Harvey Porter Does Dallas

by James Bennett

  Harvey had seven dollars and she had ten. Harvey insisted she keep the extra five. She was about to protest, but Harvey shook his head. She put the extra five into her purse.

  On Friday morning, Victor had the first good news. “We’ve got a bid for twenty thousand dollars,” he told Harvey.

  “Are you kiddin’ me?”

  “Nope, twenty grand.”

  “Let’s grab it.”

  “No, no, Harvey, now we wait a little while. People will see the bid and then make higher ones. That’s how it works on online auctions. Just wait, you’ll see.”

  Harvey trusted Victor, but this seemed like a gamble.

  “I know twenty thousand sounds like a lot of money to you, Harvey, but we can do better. Much better.”

  “What if there aren’t any other bids?”

  “There will be. Trust me. Especially since the first one came in so high.”

  Harvey frowned and reflected. He finally said, “Well, we do have to split the money three ways.”

  “Exactly. And don’t forget, eBay will take a commission. They don’t let us auction on their site for free.”

  “How much?”

  “I think it’s five percent. That means the twenty thousand would be down to sixteen. We also promised Mr. Weeble a cut.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Harvey. Even though he wasn’t patient with it, he could see Victor’s point.

  That evening he told Carmelita about the bid. She was thrilled. “So do we take it then?”

  “Victor says we’re better off to wait. Higher bids’ll come. I trust him, he knows what he’s doin’.”

  The two of them were sitting on a bench in Dealey Plaza. It was a cool November night with a full moon and lots of stars. Carmelita was wearing a sweatshirt with the words Vaya con Dios on the front.

  Then she surprised Harvey so much he was startled; she reached over and held his right hand. Harvey loved the gesture. He laced his fingers with hers. He had to breathe deeply a few times; it was so unexpected. Finally he said, “I don’t have any sweatshirts. When I get some money from eBay, I’m gonna buy me some new clothes.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Carmelita. She lifted her face and said, “Well, Harvey, aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  He didn’t hesitate. The kisses were warm and wet and wonderful.

  23. THE WAITING GAME

  On Friday morning, Victor brought even better news. “We now have a bid for $44 thousand. We’ve had eleven new bids in the past 24 hours.”

  “Okay,” said Harvey. “We have to sell now. 44 thousand dollars is a fortune.”

  “No, no, no, no. We wait. The bids are coming fast; this is going to go higher.”

  “How much higher?” Harvey asked urgently.

  “Don’t know,” said Victor. We wait and we watch.”

  “But 44 thousand dollars?”

  “A couple of days ago you wanted to sell it for 20 grand. Now there are bids more than twice that high. That’s how the game is played.”

  “How often do you check the eBay data?” asked Carmelita.

  “Three or four times a day. Every day. And I’ll remind you one more time that the money will have to be split three ways, it’s taxable, and eBay will skim off their commission. So if you break it down, each of us is lookin’ at about 13 thousand.”

  “That does change the picture,” Harvey forced himself to wait. Maybe he should just take Victor’s advice while trying to stay calm.

  Then, Victor brought the bad news. “I have to drive back to Livingston tomorrow. I’ve got a court date.”

  “A court date?”

  “Yeah, I’m out of jail on bail money; remember?”

  “What court?” Harvey asked. His tone of voice was urgent again.

  “It’s the local magistrate. I have to appear before him tomorrow. I may have to spend another night in jail.”

  “Or worse,” said Harvey.

  “What do you mean, or worse?” asked Carmelita.

  “Well, Victor’s got a criminal record for takin’ off in buses and even squad cars. He could get a jail sentence. Sorry to say it, bro,” he told Victor.

  Victor just shrugged. “No problem. That’s what I’m worried about. Even local magistrates in small towns can contact the state police and get your criminal record.”

  “We should be ashamed of ourselves,” Carmelita told Harvey. “Here we are fussing and complaining about how much money we’re gonna get on eBay, while Victor could be facing a crisis.”

  Harvey nodded his head and put his arms on his knees. He felt a little ashamed. “I’d say a fine is more likely than time in the slammer.”

  Victor replied, “Maybe, but that could be just as big a problem.”

  “How so? You’ve got lots of money.”

  “No. My dad has lots of money. He called me last night and said in Livingston I’m on my own. If I get a fine, even a big one, he’s not paying it. He said he’s sick of my behavior, so he’s cuttin’ me loose. I can’t say I blame him.” But Victor had tears rolling down his cheek.

  Carmelita put her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t cry, Victor. You’re imagining the worst-case scenario. Try to have a little faith, like we’re trying to do with this Oswald auction stuff.”

  Victor wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. “You’re probably right.”

  “A magistrate in a small town?” Harvey chimed in. “Probably some old fart who can’t who can’t even look up the state cops in the phone book.”

  “But he’ll be mad ’cause it’s a Saturday.”

  “He’ll be too tired to give a shit. He’ll probably want to get rid of you quick so he can go back to his Jack Daniels.”

  Victor did feel a bit encouraged. Harvey did know plenty about courtroom procedures and juvenile jails. He brightened up. “Thanks, guys, I feel better already.”

  The next morning, they said goodbye to Victor as he drove the Lexus from the parking lot. Harvey gave him a thumbs-up and Carmelita kissed his cheek. “Well now I am ready,” said Victor, squealing his tires.

  That afternoon, at the re-run movie theatre three blocks from the plaza Terminator II was showing. “Why don’t we go?” said Harvey. “I’m like totally gone on Schwarzenneger movies.”

  “Yeah, but they’re so violent.”

  “Yeah they are. What’s your point?”

  “Never mind. It’s Saturday afternoon so we’d need to get a permission pass.”

  “No problem,” said Harvey. “We know how to do that.”

  “Who’s paying for this movie I’m really not charged up about?”

  “I guess you are,” said Harvey with a sheepish grin. “All I got’s three dollars.”

  “That’s the ticket price over there. D’ya want to spend your last three dollars on this?”

  “Hell yes. What else?”

  “Okay then.” Carmelita went and got her purse, then she filled out the permission slip at the main counter. A secretary looked it over, and then filed it. She looked bored to death.

  Carmelita bought the popcorn, a big buttery tub. Harvey helped her eat it. Since it was an afternoon matinee, the theatre crowd was sparse. Carmelita ran her index finger up and down Harvey’s ugly forehead scar. “So this comes from my scumbag brother.”

  “We been through all this, right?” Then she held his hand while the previews were showing. I am sooo not going to screw this up, he told himself.

  When the movie started, Arnold Schwarzenneger entered the bar and poolroom. He was naked. Carmelita held her hand to her face. “Arnold Schwarzenneger—naked!”

  “See, I told you you’d like it.”

  “Be still my heart.”

  They smooched a little bit during the movie, but Harvey was very careful not to pump up the volume. He had his arm around her shoulders most of the time as she snuggled in close. He’d never had a real girl friend before, and certainly no one as stunning as Carmelita. He’d never had a friend as close as Victor Vice.

  I like t
he school. I think it’s making me better. Maybe I’m actually good, or part of me is. But how could that be, if your grandmother was a whore, your grandfather was Clyde Barrow, your father was Lee Harvey Oswald and your mother was an aging half-breed who didn’t even want you?

  On the walk home, they held hands. They were stopped at a traffic light. “Didya notice how Schwarzenneger was wastin’ anybody who got in the way?”

  “Sure, but then the little boy told him he had to stop killing people.”

  “Right. So what’d he do? He changed his ways. He started shootin’ peoples’ hands off or in the knee.”

  “So what does that prove? He was only following the little boy’s orders.”

  “Yeah, but he was shootin’ them to disable them.”

  “So what? He couldn’t kill them, so he shot them to wound them.”

  “Exactly! We need to tell Mrs. Bert about this. She says if you shoot a potential killer to disable him, you’ll only make him so freaked that he’ll be even more dangerous to close people.”

  “She said that?”

  “Yeah, the first day of class.”

  “Maybe she knows what she’s talking about; she’s not a sociology teacher for nothing.”

  “Yeah, but who is she to think she knows better than Arnold himself? I mean, we’re talkin’ about the Terminator here. You think Mrs. Bert would dare to stand up against him?”

  “I think you need to remember we were watching a movie, not real life.”

  “But it’s Arnold Schwarzenneger for chrissakes!”

  They were glum again by the time they got back to the school building. Harvey signed back in, then they plopped themselves in the lounge. “I keep worrying about Victor,” said Carmelita.

  “Yeah, me too.” He didn’t add that he was also worried about their current eBay adventure. He wished he knew more about computers and the Internet.

  24. CASH AND JAIL

  Victor didn’t get back till noon on Monday. He was a very unhappy camper. “There’s good news and bad news,” he told Harvey. “No, on second thought it’s bad news and worse news.”

  “Well, you’re not in jail anyway.”

  “Not yet. I could be.”

  “What’s that s’posed to mean? You could be?”

  “Okay, it went like this. The magistrate was just what you predicted. He was an old bald fart whose head looked like a melon. His teeth kept falling out. On Saturday, when I stood in front of his desk, he was drunk.”

  “I knew it,” said Harvey.

  “So I stand there and he sentences me to 90 days in jail. In Livingston. You’ve seen that place. The closest thing they’ve got to a recreation area is probably that back room where the blubberbutt deputy keeps his mattress.”

  “Ninety days in stir? And that’s for certain?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “So, tell me.”

  “The magistrate came back to the jail yesterday afternoon. He was sober. I think. He said he’d thought it over and gave me two other options. The first was a ten thousand dollar fine and the second was 200 hours of community service.”

  “Ten thousand bucks? Two hundred hours of community service? Is this for real?”

  Victor nodded his head. He was still gloomy as could be.

  Harvey asked him, “So which one are you gonna choose?”

  “I can’t decide. If I pay the fine, I’ve only got ten days to do it. And I’m still out on bail and under court supervision.”

  “Ten thousand bucks!” Harvey shook his head. “So what’s with the two hundred hours of community service?”

  “I have to wash buses.”

  “In Livingston?”

  “No. In Dallas. The magistrate has already written a letter to Dallas’s department of transportation.”

  “If that’s what you choose, you better make sure there’s no keys in ’em.”

  “Yeah don’t I know it. But two hundred hours, Harvey? That’s as long as five forty-hour work weeks. And you know how big the damn buses are, right?”

  Harvey nodded. “Yeah they’re big. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to wash one.” He wished the topic could swing to the eBay auction, but he decided he had to let Victor bring it up.

  “There’s one thing I know for sure,” Victor declared, lifting his head. “I’m not gonna spend 90 days in the Livingston town jail.”

  “Would it have to be in that jail? Couldn’t it be somewhere here in town? Dallas has better jails than that. I mean it’s still jail and all, but you get my drift.”

  “I get your drift, but it has to be in Livingston. You know what, I better check our auction site on eBay. Headmaster D’artagnan is pretty good about letting me use his computer, especially in the afternoons.”

  “Yeah that would be cool.”

  “If I can’t use his there are other choices. I’ll get back to you on it. By the way, next year, SAS is going to have a computer lab.”

  Harvey was glad to hear it. He knew practically nothing about computers. “That would be good for people like me,” he said.

  “And Carmelita,” added Victor. “She doesn’t know her way around a keyboard either.” Then he left, headed toward fourth floor. He was still glum, trudging slowly.

  That afternoon, Harvey sat with Carmelita on a bench in the plaza. It was a chilly day. Harvey wished again he had a sweatshirt or a windbreaker. He could take one from Lichtenstein or Stonecipher, but it just didn’t feel like him anymore. It seemed like most of the fun had gone out of beating people up. He sighed. I used to know myself. I was a badass. Who else could take down Carlos Villanueva?

  Harvey summarized his whole conversation with Victor. Carmelita was stunned. “But that’s too harsh!”

  Harvey shrugged. “He has got a criminal record.”

  Her eyes blazed away. “That doesn’t matter; so he took a bus for a joyride. He brought it back, right?”

  “Oh yeah, he always brings them back. He just likes to drive them.”

  “I can’t believe it. Harvey, what would you choose if you were in his place?”

  It didn’t take Harvey long to answer. “I’d probably take the ninety days,” he shrugged. “I sure as hell don’t have ten thousand bucks and I’m not about to spend two hundred hours washin’ city buses.”

  Carmelita frowned, pondering his answer. Then she said, “I’ve got something to tell you. I talked to Mrs. Bert this morning about your Arnold Schwarzenneger idea.”

  “And?”

  “She thinks you’re nuts. She said he’s just an actor playing a part in a movie; it’s not real. Then she said you might as well watch Roadrunner cartoons and imitate Wiley Coyote.”

  “Thanks a whole lot for tellin’ me.”

  It wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon until they were able to get together with Victor. He had run into a few roadblocks trying to access a computer. “But this morning D’Artagnan’s secretary let me use hers.”

  “And?”

  Victor’s grin was as wide as a Cheshire cat’s. “My friends, we are in good shape. Very good shape.” He glanced around to see if anybody was close enough to hear, but they were in the couch next to the potted plant in the corner of the room. Two or three guys were seated over near the window, and Lichtenstein was in the far wing chair writing something on a clipboard.

  Victor kept his voice very low, scarcely above a whisper. “We’ve got a bid for ninety thousand dollars.”

  “Oh my God,” said Carmelita.

  “Do we take it?” Harvey asked. He could feel his pulse racing.

  “Yeah, I think we do. Only two or three bids have trickled in over the weekend, so the bidding may not go higher.”

  “Could it go lower?” Harvey asked.

  Victor was nodding his head. “It could.”

  “Then we take the money and run,” said Harvey.

  “I think we do.”

  “I am sooo not believing this,” said Carmelita. “That’s thirty thousand dollars apiece.”

  “Not quite. Th
ere’s eBay’s commission we have to consider.”

  “What’s a commission?”

  “It’s the money eBay skims for lettin’ you auction on their site,” said Harvey, proud that he remembered so well.

  “So how much then?”

  “Yeah,” Harvey repeated her question. “How much?”

  Victor sighed. “I can’t do the math in my head.”

  “You don’t need to,” said Harvey. “We’ll use Lichtenstein’s calculator.”

  “Ya think he’s got it with him?”

  “He’s always got it with him.” Without another word, Harvey strode across the room and asked ’Berto if he could borrow the calculator. Lichtenstein was having trouble keeping his glasses from slipping down his nose. If he didn’t have enough pimples in that area, he couldn’t keep them up. He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  When he got back to his two friends, Victor and Carmelita were ready to go. Victor started punching buttons. “Okay, if eBay takes five percent, that’s four thousand, five hundred bucks. That means 85 thousand, 500 for us.”

  “Oh my lord,” said Carmelita in hushed tones.

  “And what is it if you divide it by three?” Harvey asked eagerly.

  Victor punched some more buttons rapidly. “The grand total is 28 thousand, five hundred dollars apiece. Don’t forget it’s taxable, though.”

  “Oh my lord,” was all Carmelita could think to say.

  “Piss on the taxes. We take the money and run,” said Harvey.

  “I think we do,” Victor replied. Then he brightened up, “Hey, think about this: I can pay my ten thousand dollar fine and still have more than eighteen thousand left! Hot damn!”

  Harvey said, “I’m gonna buy a used car and some new clothes. I’m gonna get a Harley-Davidson sweatshirt and a windbreaker.”

  “You also need to get yourself a couple of pairs of Dockers slacks,” said Carmelita.

  “I do? Why?”

  “Well you can’t just wear blue jeans all the time, Harvey.”

  “I can’t?” Maybe he should have paid more attention if she’d like him more that way, but his head was swimming. He took the calculator back to ’Berto. “Lichtenstein, you keep havin’ so much grief from those glasses.”

  “I know. It’s embarrassing.”