She laughed. “Seriously, I could help you get licensed as a private investigator.”
I chuckled.
“I’m serious!” she said and slapped my thigh again “You could solve crimes on the side.”
“Your crimes? So you can gain accolades in Doral while I do all your dirty work?”
She hit me in the shoulder. She can hit me in the shoulder anytime.
“Shut up,” she said with a giggle.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I said. “Me all stamped, approved, all that B.S. When are you going to figure out I’m not a stamped nor approved guy? I don’t work well with authority.”
She nodded while laughing.
“But seriously,” she said and touched my hand.
As we touched, we both felt it. That same magnetic field again. Our eyes met and we stayed like that for a few heartbeats.
“It wouldn’t work,” I said, pulling back my hand. “Like you said, you have issues. I have issues.”
She sat up, her shoulders squared. Her face turned serious.
“You’re not going back up there to West Lido Drive, are you?” she said.
I twitched.
“I—uh—” I said.
“Get out,” she said. There was sudden venom in her voice.
“Hey!” I said, as she leaned across me and threw the door open, pushing me out.
“Get out! Just get out! Get out of fucking Miami! Get out! Go! I thought you had changed. I was wrong. You’re still the moron I pulled over that night. Go!”
I grabbed her hand. She kicked my shin and pushed me out the door. I nearly fell on the sidewalk. She reached over and pulled the door shut.
I got up and was about to lean in the window to say something, but she hit the gas and screeched off.
I paused for a moment in the dirty little courtyard before going in. The black SUV was parked across the street by the corner, engine running.
Sorry to disappoint you, Sofia. I’ve got one more task to perform in Miami.
Only one.
FORTY-SIX
“OKAY,” I SAID TO JENNY, “I GIVE UP. WHAT’S WRONG?”
I picked up a tray of dirty glasses and put them into the bus tray.
“Nothing,” she said, standing that way she stands on one leg when she’s mad. She counted her tips.
“Did you break up with Matt again?” I said.
“No. We’re back together. We’re happy. I love him.”
“Okay. So what is it?”
“Just shut up, okay? Just shut up and leave me alone.” She grabbed her receipts and cash and stormed out back, blonde ponytail in a flip-floppy huff.
I had hoped it wouldn’t end this way, but what can I do? I already said goodbye to Paulie and Trina last night. This was my last shift at Cap’n Jack’s Seafood and Bar.
A cheer erupted from the afternoon beer guzzlers as the Marlins scored.
“Did you see that play?” said Marty from Jersey.
“No,” I lied.
“Fucking amazing,” he said with a nod to set him up again. I poured a Bud Light draft and placed it on a napkin in front of him.
I looked around for Jenny and wondered if she left out back. Whatever.
I tied up the trash bag and walked out into the afternoon swelter.
I opened the gate and got that old familiar stab, demanding a cigarette. I inhaled a deep breath of viscous Miami air and breathed it out on a ten count. Somewhat better, but I need to find some real air soon.
I tossed the trash in the bin, remembering both Pam Hayes standing on the step and Eddie Corrado making my nose a landing strip right on this spot. Was that only last week? Feels like ten years ago.
Then I turned to see Jenny on the front step.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
“I’ll see you.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you.”
She frowned at me and stormed off, her bubbly butt bouncing in those tight jean cutoffs. Doesn’t hurt to look.
I locked the gate and turned and she was back, maybe an inch from me. She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down to her mouth, kissing me as fully as a person can be kissed. I think I felt her tongue in the back of my brain.
I let her.
“You suck!” she said, pushing me away. “You’re going away. Not fair.”
“Jenny,” I said, “it’s 2017. We can text, SnapFace, InstaTwit, or whatever you kids do these days.”
“It’s not the same!”
“I know. You’ll get over it. You have Matt.”
“Matt sucks.”
“You just said you love him and you’re happy.”
She moved forward and threw her arms around me, a nice warm hug. I hugged her back.
“Take care of yourself,” she said.
“You too,” I said. “Don’t ever change.”
She smiled. “Come back and visit, okay?”
I nodded, although I knew I’d probably never see her again. She turned and walked away again. I went back inside.
My final shift was the usual night of deep-fried beer-pouring adventure. I had to break up one fight and toss out two guys who argued over the size of their outboard engines.
At last call, Marty from Jersey turned half-away from the big-screen TV and said, “So you’re leaving, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“That guy Bruno—I don’t know. Not the same. I may move up to The Abbey full-time. Well, anyhoo, best of luck, yeah?”
He reached out his hand. I shook it.
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks, Marty.”
He turned his attention back to the TV for his final beer. That was the deepest conversation I ever had with Marty from Jersey.
He and the others left and I shut the TV off. Pablo had already gone home without saying goodbye. I was about to lock the door when Bri and Sash walked in.
They were both in skin-tight sequin dresses, Bri glittering in blue and Sash glittering in orange.
“Hi, madman,” said Bri.
“I’m closing the bar,” I said. “It’s nice to see you two and all but I’ve got to lock up.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to fuck two horny girls on barstools like they do in porn videos?”
Sash locked the door. Both of their dresses fell to the floor almost immediately afterward. They wore nothing underneath.
“Hey!” I said. “Put those back on.”
“You don’t really want us to put anything back on,” Bri said as they both sauntered close to me and dropped to their knees. Then, they began to claw at my jeans.
The adolescent in me got all excited, but I told him to grow up.
“Put your clothes on,” I said, backing up.
They both pouted like I hurt their feelings.
“Look,” I said, “I need to apologize. I took advantage of both of you and I feel really shitty about it. You should both be with boys your own age. What happened never should have happened. I’m better than that.”
“You’re apologizing for fucking us?” Bri said. “Seriously?”
“Yes. Well—no. I mean—you’re taking it the wrong way. You’re both amazing. It’s just—I can’t do the hookup thing. Your generation treats sex like it’s eating a candy. It should be more than that. Look at yourselves in the mirror sometime. It’s going to get old and empty fast. People are going to use you and someday you’re not going to be able to do the things you do now and it’s going to suck. You’re going to walk down the street and not every guy is going to fall all over you. There’s more to life than this. Not to mention accidental pregnancy and STDs.”
Bri put her hand up as if to shut me up.
“I’ve heard enough,” she said, standing up, clearly angry. “Come on, Sash, let’s go.”
They put their dresses back on. Bri was seething.
Bri led Sash to the door. Sash sheepishly glanced back at me. Oddly, even though I thought I was trying to
impart wisdom, I felt like the worst human being alive.
Then, Bri turned back and stomped right up to me.
“You have no right to lecture me or Sash!” she said with her finger in my face. “Who do you think you are, my father? You’re so not fun. You have no right to tell me or her what to do or how to think. Life is short, old man. My mom paints pictures of ducks while drinking wine because nobody wants to fuck her anymore. Well, guess what? That’s going to be me someday, wishing I could go back and look like this for just one night. I—unlike you—am taking every opportunity to enjoy life. I’m going to get as much as I can while I look like this—and you, buddy, just lost out. Come on, Sash.”
I started to speak but she interrupted me and said, “Don’t even—”
Bri stormed out the door. Sash followed, paused, and then turned back. She silently mouthed call me with a phone gesture and a wave.
“Sash!” called Bri from outside. Sash went out and closed the door.
Well, I sure told them, didn’t I?
I locked up one last time, feeling like a very old man indeed, but okay with it.
I took the long way home, trying to forget that entire conversation by absorbing all the sights, sounds, and smells of my final late-night stroll through the heart of South Beach. The night was its usual liquid steam full of the smells of tropical hedonism.
As I turned onto Jefferson Ave, I heard a clanging sound coming from behind a tree.
No, it couldn’t be.
I ran across the street toward it. This time, DaShawn was faster than me and got out into the middle of the street before I could get to him. He said nothing as he pedaled away on somebody’s bike.
I shook my head, getting a strange feeling that I’m not used to. Like my work here isn’t done. Like maybe I should stick around.
I shrugged it off and continued up Meridian Ave back to my apartment. Once inside, I undressed and lay on the airbed. I looked around for my little lizard buddy. I hadn’t seen him in a while. He must have moved out.
Don’t blame him.
FORTY-SEVEN
I TRIMMED MY HAIR. NOT MUCH, JUST A NEATENING. Still not short like it used to be. I showered and shaved, even the goatee. I slicked my hair back and looked in the bathroom mirror. I hardly recognized myself in the new white suit I bought yesterday from David at the spaceship. I looked damned good, in fact. Don Johnson, kiss my ass.
I packed my duffel bag and left the apartment keys on the countertop for the landlord with a thank you note.
I walked to the Apostolic Rescue Mission Church under bright sunshine and a clear blue sky. I didn’t feel the heat today. Maybe I’m getting used to it. I hope I’m not getting used to it.
Today the sign read:
AIN’T NOBODY LOVE YOU BETTER THAN THE LORD
ALL WELCOME SUN 10:00 AM
THE REV LUTHER WIL I AMS
I stood behind an oak tree and watched Luther as he greeted the parishioners. I really didn’t want to do this, especially considering where I was going after this. But a promise is a promise.
I waited until the door closed and I the first hymn started. I recognized it from my childhood in a tiny white church on a hill in a tiny Georgia town: “Just a Closer Walk With Thee.”
I took a deep breath, picked up my duffel, and walked across the street. I went up the steps, opened the door, and tiptoed inside.
Candace led the tiny choir, who were still off-key—although the piano sounded better. DaShawn wasn’t there. I took a seat in the back. If Luther noticed I was here, he gave no indication.
Once the hymn ended, Luther took the podium and asked everyone to rise in prayer. He was splendid, also in a white suit with a blue shirt and white tie.
As everyone bowed their heads, I looked around. There were about fifty people. One old man in a Stetson had a trembling jaw as he leaned on his cane. Only parts of his face were shaven. A large black woman in a lavender flower-print dress with a big white hat reminded me of a woman I used to know as a kid. A little girl in pigtails smiled at me from the row in front of me. I waved and smiled back.
“Amen,” said everyone in unison and sat.
“Good morning,” said Luther. “Today’s subject is retribution.”
Oh, here we go. Really? Do I have to stay and sit through this?
As if it heard my thoughts, Luther’s wonky eye found me and sliced me open with a deadly stare.
“Let us turn to the words of the Apostle Paul,” he said, “in his Epistle to the Romans, chapter twelve, verse nineteen.”
A rustling sound filled the rafters as everyone took out their Bibles and flipped pages. A boy to my right noticed that I didn’t have one and offered to share. I shook my head with a smile.
“Beloved,” Luther continued, “never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God. For it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine. I will pay them back’, says the Lord.”
And so it went for an hour. Luther was good, I’ll admit. Nobody would suspect that, in less than a minute, he picked the lock of an apartment containing a dead body with me just a few days ago. He was passionate and I sensed he believed every word.
He knew his Bible, too. He had uncovered every verse on vengeance, resentment, bitterness, retribution—you name it. And he lobbed them all in my direction like grenades of salvation. You’d think I would have been uncomfortable, right? But instead, a calmness washed over me. I just sat and listened, drinking it all in.
After a final prayer, Candace stepped back to the piano and banged the keys into a rousing rendition of “Oh Happy Day.” The congregation erupted and got funky. I couldn’t help but smile when the large black woman in the flowered dress let it out. She tipped the scales and may have saved a few souls herself with her amazing voice, shaking her big booty under the dress with a blessed flair.
“Let the Lord walk with you every day,” said Luther as he dismissed the crowd.
I slinked out the door and hustled across the street to my spot behind the oak tree. It was a full thirty minutes before Luther finished shaking hands with everyone. He had several long intense conversations in the tiny little grassy spot with a variety of people of all genders, shapes, and colors. He picked up crying kids and bobbed them up and down until they giggled. He dropped to a knee to talk to an old woman in a wheelchair, cradling her withered hands in his own. He posed for a picture with a young widow who held a portrait of a soldier over the heads of two kids.
Once everyone was gone, he turned toward my hiding spot. I walked out and crossed the street.
“You clean up good,” he said. “Barely recognized you, brother Titus. Almost respectable.”
“You and I should pose for GQ,” I said.
“There’d be a run on white suits. Stores would sell out quick.”
I nodded and laughed. I was having difficulty looking at him for some reason. I focused my attention on an egret feeding on the grass. Then, I summoned the courage and looked into both his eyes. They both looked back at me evenly.
“You leaving,” he said.
“That obvious?” I said. “I need to work on my poker face, apparently.”
“That and the duffel bag. Besides, I know when the Devil been around. You talking to him lately.”
“Used to talk to him all the time,” I said. “He and I had some pretty deep conversations.”
“Used to?”
“Yeah. He’s been quiet lately. Not sure where he went.”
“You did that. He spoke to you and in your own way you said ‘Get thee behind me, Satan’, as did Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Now, put away your need for vengeance and let the Lord save you.”
“I’m tough to save,” I said.
“The Lord saves all,” he said.
“Hope so. Nice service, by the way.”
“Nobody is without sin. Nobody is without redemption. If I can help but even one of God’s children, then I’ve served His purpose for me here on Earth.”
“Sure. Where’s DaShawn?”
Luther bit his lip and looked away.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Up and gone.”
“Stole a bike again last night,” I said. “Quicker this time. Couldn’t stop him.”
Luther gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Harder to help some people than others.”
“Yeah.”
“Heard Tommy was pleased to get his money back.”
“How did you hear that?”
Luther grinned.
“I know everything, remember?” he said. “What did you do with the extra one hundred seventy-five thousand that you forgot to mention to Tommy?”
“His fault,” I said. “He said two million. He should have been more specific. I took out a handful to buy this suit and gave the rest to Tiffany.”
“She going to be okay?”
“I don’t think she’ll ever be okay. She’s one very messed-up girl. But she has Hayley and she can be Tiffany again. They’re going to live together for a while. Maybe they’ll sort things out.”
I looked across the street at a young couple pushing a baby carriage. The girl was licking an ice cream cone.
“Rex survived,” I said. “She got him at an angle so the bullet missed his brain.”
“His kind always does,” Luther said. “By the way, black SUV still with you. Across the street, four spaces down, engine running.”
“I know.”
“You need help?”
“No, I got this one. I know who it is. But hey—” I stuck out my hand “—thanks.”
“For what?” he said, taking my hand in both of his giant ones.
“You helped me more than you’ll ever know.”
“You helped yourself, brother. I’m just a tiny beacon of light in the service of the Lord.”
We unclasped hands and I began to walk away, facing north. I passed the sign, turned back, and gestured to it.
“God a big Rufus and Chaka Khan fan too, huh?” I said.
Luther grinned.
I took one more step before he called out to me in his big deep voice.
“Brother Titus,” he said.
Miami Burn (Titus Book 1) Page 28
