Lightwood

by Steph Post

  “And they were talking about Benji?”

  “Just at first. Then they started talking about money. It was that money you stole from the Scorpions. I knew bout that already. Then this Tulah woman said she’d make a deal with Sherwood. If he gave her the money back, she’d make him some kinda partner or something. And they’d let bygones be bygones about Benji.”

  Judah spoke through clenched teeth.

  “And he agreed?”

  “Oh yeah. He seemed all about it. They struck up some kinda agreement. Tulah said to bring the money to the church up in Kentsville tomorrow afternoon. He said he would. Then she left. And he left right after that.”

  Shelia faltered for a moment.

  “I thought, I thought it weren’t right. It sounded like your daddy knew it was Tulah who told the Scorpions where to find Benji. And then he just forgot about him like that. It weren’t right what was done to him, but it weren’t right for no one to care about it, neither. So I thought, I thought maybe if I told someone who did care, it might make things square. With me, I mean. Make up for what I helped do to him.”

  She looked back and forth between Ramey and Judah. Ramey’s face was more skeptical than angry, but Judah still wore a mask of fury. Shelia kicked up her leg and fixed the strap on her sandal, watching Judah warily for a sign. They still didn’t speak to her and Shelia swung her purse to the other shoulder.

  “So, that’s what I got. You gonna let me go now or you gonna bash me against the van a few more times?”

  Ramey crossed her arms and jutted out her chin.

  “Just seems a little too convenient to me. You being in the exact same restaurant as Sherwood this morning.”

  Shelia’s eyes flashed at Ramey.

  “It ain’t exactly like there’s much to choose from around here. Or maybe you hadn’t noticed?”

  The raw hatred had not left Judah’s eyes.

  “You’re still responsible for Benji laying up in that hospital bed in there. You did that to him.”

  Shelia dipped her head.

  “I know. I ain’t arguing with that. But you need to know something. I didn’t want to do it. To do that to Benji. And neither did any of the guys. The Scorpions. It was all their president, Jack. You know him?”

  Judah just stared at her.

  “They call him Jack O’ Lantern. He’s got red hair, you know. Hard to miss. I didn’t want to be a part of hurting Benji, but he made me go along. And the other guys, I heard them. They didn’t want to do it, neither. They just wanted to rough him up a little. Scare him, so he’d take the message back to Sherwood. But Jack’s president, so they couldn’t say no. He made us all do it.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care?”

  “I just. I thought you should know. About your daddy and Tulah. And about Jack. I thought you should know everything. For Benji’s sake.”

  Judah continued to stare at her. Finally, he broke his gaze and turned away. He started toward the Bronco without looking back and Shelia looked to Ramey, waiting. Ramey wrinkled her nose and turned on her heel.

  “Get the hell outta here. Get the hell outta Silas and don’t never come back.”

  Ramey stalked off behind Judah and left Shelia alone in the blistering heat.

  SHELIA SWERVED her battered Grand Am into the abandoned lot of a boarded up convenience store and jerked the gearshift into park. She let the engine idle while she stretched her neck back and forth and then adjusted the rearview mirror so she could inspect the mottled red band around her throat. She pressed the skin gingerly and realized that it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Judah had been angry, but he didn’t have naturally angry hands. Shelia had seen it in his eyes, though they had been momentarily clouded by bloodlust; he was a man who was uncomfortable with hitting a woman. Shelia thought about this with a mixture of admiration and pity for him as she dug into her purse for a compact of concealing powder. She craned her neck in the mirror and swiped the powder on, then reapplied her thick mascara and magenta lipstick. She popped her lips in the mirror and decided she had done enough to cover up the damage. At the bottom of her purse, underneath used tissues and crusted bottles of nail polish, she located her cellphone and flipped it open. There was no answer the first time and she immediately dialed the number again. When it was answered, she didn’t wait for hello.

  “Don’t hang up, Slim. I got some information about your stolen cash that, trust me, you really, really want to know.”

  Judah sat in the driver’s seat of the Bronco and didn’t speak. He had left the windows rolled down while they were in the hospital, but the air inside the truck was still broiling. He sat still, with his hands gripping the bottom of the steering wheel and his eyes staring dead ahead, not seeing, blind with the overwhelming incapacity to deal with the emotions boiling over inside of him.

  Ramey watched him warily from the passenger seat. She had witnessed this quiet rage from Judah before and knew that it was best not to give into it. Not to coddle it and not to acknowledge the tense lump of fear it could lodge in her throat if she let it. Ramey watched Judah’s swift, deep breathing, the way his chest was rising and falling in heavy arcs, and then forced her eyes away from him. She carefully slipped a cigarette from the pack on the dashboard and flicked her lighter, flinching when she heard Judah’s fist slam into the steering wheel. She turned her head and blew a thin stream of smoke out of the open window and counted to ten. Two long beaked birds were tearing apart a hamburger wrapper in the empty parking space next to the Bronco. Finally, she held the cigarette out to him, still keeping her eyes on the birds, and waited. When the cigarette left her fingers, she knew it was time to speak.

  “So, what do you want to do?”

  Ramey slowly turned back toward Judah and pushed a wave of hair behind her shoulder. He had the cigarette clamped tightly between his lips and didn’t answer her. His hands were on his thighs now, balled into tight fists. She knew that his mind was racing and she gave it another moment to focus before reformulating her question.

  “Okay. So what are you going to do?”

  Judah turned, though his eyes were seeing past her. He took the cigarette from his lips and handed it back to her. His voice was low and dangerous and the slow, halting delivery of his words reflected the erratic development of his ideas.

  “I can’t believe. I mean, I can. I mean, I’m done.”

  “With Sherwood?”

  “With dicking around.”

  Ramey nodded slowly.

  “How do you know that girl was telling the truth?”

  “I know she was. It’s just the kinda thing he would do. Always talking about family, but really, it’s always been about him.”

  When Judah’s eyes finally met Ramey’s they were dark and fierce. Unforgiving. There was a simmering brutality behind them. Ramey realized that something deep inside of Judah, in a place even she didn’t know about, had just crossed over a line.

  “I’m going after him. Sherwood. And this Tulah woman, too. And I’m gonna break them. I’m gonna make them pay for Benji. For walking away from him without even glancing back. I’m gonna make Sherwood wish he had never had sons. I’m gonna make him wish he had been castrated at birth. I’m gonna make him pay.”

  “How?”

  Judah stared hard at Ramey for another moment and then fell back in his seat, letting his shoulders sag.

  “He screwed Benji, so now we’re gonna make sure he’s the one with his ass up in the air. He decided to make a deal with the devil, so let’s make sure that when the devil comes knocking, Sherwood’s empty handed.”

  “We make sure he doesn’t have that money to give to Sister Tulah tomorrow.”

  “Exactly. I don’t think this preacher lady sounds like too compromising a woman. If Sherwood was willing to give up all that money just to go into business with her, she must be some kinda rock star. Which means that if he goes back on the deal before their partnership has even started, I don’t think Sister Tulah’s gonna ta
ke it in stride.”

  Ramey considered this.

  “So we gotta get the money back from Sherwood, before his meeting with Tulah tomorrow.”

  Judah drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, calculating in his head.

  “Yep.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  Judah turned to Ramey and smiled bitterly.

  “I’m gonna become a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And you’re gonna become a thief.”

  SLIM JIM followed the light blue Grand Am with his eyes as it rolled to a stop in front of the locked chain link gates. He ran his hand through his hair and glanced around the gravel lot. Jack O’ Lantern was still inside the clubhouse, most likely still sitting in the Lazy-Boy in the corner, still staring vacantly at the wood paneling across the room. He had not spoken to Slim Jim since they had turned their backs on the smoking wreckage of the trailer and for that Slim Jim was grateful. He did not want to hear Jack’s quavering voice and he had nothing to say in return. Long John was dead. That was all there was to know.

  Slim Jim watched Shelia step away from the car and walk toward the gate. She had been surreptitious on the phone and he was in no mood to play games or offer flattery. She smiled when she saw him watching her and he could see her throw her shoulders back and dip her chin down slightly. Slim Jim’s mouth didn’t waver from the rigid line it was chiseled into. Shelia came up to the gate and hooked her chipped red nails through the wire. Her coy smirk dissolved when she noticed Slim Jim’s stiff pose and the two armed prospects looking her up and down curiously.

  “You gonna let me in, or what?”

  Slim Jim watched Shelia’s face fall by degrees as she began to register the solemnity enshrouding the clubhouse. They looked at each other through the fence for a moment and then he sighed and nodded to Ratface. The prospect unhooked the chain and heaved the gate back as Shelia stepped through and Slim Jim came up to her. She started to put her arm around him, but he gripped her by the elbow and steered her off into a corner of the lot instead. Her high heeled sandals snagged on the loose gravel and she stumbled.

  “I guess you’re not gonna invite me inside, huh?”

  Slim Jim released her when they were out of hearing distance and leaned back against the fence. Shelia rubbed her elbow and then crossed her arms, instinctively pushing her cleavage upwards. She pursed her lips and waited. Slim Jim looked past her at the prospects, standing with bored expressions at the front gate, and finally turned his attention to Shelia. His voice was flat and empty.

  “Long John’s dead.”

  He had not meant to say this. He had not even planned to let Shelia in the gate, let alone tell her what had happened. Slim Jim had meant to keep it strictly business; find out what information she was dangling in front of them and send her on her way. Shelia gasped and raised her hand to her mouth.

  “Slim.”

  He was immediately afraid she was going to begin gushing sympathy and he’d have to push her away. He couldn’t deal with a woman trying to console him, trying to tell him that it would be all right. He had no desire to begin remembering Long John or the good times they’d shared or any of that crap. He knew that if she started crying or reached out to touch him he would smack her. He waited tensely, but he heard none of it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t appear to want details and if she did, she was smart enough not to ask. Slim Jim chewed on his lower lip, relieved and grateful.

  “I’ll tell you bout it some other time. Right now, why don’t you start explaining why you’re here? We’re kinda in the middle of something and Jack don’t got time to play games.”

  One side of Shelia’s lips curled.

  “Well, I ain’t here to talk to Jack. This information’s for you. I know where that money is.”

  Slim Jim’s eyes narrowed.

  “How do you know that? You don’t know shit.”

  “I know that Sherwood Cannon’s still got it, and that crazy preacher lady Tulah wants it back.”

  Slim Jim kicked backwards at the fence behind him.

  “Congratulations. Hope you didn’t waste your gas money driving all the way out here just to tell me that.”

  Shelia wrinkled her nose and cocked her hip to one side.

  “No, asshole. I didn’t. I wasted my gas money driving out here to tell you that Sherwood Cannon and Sister Tulah are working together now. How’s that for information?”

  Slim Jim jerked his head up and stared at Shelia.

  “What’re you talking bout?”

  Satisfied that she had his attention, Shelia took a step closer and put her hands on her hips.

  “I’m talking bout being down in Silas this morning and overhearing the two of them talking bout that money in a breakfast joint. That fat preacher lady told Sherwood Cannon that she knew he had her money and that she’d make a deal with him. He gives her the cash back and they become partners.”

  “And Sherwood agreed?”

  Shelia nodded her head.

  “Yep. I’ve got something else for you, too. Tomorrow afternoon Tulah, the Cannons and that pile of money are all gonna be up at that crazy church in Kentsville. Having a little pow-wow. Thought you’d like to know.”

  Slim Jim stared hard at Shelia, his eyes narrowed and his mouth open.

  “You absolutely sure?”

  “Cross my heart. I heard it all. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

  Slim gripped Shelia by the shoulders, almost as if he was going to embrace her, and then pushed past her, starting toward the clubhouse. Shelia spun around and called after him.

  “Hey!”

  He stopped and turned back to her, raising his eyebrows expectantly. She minced through the gravel and grabbed his wrist. He looked down at her hand and then back at her eyes, impatiently.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you forget where this information came from, neither. I know something’s going on with Jack. I’m not afraid to say it. What if something happens and he ain’t president no more? Those Cannons have got it in for him. What if something happens and he don’t make it back from that church? You’d be the Scorpions’ leader. You’d be in charge. I just don’t want you forgetting about me. Okay?”

  Shelia’s eyes were wide, almost childlike, but her voice was fierce. She held onto Slim Jim’s wrist, forcing him to acknowledge her. His eyes darkened at what she was suggesting, but he curled his hand around so that his fingers touched hers before pulling away.

  “I won’t forget, Shelia.”

  Slim Jim turned away from her and strode toward the clubhouse. It was time to make decisions. It was time to take control.

  Judah leaned back in the metal folding chair and let his eyes drift across the back wall of the Cannon Salvage garage. Not much had changed since he had last sat at the wobbly poker table, with a hot breeze wafting in through the open bay doors, drinking a can of Slitchz and talking shop. The same rebel flag hung from two support beams and the same foldout posters of muscle cars and topless swimsuit models were stabbed onto various hooks and nails across the walls. The Miss Wing Fling calendar was new and the dartboard had fallen to the concrete floor and cracked down the middle, but other than that, it was the same dirty space, where the same dirty plans were laid. The last time Judah had sat at the poker table, Sherwood had filled him in on the details for a wire stripping scam he wanted Judah to be a part of. And Judah had gone along with it. Just as he had all of the other times before then. Just as he had with the Scorpions and the saddlebags full of cash.

  Sherwood set his beer can down next to Judah’s and settled his weight into the folding chair across the table.

  “Been a while since we sat like this, huh son?”

  Judah glanced over his shoulder at Levi, standing ready at the bay doors, assault rifle in hand, keeping one eye on the car lot.

  “It’s been quite a few years, I’d say.”

  “Since you left town and took up with that whore in Colston.”

&nb
sp; Judah took a swig of beer and leaned over the table.

  “Well, we’ve all made stupid decisions a time or two.”

  Sherwood lifted his beer and raised it in Judah’s direction.

  “Amen to that, son.”

  Sherwood gulped the beer and slammed the empty can down on the table.

  “And as much I love having you back in the garage, I gotta ask. Any particular reason you wanted to meet here instead of coming out to the house?”

  Judah looked over at Levi again.

  “I just wanted to be safe. I don’t know what all’s going on, but if there’s a chance that someone’s out looking for us, maybe tailing me since I been staying in town, I didn’t want to lead them out to your place.”

  “Trying to be smart, for once?”

  “For once.”

  Sherwood raised his eyebrows at Judah and looked his son up and down.

  “Well, now that you got me out here, you got something you want to say?”

  Judah rested his elbows on the table and took a deep breath. He looked down at the oil stained floor beneath his boots and then jerked his head back up to meet Sherwood’s eyes. He exhaled heavily.

  “I didn’t want to just say this over the phone. I wanted to tell you in person. I’m sorry about what happened up at The Ace. About running my mouth. I was drunk and I was upset about Benji.”

  Judah looked away from Sherwood, out the open bay doors. The sunlight was startlingly bright compared to the cool shadows of the garage and the lines of chopped cars glittered in the afternoon sun.

  “I mean, you gotta know I was hurting. Benji’s just, you know, Benji. And I’d been cooped up in prison for so long and then getting out and going straight back on a job with you. It was too much and I didn’t handle it right. I let my emotions get the best of me and I was stupid. So I wanted to apologize for making a stink.”