Going South

by Tom Larsen

  “Son of bitch,” Harry works the kink in his neck.

  “What’s that Harry?” Ned calls.

  “Nothing. Guy just hit a bus.”

  The door pushes open behind him and Danny Smart stands blinking into the dimness.

  “Of all the gin mills in all the world,” Harry can’t resist.

  “Harry Watts! Jesus, Harry.”

  “Shut the door, you’re letting the flies out.”

  Danny steps over and pumps his hand. “How you been, Harry? You look good, buddy.”

  “What’s good?”

  “I don’t know. Everyone else is twice as big as they used to be.”

  “Where you been Danny boy? I don’t see you anymore.”

  “Been away. Anyone sitting here?”

  Harry glances around the empty bar. “Go for it, pal.”

  Ned makes an appearance, sets the man up with a beer and a coaster.

  “What is it, Dan? You ain’t been in since the last parade.”

  “He’s been away,” Harry explains. “Where is it, Jersey?”

  “Vets hospital, up in New York,” Danny flinches. “I been sick.”

  Ned looks him over. “You look pretty fit to me, compared to some.”

  “Not that kind of sick. Up here.” Danny taps his head. “Can’t keep it on straight.”

  Ned and Harry study their fingers.

  “Don’t worry, you can’t catch it or anything.”

  Ned shoves his hands in his pockets. “That ain’t it. It’s just everyone around here is a little off. What’s the difference?”

  “Maybe yeah. But most of them don’t take a header off the bridge.”

  Ned’s eyes go bulgy. “You?”

  “Nah,” Danny waves him off. “They talked me down. But I was up on the cables. Man you can’t believe the view up there.”

  “You’re kidding,” Ned sputters. “He’s kidding, right Harry?”

  Danny smiles. “That’s what I told them.”

  “So where’s Kit?” Harry thinks to ask.

  “She’s at her mom’s. I shoulda brought her along. You’re the only one in here she could stand, Harry.”

  “I know just how she feels.”

  “How’s Lena doing?”

  “She’s practically running things over at General. Queen of the not quite right,” Harry plunks the bar.

  “She’s the best, Harry. If it wasn’t for her I’d still be in a rubber room.”

  “You were in General? She never mentioned it.”

  “I couldn’t work. Everybody was making me nervous. Then I lost the house and the next thing I know I’m on the fucking bridge.”

  “How’d you lose the house, Dan?”

  “My health insurance dropped me. I couldn’t keep up.”

  “The VA dropped you?”

  “Nah, that’s the thing,” Danny shakes his head. “I didn’t even know I was covered by the VA until Lena checked it out. Can you believe it? I forgot I was ever in!”

  “Yo Dan, you got shrapnel in one leg and a metal plate in your head. You forgot that?”

  “The plate’s plastic now,” Danny grins. “The metal detectors were going through the roof. Anyway, it was so long ago it don’t seem like the same lifetime.”

  Ned has a thought. “Hey, maybe the VA can get you a lawyer to help you get your house back.”

  Danny shakes his head again. “Too late, bank had me fair and square. But VA’s been helping me get right, thanks to Lena.”

  “You think she would have clued me in.”

  “I asked her not to, Harry. The fewer people know you’re crazy, the better off you are.”

  “Jesus.”

  “So,” Danny lifts his beer. “I can come around some time?”

  Harry looks to Ned.

  “You kidding?” Ned fumbles with a bar towel. “I got more nuts in here than Blue Diamond. Just don’t be jumping off anything.”

  Harry sneaks a smoke from Ned’s pack. “Yeah hell, you start acting up we’ll just lock you in the store room.”

  Danny looks up at the television screen. “Christ, how can you see that thing from down here?”

  “Ned thinks it’s a radio. Humor him Danny boy.”

  Ned kills the volume to a crunching sound from right outside. He checks the street but no one’s out there.

  “Wilson’s got the funeral signs up,” he tells them. “Maybe that’ll get things rolling in here.”

  Harry grunts. “The thing about life is it always ends badly.”

  “You working Harry?” Danny asks him.

  “It ended badly.”

  “Reason I ask is I got a buddy painting lofts over in Port Richmond. He might need a hand.”

  “Painting!” Harry howls. “The last refuge of the unemployable.”

  “I know it ain’t your line, but you could probably pick up a few bucks.”

  “And leave Ned here by himself? Who’d watch the radio?”

  “I don’t know, Harry,” Danny shakes his head. “Sittin’ in the bar all day.”

  “Come on, man,” Harry checks the clock. “It ain’t even noon yet.”

  “It must be my medication. All of a sudden I’m worrying about everybody.”

  “Won’t do a bit of good, son. Here, let me buy you another drink.”

  “Nah, I can’t stay. I just stopped in to see if anyone wanted to paint a loft.”

  “I’d love to Danny, but I’m off to Mexico,” Harry claps a shoulder. “Taking in the sights, don’t you know?”

  “Mexico? You don’t look the Club Med type.”

  “Puerto Vallarta, three bedroom beachfront with a maid.”

  “Get out!” Danny gives him a nudge. “You’d pass up a paint job for that?”

  “For Lena. She’s been a rock.”

  “The best, Harry. The best there is.”

  “So they tell me.”

  Danny edges over. “I may be out of line here, but I heard something, Harry. The little tab you ran up with Billy D is due and payable.”

  Harry gives him a look. “Billy knows I’m good for it.”

  “The hoop season’s been over a month.”

  Harry reaches for the remote. “It’s taken care of Dan. But I appreciate the heads-up.”

  “Just something I heard, is all.”

  “I’m good.” the television sirens kick in again. “It’s all taken care of.”

  “Okay, let me get going.” Danny taps him on the hand.

  “Stay off the bridges, cuz.”

  ***

  Harry sits through Maury and the Young and Witless, trying to nurse them but making a mess of it. Patrons come and go, mostly barflies and swing shifters dropping in to kill the pain. By noon Ned and Harry have run out of patter then the jackhammers make the point mute. Harry’s coat catches the knob on his way out the door and the Fletcher twins giggle as he bounces off the mailbox. It gets worse. When he gets to the back lot his car isn’t in it.

  “Fucking thieving wrecker,” Ned comes up beside him. “Them wreckers get you every time. Anything with a registration gets the hook.”

  “What outfit?”

  “How would I know?”

  “You said you saw the truck, Ned. Give me a name.”

  “You kiddin’? If I could see that far I’d be in my twenties.”

  ***

  The door has a new nameplate. Henry Walters Esq. Corporate Executive Officer, in brushed brass framed by old screw holes. Lena shoulders her way inside balancing med cups in either hand, a pair of patients in tow whining at each other. Walters springs to his feet while Strickland sits scowling.

  “Can we make this quick fellas?” Lena skirts the desk and nods the whiners inside. “We’re short downstairs and all hell’s breaking loose.”

  “Mrs. Watts, what is the meaning of this?” Walters stammers.

  “Not to worry. They’re with me.”

  “But why are the
y with you?”

  “Well, I know how these headbutting sessions can run on and I figured I’d get some work done.”

  Walters marches to the door and summons his minions. “Mrs. Worthman, would you please get someone to return these patients to the psych unit.”

  Firm but polite, Walters thinks to himself, just like in the book. By God he’ll take care of this. Firm but polite, that’s the way. Walters returns to his desk and motions Lena to take a seat. Lena hesitates a moment then hands the med cups to Strickland. Strickland scowls and sets them on the windowsill.

  Walters begins. “Mrs. Watts, I’m going to ask you a simple question. I want you to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Do you know the whereabouts of Mr. Strickland’s car?”

  “I could guess.”

  “Mr. Strickland has informed me that you’ve been harassing him with blackmail and threats of violence.”

  “I wouldn’t call it harassing. Just laying some ground rules.”

  Strickland fidgets and Walters shoots him a look.

  “Are you saying Mr. Strickland made it all up?”

  “Sounds like him.”

  Walters strains to picture the book cover, the jaunty corporate raider with the chainsaw.

  “I see. You’re suggesting that Mr. Strickland fabricated these threats then stole his own car to discredit you.”

  “Brilliant, when you think about it.”

  “Have you been feeling alright, Mrs. Watts?” Walters tries to frame it another way. Chapter Six, Changing Tack.

  “Oh, I’m a little tired, what with the skeleton crew and inflated census. But, other than that . . .”

  “Mrs. Watts, what would you say if I told you that you were seen driving off in Mr. Strickland’s car yesterday afternoon?”

  “I’ll see you in court?” Lena calls his bluff.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Watts versus General Hospital and the Metro Medical Group, defamation of character, slander, pain and suffering?”

  “It’s no secret you disapprove of Mr. Strickland’s appointment.”

  “Your choice of words.”

  “We are talking about a crime here! A legal and moral outrage! How petty professional differences could come to this is incomprehensible to me,” he slaps the desk. Well-placed outburst, Chapter–

  “Me too.”

  Walters wilts. “Mrs. Watts, just between the three of us, what are the chances Mr. Strickland’s car turns up this afternoon? No questions asked.”

  Lena frowns. “I’d say not good. I gotta tell you it’s chop shop city around here and the addicts know them all.”

  Walters wracks his brain for a chapter, but there’s nothing in the book to cover grand theft auto.

  “You’re forcing me into a very awkward situation. You realize that don’t you?”

  Lena puts on her poker face.

  “We’re talking about a felony here. A serious crime you’re unwilling to rectify.”

  Then it comes to him.

  “Here’s what I intend to do. As a last resort I’m going to leave the room for a minute, in hopes that matters may still be resolved, in private, between two rational human beings.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Strickland protests.

  “Strickland, please,” Walters holds up his hand. “Nurse Watts is a reasonable person. I firmly believe this. I’m sure if you impress upon her your intentions not to pursue the matter. Not to seek recourse, as the case may be, two clear thinking professionals should be able to come to a mutually agreeable solution. Mrs. Watts? I trust this is possible?”

  “Never say never.”

  Walters hesitates then walks to the door, so quiet they can hear the nap in the carpet. He turns once on the way out then the door clicks closed behind him. Strickland eyes Lena. Lena pokes at a cuticle.

  “That business in my office,” Strickland leads off. “Very clever.”

  “That was nothing. Believe me.”

  “But you must be aware that regardless of the outcome your intentions have been revealed. That any further attempts to harass me would appear rather transparent, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Piss off, bozo.”

  Strickland folds his hands like an altar boy. “Might I remind you that in the chain of command I am still your direct superior? Think about it, Nurse Watts. I’m in a position to make things rather difficult for you.”

  “You’re history pocket pal.”

  ***

  “Jesus, no one saw nothing! How is that possible?” Harry stares through the rain at the empty space.

  “It’s a vacant lot, Harry. Who’s here to see?”

  He walks a few steps closer, as if that might help. “And I got the precinct decal on the window, big as shit!”

  Ned spits a foamy gob into a puddle. “Hell, every car in Pennsport has one.”

  “I gotta get outa the city, Ned.”

  “Russians, most likely. They own the impound lots too, so it’s all tied in. By the time they send you a notice you’re into them for half a grand. Not to mention anything outstanding, warrants, child support, alimony. It’s a new world Harry, nowhere to hide.”

  “What ever happened to the breaks evening out? Every so often you had a good day, remember?”

  “Vaguely, yeah.”

  “I feel it, Ned. The walls closing in.”

  “I’ll look in the Yellow Pages. Maybe I’ll recognize the name.”

  “Fuck it. Let ‘em have it.”

  “I don’t know why you have to drive here anyway. Hell, it’s only three blocks.”

  “Four.”

  “Sometimes you gotta walk farther than that just to get to your car.”

  Harry blows raindrops off the tip of his nose. “Fuck the world.”

  “Don’t take it so hard. Report it stolen. Insurance will cover it.”

  Harry barks a laugh.

  ***

  “So, where to start?”

  “I want my car back, bitch!” Strickland hisses.

  Lena jumps up like she suddenly remembered something, the med cups, which she dumps in Strickland’s lap. Next thing he knows she’s screaming bloody murder.

  “Mr. Strickland, don’t!”

  Walters and his minions charge in just as she’s screwing herself into a corner bookshelf.

  “He said he’d get me! Then he dumped those meds on himself!” she claws a few volumes.

  “That’s a lie!” Strickland looks stricken. “I demand she be fired.”

  “Keep him away from me! He’s unbalanced!”

  Strickland storms past Walters who makes no move to stop him. The rest stand wincing at the trail of expletives down the hall. When there is nothing left to hear Walters turns back to the room and slowly closes the door. Lena and the minions huddle like there’s a madman in the midst.

  “Sarah Jane? Miss. Worthman? Could you excuse us for a moment?” Walters nods them out. He turns back at the door, fusses at his bookcase then stares out bravely on the swayback roofs of Pennsport. Lena smells a deal in the works.

  “Now see here, Nurse Watts,” she can’t believe he’d start with that. “This is a disgraceful turn of events.”

  “Shocking, sir.”

  “Absolutely intolerable.”

  “I see you going far here, sir.”

  Walters pounds his fist on the desk then struggles to compose himself.

  “In a way, I suppose it’s a good thing.”

  “How’s that, Henry?”

  “It makes it easier for me to make the decision,” Walters shows his one true color. “To terminate the psych unit.”

  Lena rocks back half a step.

  “Well,” the smarmy bastard smirks. “It appears we’ve finally hit a nerve.”

  “The whole unit?”

  “Efforts are being made to place the others.”

  “Alice Long is fifty-two years ol
d. Where are you going to place her?”

  “These are uncertain times, Nurse Watts. If it’s any consolation it was only a matter of when. Your unit was living on borrowed time.”

  There’s a commotion outside the door, Strickland’s return raising a ruckus. A sharp shriek sends Walters scurrying. The minions cringe as the men go at it, Strickland blubbering as he backs out the door. Walters returns with a spring to his step.

  “There!” he smacks his hands together. “Now, where were we Nurse Watts?”

  “On borrowed time.”

  “Exactly, a simple matter of economics. The board had penciled you out even before the acquisition. It was only through my intercession that you shouldered on this long.”

  “You’re a prince, Henry.”

  “It’s a fact.”

  “How long do I have?”

  “I’ll allow you to close out the week, without incident, I trust. Oh, and I wouldn’t bother about filing a grievance. By the time our lawyers get through with it there won’t be a unit to return to.”

  “I’ll be gone after tomorrow.”

  “If you prefer.”

  “What about him?” Lena nods to the empty chair.

  Walters’ smile is a dental marvel. “Strickland’s history.”

  ***

  Lena brings in muffins for the occasion. Raspberry and raisin for the crew, Ex-Lax marked with toothpicks for persons unnamed. She knows it’s childish, that the whole thing is hopeless, but that’s the kind of woman she is. Warm, fuzzy and out for blood, with Walters a long shot, but Strickland as freeloading favorite.

  They gather at break time, she makes it official that today’s her last day on the job and the crew puts on a show of being dumbstruck. Staff wander in from all over and everyone rails against the injustice, head up and hang in there, the sad chant of the chronically clobbered. People she doesn’t even know drop around, doctors to dishwashers, Haitians from housekeeping, the goons from security, half the loonies in the bin. Everyone but anyone from the third floor. If there’s a better grapevine Lena’s never seen it. Word up on the toothpicks and no one goes near them.