“I think he will too,” Peaches chimed in.
“Well, just in case he don’t, I thought maybe you guys would wanna do something with me.” He reached into the front zipper compartment of his backpack and pulled out three joints.
No sharing this time, one for each of us.
I looked over at Peaches. She didn’t have to say anything. Her eyes said yes.
We made a nest for Olivia in the backseat next to grandma, and then sat on the trunk of the car silently smoking the joints. It felt different this time. I wasn’t concerned with grandma finding out, or the police coming to put me away. I let all of my muscles relax, let the cold reality of what the world had become fade away, far, far away, until all I could focus on was a small bird sitting on the branch of a tree across the way, and the lovely song it sang.
The melody sounded a bit like Aerosmith’s Dream On.
And so I did.
In that moment, everything else was meaningless.
Chapter 23
Robinson answered the door and said, “What in the hell is he doing here?”
No, hello, good to see you.
Glad you made it.
Come on inside.
Make yourself at home.
Still, I was relieved we’d found the right place, and that my high had worn off. I was concerned Robinson might notice something was different—or maybe his dog, who was somewhere out of sight behind him, but who was barking with either great enthusiasm or disdain at our arrival.
Robinson’s house was located in the northwestern section of town, in an area commonly referred to as Canaveral Groves. Here, the lots were generally much larger and heavily wooded, and the community had a reputation for being relatively peaceful, as long as the occasional bonfire or neighborhood karaoke party didn’t bother you. Better than the shootings and stabbings that occurred in my neck of the woods. It wasn’t unusual to see people riding around on dirt bikes or four-wheelers around these parts, even on horseback, though I couldn’t imagine Officer Robinson engaging in any of those activities. Today we saw no such thing, however, as this was certainly no normal day.
Peaches walked up and down the driveway, bouncing baby Olivia in her arms, while Bowser stood just behind me on the porch steps.
“Sorry,” I finally said. “It was my idea.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Bowser said, stepping forward.
“No, you do,” Robinson said. He came out of the house and shut the door. “What are you doing here? Did I not make myself clear enough earlier?”
“You did.”
“So . . .”
“So I thought maybe you’d reconsider.”
Robinson sighed. “You thought wrong.”
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not gonna apologize for the way I’ve lived my life. I am who I am and you are who you are. I can’t change the past, or the shit that went down between us. But things ain’t like they were before.”
“You did say you wanted to gather as many survivors together as possible,” I said.
“I meant good people,” Robinson replied.
Bowser shook his head and stepped back.
“I think he is good.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”
“You don’t know me,” Bowser said. “Not anymore.”
“I know enough. How many times have you been arrested?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“How many times?” Robinson asked again. “You know, you might be able to fool Jimmy cause he just met you, but you aren’t fooling me.”
“Whatever, man. Where do you expect me to go?”
“Am I supposed to care? You can go wherever you want, as long as it’s out of my way.”
Bowser looked at me and said, “Told you it was a waste of time.” Then began walking away.
“Did you tell him how many years you spent in prison? Or did you leave that out?” Robinson shouted. Bowser kept walking down toward the car. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“What did he go to prison for?” I asked.
“Grand theft auto.”
“Like the video game?”
“No, like real life grand theft auto. Also had a few drug offenses. He’s no petty criminal, this guy. No matter what he’s told you.”
I turned and looked back at Bowser now leaning against the car. “He didn’t really tell me anything.”
“No, why would he? I can practically smell the weed on him from here.”
I cringed, knowing what Robinson was probably smelling was me.
“Despite all that, things have changed,” I said. “I’m sure we all have things in the past we’re not proud of. I know I do. I slept with stuffed animals until I was like sixteen years old.”
“I think this is a little different.”
“I once stole money from my grandma’s purse.”
“Did you ever steal a car?”
I pretended to think about the question, then said, “Well, no, can’t say that I have.”
“Like I said, this is a little different. I know you meant well by bringing him here, Jimmy. But it’s just not gonna work. I can’t trust him.”
I sighed. Officer Robinson was starting to make me wish I were negotiating with Aamod.
“I think you can trust him, but you just don’t want to.”
“What the hell’s the difference?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to get you to reconsider. I think . . . I mean, I know he could be useful. Plus, no matter what happened between you two in the past, or whether he’s been to prison or not, doesn’t change the situation we’re in. No offense, but you’re not a cop anymore, not really. What the law was or wasn’t before doesn’t really apply now.”
“And that’s exactly why I can’t trust him.”
“I don’t follow.”
“He didn’t respect the laws before. How do you think he’ll act when he knows there are none?”
I stood in silence for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He had a good point. Finally, I said, “Let me talk to him.”
“There’s nothing he can say that will change my mind.”
I put my head down in defeat and began walking toward the car, then turned back and gave it one last shot. If Robinson was set on being the immovable object, then I was determined to be the unstoppable force.
“I know this isn’t the way you wanted things to be. This isn’t the way any of us wanted things to be. My grandma is sitting in the backseat of the car dying as we speak. She is literally all the family I’ve got.” I could slowly feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. Everything had happened so suddenly, I hadn’t even begun to properly grieve. I had hoped Officer Robinson wouldn’t notice my wet eyes, though, on second thought, I wondered if my crying on his shoulder might be enough to change his mind. “You don’t know what’s happened to your son, but I imagine the worst has crossed your mind.”
“I’m trying not to think about it.”
“Yeah, well, I wish I could imagine my grandma not being ill. But I’m not so lucky. Maybe I’d rather be like you, believing there is still hope. Maybe knowing isn’t so great after all.”
“Trust me when I say that I feel your pain,” Robinson said. “It doesn’t go unnoticed. And I think maybe we can help each other out in that regard.”
“I do too. I also think we can help him. And he can help us. He doesn’t want to be here anymore than me or Peaches. I’m sure even Olivia would rather be at home with her mother and father, if she could say so. But no, she didn’t get that choice.” I looked back at Bowser still leaning against the car, arms crossed, waiting for me to drive him somewhere. Peaches walked up beside him, and they began talking. “He’s here because he doesn’t know where to go or what to do. He’s lost friends and family, just like the rest of us. Change has come whether we like it or not. Shouldn’t we try to at least make the best of it? Don’t we all deserve a second chance?”
I
walked away before Robinson could respond. I’d hoped he’d stand there and think about what I’d said. Instead, he followed me to the car.
“What’s going on?” Peaches asked. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking back at Robinson.
“Jimmy, can you open the trunk,” Bowser said. “I need to get my pack.”
“No, it’s okay. We’ll give you a ride. You don’t have to walk.”
“I just need to get something before we go.”
I went around and opened the trunk for Bowser. He grabbed his backpack and opened the main zipper compartment. I feared he might pull out a big bag of weed, or worse, a gun. And after I had done all that great work buttering Robinson up. But all he took out was a white envelope. He walked over and handed it to Robinson.
“What’s this?”
“See for yourself.”
Robinson opened the envelope and looked inside.
I prayed it didn’t contain anthrax.
He stared at the contents of the envelope for a moment, and then looked up at Bowser. “Do I need to count it?”
Bowser shook his head. “Nah, it’s all there.”
“Not much good it’ll do me now.”
“I know. But still . . . I thought—”
“It’s a start,” Robinson said.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s in the envelope?”
Robinson pulled out a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. Ten or fifteen of them. “The money he owed me.”
“From the NBA finals?” Robinson nodded. “Wow, that’s a lot of money to bet on one game. You guys might have a gambling problem.”
“It was six games, actually,” Robinson replied. “And it was what we did back then, right?”
“Yeah, it was,” Bowser agreed.
Robinson smiled and put the money back in the envelope. “Gonna take a lot more than that to earn my trust. But it’s a good start.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Robinson said. “Thank Jimmy. He fought pretty hard to get me to let you stay. He obviously sees something in you.”
“Maybe you will too.”
To this, Robinson said nothing. He shoved the envelope in his pocket and walked around to the trunk of the car. “Now let’s get your stuff inside. I’m starting to get hungry again.”
Robinson had a fairly old ranch-style house from the looks of the outside. The inside, however, looked brand spanking new. He said that it hadn’t been so nice when he’d bought the place a few years back, and that he’d only recently finished remodeling. He had done a damn good job, too. There were tile floors in every room except for in the bedrooms, of which there were three. New stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. New paint on the walls, those not covered in wooden paneling. Even much of the furniture looked new. After we finished bringing the stuff from the car, including my grandma, who we carefully set down in one of the guest rooms, Robinson led us out back to show off his new deck. It was about the size of the bookstore. Maybe a little bigger.
“Nice view,” Peaches said.
The deck stood about six feet off the ground and looked out on an expanse of large trees that had to be much older than the house.
“Thanks,” Robinson said. “I just got this finished. I thought it would be a nice place for me and Jax to sit and unwind, huh boy?”
Jax, a four-year-old German Shepherd, just looked up lovingly at his owner and wagged his tail.
No doubt tired of hauling Olivia around, Peaches sat down at the covered patio table.
I was inspecting the grill. “Is this where you work your magic?”
Robinson smirked. “Yeah, you’ll see. Oh that reminds me. I need to see what I’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, after scouring the kitchen for ingredients, it was clear that what he had wasn’t much.
“Oh well, we need to make a trip to the store anyway,” Robinson said. “The sun will be going down soon. We’re gonna need lots of candles. Maybe we can locate a generator, though I’ve never used one before, so I’m not sure how to hook one up.”
“It probably has directions,” I said.
We sat down in the living room with pen and paper and made a list of things to get at the store. When we were done, the list contained over two dozen items; some very specific like a bassinet for Olivia, others much less specific, like canned food. There was no point in bringing grandma along for the ride, so we let her continue to sleep in the guest room. Jax, Robinson’s loyal four-legged companion, would stay behind to keep her company. The rest of us loaded into Robinson’s police car—Bowser in the front passenger seat, Peaches, Olivia, and I in the back—and headed off to the Super Walmart about eight miles southwest of Canaveral Groves.
When we reached the outer limits of the store, we realized immediately this trip wouldn’t be as painless as we first thought. On a normal day, navigating through a Walmart parking lot could be a nightmare. People walking every which way, not the least bit concerned with being hit by a car. Kids running far ahead of their parents. Kids lagging far behind their parents. Cars running stop signs, climbing curbs, parking sideways, fighting over handicap spaces.
Today, though . . .
Today was on a totally different level.
Living on Florida’s east coast all my life, we’d experienced our fair share of hurricanes, and far more than our fair share of hurricane scares. You know, those storms that look like they’re coming right at you and then at the last minute take a quick turn. No matter how many times it happened, people would always rush out to buy supplies like the apocalypse was coming. This time, the apocalypse had actually come, and it made even the legitimate concerns of an inevitable hurricane landfall seem miniscule in comparison. Forget the midnight crowds on Black Friday; this was easily the greatest car clusterfuck I’d ever witnessed.
“Jesus Christ,” Robinson said. “There’s no way in.”
Cars blocked both entrances to the parking lot, as well as the grassy median between them. Every parking spot and every parking lane was filled. Even if we had Doc Brown’s flying DeLorean from Back to the Future, the only place left to park would be on the roof of the building.
Robinson pulled the car as close as he possibly could and then shut off the engine. “Hope nobody has a problem with walking.”
“If the outside of the store looks like this, I can’t imagine what the inside looks like,” Peaches said.
Five minutes later, after a brisk walk weaving between parked cars, none of us would have to imagine any longer. We had to stop to take it all in, and to not step on someone.
People.
Everywhere.
As far as the eye could see. Down every aisle. At every register, even those that were self-checkout. At customer service. At the pharmacy. Even at the vision center of all places. And guess what else we saw.
Shopping carts.
Everywhere.
Loaded to the brim with all kinds of crap. The cart well, however, was completely empty. If we didn’t want to carry everything around, we’d have to first do some unloading.
After I’d finished cleaning out a nearby cart, I realized one of the wheels was fucked up. “I’m not surprised,” I said, looking at Peaches. “But it’ll have to do.”
We decided to take different parts of the store. Robinson and Bowser would get the groceries while Peaches and I would go after everything else. The worst part was finding open lanes to push the cart through. Did I mention there were people everywhere? Face up, face down, lying all around. On occasion, Peaches would have to help me drag someone out of the way. It was embarrassing for them. The best part, besides the fact that everything in the store today was FREE, was that just like the hospital, Walmart had a backup generator, which meant we could still enjoy the soothing sounds of Lady Gaga broadcasted over the speakers while we shopped.
It took some time, but we found just about everything on the list, minus the generator. In fact, the best place to search wasn’t t
he shelves (which were often wiped out), but the other shopping carts. Had we been so fortunate to find a cart that contained everything on the list, we could have been back at Robinson’s house already eating dinner. As it was, Robinson and Bowser finished before we did, which wasn’t surprising given that we had more ground to cover.
“No generator?” Robinson asked as we met him back at the front of the store. I shook my head. “Ah well, as long as we got candles we’ll be fine for now. I’ve heard horror stories of people setting their houses on fire with those portable generators anyway.”
I nodded. “But no one’s ever set their house on fire with candles.”
Robinson sighed. “Smart ass.”
We pushed the shopping carts through the metal maze outside back to Robinson’s squad car. We loaded the smaller items into plastic bags before transferring everything to the trunk, and then headed back to Robinson’s house. While we were shopping, the sun had decided it was time to set. The sky was a dark blue, and getting darker by the minute. By the time we reached Canaveral Groves, the only light around was from the car’s headlights.
“Who wants to help me with dinner?” Robinson asked.
“I’ll help,” Bowser said.
“I’ll help too,” Peaches said.
When I didn’t say anything, Peaches looked over at me. “What?” I finally said.
“Are you gonna help, Jimmy?” she asked.
“I could, but I’m not much for cooking, unless you need something microwaved. I’ve never even used a grill before.”
Robinson laughed, turned his head back to us, and said, “You leave the grilling to me.”
And that was all it took, that little turn of his head, enough to take his eyes off the road for just one measly little second. Enough to kill the mood in the car, and possibly someone outside the car.
They flew up onto the hood, hit the front windshield, and then rolled off the side. Unlike what you might see in a movie, the front windshield did not crack.
“What in the fuck was that?” Robinson yelled. He slowly pulled the car to a stop.
“We hit somebody,” Bowser said.
We all looked out the back window to see if we could see anyone, but it was too dark.
Dead Highways: Origins Page 11
