s gonna get you. I know Harlan Greene. He won’t stop until he gets me. And if he finds you, he’ll use you to find me. He’s a bad actor. You don’t know how bad.”

  The old man took a deep breath and grimaced.

  “When you get set up out of state, give me a call. I’ll send you a couple of grand to get you started.”

  “Sure, Howie. Sure.”

  There was a whoosh of air as the swinging doors opened. The nurse returned with a tall, bearded doctor in tow. Johnny Gee quickly stuffed the bills in his pocket.

  “Well. How are we getting along, my friend?” said the doctor in tones of mock familiarity. Johnny Gee stepped out of the curtained cubicle and edged toward the door. Howie lifted his bandage and looked at the doctor. Then he dropped the bandage and waved his hand in a get-out-of-here motion.

  Johnny Gee turned on his heel, pushed through the emergency room door, and met Sam coming in.

  “Thanks for the coffee, man,” he said, taking the plastic cup. “Let’s go.”

  OUTSIDE, IT HAD turned from chilly to cold. The town of Annoyance seemed to be lit by the glow of color televisions in living room windows up and down the street. Every driveway contained a car and a pickup truck, and most had a bass boat tucked up against the house. Falling leaves whistled along the gutters on crosswind puffs of night air.

  “What time is it?” asked Johnny Gee, lighting a cigarette.

  “It’s just after eight,” Sam said.

  “They’re watching ‘Cheers.’ No, that comes on next. Am I right?”

  “You’re right, but you’re not making any sense. What’s going? How’s your friend?”

  “He’ll be all right. The doctor’s with him now. They cleaned him up. He’s hurt bad, but he’ll make it. He’s a tough old dude.” Johnny Gee pulled his suit lapels up around his neck against the cold.

  “You got any clothes in that satchel of yours?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Shorts, socks. Couple of shirts. Toilet articles.”

  “You think I could borrow one of those shirts?” He opened his suit jacket. His shirt was covered with dried blood.

  “Sure. It’s in the car.”

  “C’mon then. I’m freezin’,” said Johnny Gee. He climbed in on the passenger side and Sam got in behind the wheel.

  “Start her up. Let’s have some heat,” said Johnny Gee as he slipped out of his jacket and shirt. Sam fished in his bag and handed over a sweatshirt.

  “This is it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Guess it’ll have to do,” said Johnny Gee, pulling on the sweatshirt. He wrapped the suit jacket around his shoulders and flipped the visor mirror into view.

  “It don’t look so bad. Kinda European, know w
hat I mean? Italian-like.”

  “Now that you’re sartorially splendid, do you think you could explain to me what happened back at that diner tonight? I want to know what caused the fight, and I want to make sure the police have been informed, and then I want to get myself on the next bus to Fort Campbell. I was glad to give you guys a hand with those punks, but I’d like to make the proper reports and get back to my own life now.”

  “I already called the police. Howie’s brother is chief of police here, and he’s on his way. I’ve got twenty bucks for your trouble. How’s that sound, my friend?” Johnny Gee grinned ear-to-ear. The intent of the grin was to relax the driver. His infectious smile had gotten him out of more than one bad spot over the years, but something told him he was going to need more than charm to get through this night.

  “I don’t need any twenty dollars. All I need is to get back on the next southbound bus.”

  “I don’t think the bus is such a good idea,” Johnny Gee said, the grin evaporating from his face.

  “What’s the matter with the bus?”

  “They’ll be watching the buses,” said Johnny Gee. “And besides, there’s no more tonight.” He pushed the window button and flipped out the cigarette. He tried to blow a smoke ring, but a breeze sucked the smoke out the window.

  “Watching the bus? Who’s watching the bus?”

  Johnny Gee turned and looked at Sam. It was right that he come clean, and now was probably the time.

  “Who do you think? The assholes who shot at us, that’s who. The assholes who beat Howie half to death. You don’t think they’re gonna be lookin’ for us? We didn’t exactly exit the scene on the best of terms, man.”

  “What’d your friend tell you in there?” Sam goosed the accelerator. They were still sitting outside the clinic, headlights off. It was warm inside the car, and he wasn’t going anywhere until this skinny stranger told him what was really going on.

  “Okay. My friend, Howie, he owed some money to some guys he shouldn’t have been borrowin’ money from. He paid back some of it a couple of weeks ago. He owed the rest tonight, and he didn’t have it. They got rough with him. That’s when you and I came in. I didn’t know what was happening. I swear. He’s a friend. We’re havin’ coffee, next thing I know I look out the window and they’re using his ass to resurface the parkin’ lot.”