The Hard Bounce

by Todd Robinson

  “Not a bad idea, that. When can you come over?”

  “I can get there by nine.”

  Nine. That would leave me a little over an hour. “Sounds like a plan. Oh, and bring her a change of clothes, if you can.”

  “No trouble at all. I’ll run by The Gap.”

  “You need her size and stuff?”

  “Nope. I’d say she’s about a one. I’ll get a two, just to be safe. See you at nine.”

  “See you.”

  I hung up and started frantically cleaning. I started in the kitchen. Lacking much in the way of cleaning fluids, I just used an old sponge I had in the sink and elbow grease.

  When I made it to the living room, Cassandra was watching a talk show. She looked over and watched my half-assed speed cleaning. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her. “What’s going on?”

  “You know Kelly? Works for your dad?”

  “Yeah, she’s nice.”

  “She’s gonna swing by, hang with us. Maybe you two can talk. You know, girl talk.”

  Cassie made a face.

  “What?”

  “Why can’t I talk to another girl without some guy calling it girl talk?” She folded her arms in feminist self-righteousness.

  Jesus H…

  “I don’t know. It’s just a term. Me and Junior? When we talk, it’s guy talk. I was just projecting. Would you mind helping me clean up a bit?”

  “Why? Trying to impress your girlfriend?”

  My ears went hot. “She’s not my girlfriend,” I said in a tone more appropriate for denying a cootie infestation.

  “Then why are you blushing?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Whatever. It smells funny in here anyway.”

  “What? Hey!”

  The apartment would never get a Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval, but it was as clean as it was going to get by 8:30. I hopped in the shower and gave myself a good scrubbing.

  At five minutes past, Kelly was at the door. Since Kelly hadn’t had dinner, Cassie had a teenager’s bottomless appetite, and I’m a fat fuck in training, we ordered Chinese. The three of us were watching The Simpsons in an awkward quiet when the food arrived. I carried the greasy bags into the living room and heard Kelly opening the kitchen cabinets.

  “Do you have plates?” she yelled toward the door.

  “I have plate.”

  She walked back into the living room. “Why don’t you have plates?”

  “Never needed more than one. How many am I supposed to have?”

  “Three would be nice.”

  I went into the bag and pulled out four Styrofoam plates. “Now we have an extra.”

  She gave Cassandra an exasperated look and stormed back into the kitchen, muttering. I caught the words “bachelor,” “unbelievable,” and, I think, “zoo.” But that could have been “Boo.” Then, louder, “Where are your forks?”

  “I have fork.”

  After we ate, I broke out my beat-up poker set. Kelly had obviously played before, and was good enough to make me nervous. This girl was full of surprises. Cassie had a harder time picking up the game. After dropping another hand, she threw her cards on the table.

  “Poker? Really?”

  “Consider it a life skill I’m teaching you.”

  Kelly didn’t say anything, just gave me a look over her cards.

  “I don’t suppose you have Grand Theft Auto hidden away anywhere.”

  “Nope. All I got are these old analog games.” I dropped the flop cards.

  “He’s old school,” Kelly said, a barb of sarcasm tipping the words.

  Cassie snorted. “You got the old part right.”

  Kelly snickered behind her cards. I glared.

  Cassie snorted another laugh. Then the snort turned into a sniff—which then turned into a stuttering intake of breath.

  Uh-oh.

  Before I found a new way to look uncomfortable, Kelly whisked Cassie away into the bathroom and closed the door. Why is it always the bathroom with women? Mysteries upon mysteries.

  Left to my own devices, I walked out onto the porch to smoke. Hippie Phil was there, as always. I gave him a cigarette, and he nodded thanks. We both sat, puffing away in silence. He spoke first. “Woman trouble?”

  I blew out a long breath and chuckled. “Brother, if you only knew.”

  Three cigarettes later, I went back inside and paced. What was going on in there? I sat at the table, picking at some teriyaki beef, when I heard the bathroom door open and shut again. My watch said it was just past midnight. They’d been in the bathroom for an hour and a half. Good thing I didn’t have to piss.

  Kelly came into the kitchen and sat opposite me. She talked in a hushed tone. “She’s a sweet kid.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she’s hurt and confused to beat the band.”

  I already knew that, but I figured Kelly already knew that I knew. “So, what’s going on?”

  “It’s a girl thing. She just needed another girl to talk to about it.”

  “So… we gonna have a little pajama party tonight?” I asked with my best devilish grin.

  “You wish,” she said.

  My devilish grin deflated into an idiot frown. “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ll stay a bit longer, but I should be heading home sooner than later.”

  “Can’t you stay here? With her? We have all the modern amenities. Phone. Hot and cold running water. Uh, me?” Until Kelly said she was going to leave, I hadn’t realized how terrified I was of being left alone with an emotional teenage girl.

  Kelly curled her lip in an evil smirk that made my devilish grin look saintly. Lord, she was cute. “A tempting offer and one that I may take you up on later this week, but it might confuse the issue at hand.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I think that Miss Cassandra has a tiny bit of a crush on you.”

  I felt the blood gush up from my chest and into my head. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” She clearly and smugly enjoyed my discomfort.

  “You… you can’t leave me with her, then. I mean, you can’t leave her… aw, shit.”

  “Life is so tough for you hunka-hunkas, isn’t it?” she said, pinching my cheek. Not only was she enjoying my embarrassment, but she did Elvis better than I did, too.

  “Nobody likes a smartass, Reese.”

  She laughed evilly as she strolled out of the kitchen.

  My only recourse was to stare at her ass once again with all my might. That would show her.

  Ten minutes later, Kelly was yawning and ready to go home just as Junior pulled up in front. I was relieved. Any bouncer will tell you, backup is always appreciated.

  I walked Kelly out to her car. “So give me a call tomorrow and we’ll make the arrangements.” I leaned in to give her a kiss goodbye, but she pulled back.

  “Un-unh. Cassie might be watching,” she said, pressing a hug tightly against me, enjoying the tease. She winked and blew a kiss at me as she drove away.

  I needed a cold, cold shower.

  Instead, I went back in and sat at the table. Junior had taken Kelly’s spot in the poker game. He was rearranging his cards and grumbling about the miserable hand she’d left him. “Jeez, I can’t even see what the hell she was aiming for here. Can we start over?”

  “The hand’s already started. Play what you’re dealt,” I said.

  He grumbled some more, but played on. Cassandra won the hand, but kept quiet. Something was making her uncomfortable. As Junior shuffled the worn cards, she said softly, “I’m sorry I zapped you.”

  Junior shrugged, but didn’t look up from the cards. “S’okay. Besides, I got you first. It was only right that you got me, too.” He started dealing the cards. “And I haven’t slept that good in a long time.”

  Cassie smiled and took her cards off the table.

  “Does this mean I get to bite you on the hand now?” I asked.

  She delicately offered her hand and batted her eyes at me.

  D
ammit.

  I grabbed her wrist and blew a wet raspberry on her knuckles.

  “Ewwww!” she squealed as she wiped the spit on my shirtsleeve.

  “There. We’re even.”

  After a few more hands, Cassandra looked like she was having trouble focusing on the cards.

  “You want to hit the hay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said drowsily.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Me and Junior are gonna play some more cards.”

  “Mmm. Okay.” She yawned wide enough to swallow a football and shuffled into the living room.

  “Nice kid,” Junior said, as he flipped the cards out of the deck. “But it’s over.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “You hearing me, Boo?” He stared into his cards as he said it, but the words were weighted with lead. “We hand her over to Pops, hand the address to Dog, and cash our check.”

  “I wasn’t…” I couldn’t think of a good way to end the sentence, so I just said it again. “I wasn’t.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  You can’t argue with someone who knows you as deeply as Junior knows me, so I didn’t bother.

  I reached into my pocket and handed him two of the crumpled singles.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “Your half of the fee for job number two. Enjoy the riches.”

  His lips pressed together white. “You lousy fuck.”

  I lay my cards on the table. “Triple eights. What you got?”

  “I hate you.”

  Junior and I agreed to split shifts on the recliner next to the couch Cassie was sleeping on, still not completely of the belief that Cassie wouldn’t make a bolt in the middle of the night. Junior got my bed first. As I quietly stepped into the living room, I looked at Cassandra asleep on the couch. The Boy was on his knees next to her head, running his fingers gently through her hair. The black strands over her forehead didn’t stir as his hands softly smoothed them over. With a sad expression, The Boy looked up at me standing in the dim yellow hallway light. His small mouth bowed downward and he shook his head.

  “I know,” I whispered as I pulled the throw blanket over her thin arms. “I know.”

  As quietly as I could, I slid the chair into the recline position and tried to read an old Needle magazine by the streetlight. Less than half a story in, I’d given myself a massive eyestrain headache. I closed my eyes tight, trying to will the headache away. Instead, I fell right asleep.

  It certainly came as no surprise to me that I had a dirty, dirty dream about Kelly. My dream finally nude-ified the body I’d been thinking consistently about for the last week. And for once, my overtaxed and overdisturbed brain didn’t disappoint by giving her va-jay-jay fangs or replacing my dick with a dachshund. All was as it was supposed to be and where it was supposed to be.

  I had surrendered myself entirely to the dream when just enough reality crept in through the sleep that I realized too goddamn slowly that something was, in fact, manipulating my dick.

  I bolted awake, my hands touching skin. Reactively, I pushed it off. Cassie hit the floor with a thump, falling in enough light from the street for me to see she was naked.

  I covered myself, my pants unbuttoned, underwear open. “What the fuck?”

  Cassie scrambled off the floor and pulled the throw blanket over herself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Jesus, kid. What the fuck?”

  She pulled herself into the corner of the couch, huddling against herself under the blanket. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

  “Thought what? What the fuck could you have been thinking?” I couldn’t suppress the anger in my voice. Some of it reflected my roiling shame at enjoying whatever was happening down there before reality threw a bucket of ice water on my libido.

  “I thought… I thought you liked me.” She didn’t cry. She just said the words softly, coldly. I was expecting tears. Tears would have been expected. Tears wouldn’t have been as disturbing as the cold.

  “Listen, kid—”

  “Stop calling me that,” she hissed.

  I heard my bedroom door slam open. “Yo, Boo! We okay?”

  “All under control, Junior. I— I just rolled off the chair.”

  “Dumbass. You want to switch off?”

  I looked at Cassie. The kid we’d played poker with, who giggled when I blew a raspberry on her hand, was gone. Fury at my rejection burned through her eyes. She smirked. “Why don’t we do that, Boo? Why don’t you let your friend have a turn?” She let the blanket slip from one shoulder, falling below her breast.

  No way in hell was I going to subject Junior to this. “All good, buddy.”

  Cassie curled a lip and picked up my pack of smokes, popped one into her mouth. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she smoked, too. “Change your mind?” she whispered, leaning back, letting the blanket slide lower.

  I picked her clothes up off the floor, tossed them roughly into her face. “No, I haven’t… kid. Put your clothes on and stop embarrassing yourself.”

  “Fuck you,” she said. But she pulled the shirt over her head. “What’s your use for me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You said Derek used me. You think my father doesn’t use me? You think he has any other purpose for me in his life than to be his pretty little photo-op? Everybody uses me. What’s your use? I don’t think I’m going to serve your political career; you don’t want to use my pussy—”

  “Stop it.”

  “What is it, Boo? How are you using me?”

  I didn’t reply, just snatched my smokes away from her and lit my own. She sat in the corner of the couch and glared at me. I sat on the recliner and glared back. I won out. Her eyelids sagged and her head drooped before she even finished the cigarette. I plucked the cigarette from her hands as she nodded off, and ground it out in the ashtray.

  “Sorry. Mm… sorry,” she murmured as she leaned over into sleep. One tear ran from her eye, tracked over her nose. I pulled the blanket over her again.

  I didn’t sleep any more that night.

  “Wow, Boo. Rough night?” Kelly showed up early with a bag of bagels and spreads.

  “Just long,” I mumbled. I’d taken a quick shower before Kelly showed and still had bags under my eyes that looked like five pounds of shit stuffed into a two-pound sack. Adding to my confusion was the return of Cassandra the fourteen-year-old. When Junior finally woke, she gave him a spritely kiss on the cheek, then giggled the morning away while he showed her how to make a proper cup of coffee. She didn’t look at or talk to me all that much.

  We ate quietly while waiting for Donnelly to arrive. And, as Cassie happily munched on her sesame bagel, I tried to find the crack in this personality. One of them—the happy kid or the head-case young woman—had to be a façade. But for the life of me, they both felt like the same kid. The right kid. Even the wrong Cassie felt like the right kid.

  When the black sedan pulled up in front of the house, I was tired. It was hot, I was feeling beat into dust, and I was ready to get this experience wrapped up.

  The car sat there for a minute, engine running. The three of us watched from the window. What now? Was I supposed to walk her out and just drop her in the back seat?

  Fuck you, I thought. Come in and get her.

  Barnes finally got out of the driver’s side and opened the back door. I felt bad for my standoffish behavior when I got a good look at Donnelly. It had only been days since I’d last seen him at his condo, but it could have been years. The man looked as tired as I did, worse even. The strain of Cassandra’s absence had taken a far greater toll on him than he’d let on.

  “Daddy,” Cassandra said softly, crying. With a bolt, she was out the door, running to him. His expression when he saw her made my throat lump up. I walked to the doorway and watched the most feared lawman in Boston standing with his daughter in his arms, showering the top of her head with kisses.

  Barnes walked over, face set li
ke marble. His eyes were unreadable under his mirrored sunglasses. He held out a thin envelope—too thin to contain both the money and the information that was hinted at. Completely without expression, he said, “Nice job.”

  I put my fingers around the envelope, but he held on to it for a second longer.

  “For a piece of shit bouncer.” Barnes took back the envelope and tossed it into my chest. It fluttered to my feet.

  I set my jaw.

  My eyes never left his face.

  Junior picked up the envelope, said, “Does this mean we’re not spending Thanksgiving together?” He handed me the envelope, I’m sure in order to have his hands free.

  Barnes glared. Then he went back to the car.

  Cassie was looking out the window, eyes on the envelope in my hands. Then she looked at me, her eyes radiating hurt and understanding.

  She finally knew what my use for her was. I wanted to say something. To tell her she was seeing it all wrong. I didn’t say anything, even goodbye.

  Was she wrong?

  The ride pulled away, taking them back into their own world.

  Never even got a goodbye.

  “Money!” Junior yelled, shocking me from my guilt.

  “I’m going to use the little girl’s room and let you boys have your moment,” Kelly said with a smirk.

  “What kind of moment do you think we’re going to have?”

  “With that much enthusiasm, I’m not sure,” she said, walking into the apartment.

  “Lemme see it,” Junior said, half-running to the steps.

  “Here.” I handed him the envelope.

  He held the envelope tenderly, as though he couldn’t decide whether to tear it open or start tongue-kissing the flap. “I can’t open it,” he said.

  “Give it to me, then.”

  “No! No. No, I’ll do it.” He ran the envelope under his nose, breathing it in. “Mmm. Nothing like the smell of Cheddar in the morning. Smells like… victory.” Carefully, he ran a finger under the fold and pulled it open. With the same care, he pulled two pieces of paper from the envelope. He chucked the one that wasn’t a cashier’s check to the ground.

  “Dude,” he said with more than a little awe.

  “What?”

  “Dude.”

  “Dude?”

  “This is one big check, my friend.” He turned the check around. On the paper was the amount of $30,000. Five grand more than agreed upon. More money than we’d ever seen, much less had, in our entire lives.