“It’s just the way people talk.”
“I … I guess that’s true. I mean, the Israelis, they have women in their army. In combat, I mean. And I know they had a woman Prime Minister once. But all I could do was … hide. That’s all I could do. Like a little kid in a closet, afraid of the monsters in the house.”
“What the fuck did you want to do?”
“Why are you mad at me, Sugar?”
“Why? You’re saying I’m nothing, and I’m supposed to just—”
“How could you even think—?”
“You’re better at things than me, right?”
“I never said—”
“Yeah, you did. And you are. But you’re not better at everything. This … this work that had to be done; you did your part, then I did mine. That’s what happened. And what’s coming out of your mouth? Ah, you’re such a piece of crap because you didn’t handle the whole thing yourself, like you’re supposed to, right?”
“I … I see what you mean. I was just being a bitch, Sugar.”
“I don’t think so.”
“All right, I was scared. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No.”
“You won’t even say my name, will you?”
“Which name do you want?”
“You bastard!” She tried to reach over and slap at me, but the seatbelt held her in place.
It was another hour before she spoke to me again.
“He’s … dead? You’re sure?”
“Which one?”
“Oh. Jessop, I guess.”
“You guess? Jesus.”
“Sugar, please, stop. You’re thinking, ‘That’s the one she cared about,’ aren’t you?”
“What if I was?”
“And that makes you mad?”
I didn’t say anything.
She unbuckled her seatbelt, turned so she was kneeling on the cushion, and leaned over. To kiss me on the side of my face.
“Don’t be mad, Sugar. You’d be mad for all the wrong reasons.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You think I still have feelings for Jessop, don’t you?”
“I don’t know who you’ve got—”
“Stop! I had feelings for Jessop, all right. I was terrified of him. When Albie died, the first thing that hit me was, Jessop’s going to come for me now. I think that’s why Albie kept him on. Working, I mean. So that when he … when he died—okay?—I’d know where to find him. Jessop. And kill him, like I should have done.
“That’s what I was so upset about before. I shouldn’t have been hiding under those coats, trembling, trying not to whimper. I shouldn’t have been hiding from him; I should have been hunting him.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t have confidence in you. Not for a minute. I knew Jessop was as good as dead from the minute you … took over. I was … ashamed, okay? I put up this big front, but it was all a lie. I wanted you to do it, Sugar.
“You know what I did, under those coats? Sucked my thumb. Like a baby. You think I didn’t believe you could take care of things, but the truth is, I knew you could. And the worse truth is, I knew I couldn’t.”
“All you can ever say is you thought you couldn’t. You’ll never have the chance to find out now. He’s not coming back.”
“I love you,” is what she said.
It was around four in the afternoon when I finally woke up. Lynda was still next to me.
“About time,” she said. So I knew she must have been awake for a while.
“You been watching the news?”
“Yes. Not a word.”
“There’s gonna be.”
“That depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“Tactics.”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“Then go take a shower and I’ll get you something to eat.”
“They may never find that motorcycle,” she said, watching me as I ate. “Who’s going to report it missing? So why would they be looking for it at all, much less on the property?”
I shrugged my shoulders, chewing slow, like you’re supposed to.
“That skinhead, him they’ll find. But so what? People like that, they get killed every day. For all kinds of reasons. By all kinds of people.”
I nodded. They’re always talking about wiping out every mud on the planet, but they spend more time on killing each other. Saw it plenty of times in prison. Sometimes it’s because they find out something about the guy, like he’s got the wrong blood in him. Or sometimes it’s just to be doing it.
“And Jessop?” Lynda said. “Ex-con found dead in the trunk of a car he stole in Miami, with a pistol in his belt. Who knows what that’s about? The gun won’t be registered. All they’ll ever be able to do is trace the car and find out the owner’s a person who doesn’t exist, a man who lives at an address in a neighborhood where nobody knows nothing. And they won’t be lying about that, either.”
“Your prints are in the—”
“In the Lincoln? Sure, baby. But not in the system. Without a match, they hit a wall. And I had the car detailed after that first time you used it.”
The way Lynda ran it down, I sounded like a criminal mastermind. But I knew better.
“Traces of me could be in that car, too, girl. Maybe not prints, but some kind of DNA. That’s all they’ll need, if they decide to go that route.”
“What good would DNA do them?”
“If you’re a convicted sex offender, they take a DNA sample from you. And there’s a national database.”
“How could you be a—?”
That’s when I told her how me getting railroaded had started this whole thing.
I don’t remember what I said. I don’t even remember when I finished. All I remember is Lynda holding me before … I guess I don’t even know before what, but when I woke up, the side of my face was against her chest, and my arm was all the way across her body. She’d probably fallen asleep when she realized she couldn’t get out from under all my weight.
For a minute, I thought I was losing it: every word made me think of another word, like this … chain, or something.
Weight. I did take the weight.
Wait. I had waited, just like the rules say.
I got my money from Solly. I made sure Jessop was never going to roll on anyone, ever. Just like Solly wanted.
Solly couldn’t do time, not at his age. But that book. That’s what Solly really wanted, wasn’t it? And I had that book now.
Solly couldn’t do time, and I had the book … so everything was back where it was supposed to be. All I had to do was go back, give Solly everything he wanted: the book and the news about Jessop. Lynda, she’d go … wherever she wanted, I guessed.
What I really wanted was for her to go with me. But where was I going? Where the fuck was I going?
I had to see Solly. Albie had it right. Solly was a traitor. And not just to whatever those hard men were doing. He sent me down to Florida to tie up a loose end. That was a lie. But now I had a loose end of my own. As long as Solly was alive, I’d never be safe.
I couldn’t bring Lynda with me for what I had to do.
Big Matt, he got himself out. But he knows how to do legit things. The only things I know how to do, I could only do until I got caught doing them.
I couldn’t bring Lynda to Solly, and I couldn’t take her to prison with me, either.
“Sugar?”
“I didn’t know you were awake.”
“My … head is awake. But I can’t move my arm.”
“It’s just cramped, girl. You’re not built to have that much weight on you. I can put the … feeling back in it pretty quick, but that would hurt. Could you just, like, lay there for a couple of hours? With the weight off, your arm’ll come—”
She looked like a little girl trying to be tough. “I’d like to do that,” she said. “But I have to … use the bathroom, okay?”
Before she could s
ay anything to stop me, I scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. I put her down there, but I held on. Good thing—she couldn’t stand on her own. I pulled off her underpants with one hand, put her on the toilet.
She looked pretty steady. Her right arm was working, and she braced herself with it.
“I’ll be close enough to hear you,” I told her. Then I backed out of the bathroom without closing the door. I moved a few steps away.
When I heard the toilet flush, I went to her. But she was already sort of standing against the sink, holding herself with that one good hand and arm.
I stepped behind her. “I’ve got you, Lynda.” I turned on the water. It heated up quick, so I dialed it back. Then I held her at the waist. “Use your good hand to wash the other one.”
When she was finished, I put her on the couch so her arm was stretched out along the top.
“Wet heat, that’s best. You stay there.”
“Okay, boss,” she said. Smiling.
I felt good, too. Doing something I knew something about. I put a whole layer of dry towels under her arm, then one of the steaming-hot ones over it. Then I put some dry ones over everything, to keep the heat in.
“How long will it take?”
“Can you feel anything?”
“Not … not really.”
“When you start to feel something … the towels are too hot, or even if they’re all cold, as soon as you can feel them, it won’t be long after that.”
“Could I have a—?”
I was already there before she finished. She held the lit cigarette in her good hand, and took a deep puff like it was a painkiller.
“You should put something in your stomach, Lynda.”
“Don’t be such a big nag.”
All of a sudden, her face changed. “I was just teasing you, Sugar. Soon as I’m done with this, I’ll have soup, okay? Just take one of the cans from the—”
“I know how to make soup.”
“Stop pouting, you big baby.” The way she said it, it felt like a kiss.
By the time she got back to herself, it was dark out. I had made myself some soup, too. Then I found enough ways to get a decent workout. Made me feel better. But not that much.
I took a quick shower. When I came out, she was on the couch. “I don’t know what to do,” I told her.
“We’ve got to make a decision, Sugar.”
My mouth got all dry. “We.” Was that, we each had to make a decision, or we had to make one together?
“How many sets of clean ID do you have?” she asked me.
“Besides my own?”
“You have real—?”
“What I mean, I am Tim NMI Caine, for real.”
“NMI?”
“No middle initial. That’s what it says on my record. Timothy NMI Caine, a.k.a. Sugar.”
“Not counting that one.”
“All I’ve got is the one Solly fixed me up with—” I stopped myself even before I saw her mouth move. “I know,” I told her.
“I’ve only got that one clean set,” she said. “Lynda Leigh. There’s others, but those were for living with Albie. And after that note …”
“How old is it?”
“What?”
“Lynda Leigh. That set.”
“Oh. Well … I’ve had it for a long time. That makes an ID really strong, when you use it for things. Like credit cards.”
“Albie taught you to make ID, right?”
“So? What are you saying, Sugar?”
“I wonder how clean that Lynda Leigh stuff really is.”
“How can you even say that? Albie—”
“I know, you made it yourself, sure. But that was when Albie was still teaching you, right? So maybe, by the time he was teaching you, he didn’t have the … technique to do it himself anymore.”
“Yes, he did,” she said. Her eyes burned me like the tips of two cigarettes. “I made the ID, with him watching. He could lose his perfect touch, maybe, but he’d never lower his standards. That I know for sure.”
“I’m not saying this right, Lynda. I’m just saying, behind that note he left and all, isn’t there a chance those men who come to visit, they’ve got a copy of it all?”
“Then they’d know how to find me, Sugar. And Albie never would have left that note then, would he?”
“He couldn’t say two things in the same note.”
“But he did. He couldn’t know who’d see it, don’t you understand?”
“Sure. He could say some things. But, like you said, he couldn’t know who’d see it first. So he couldn’t tell you, ‘Nuke that Lynda Leigh ID,’ see?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t see! There’s a thousand ways Albie could have said that without them knowing what he was talking about.”
“You’re sure?”
She walked off. Came back in a minute and sat down in the same place. Only, she had a little piece of paper in her hands. I knew what it was. She motioned me to look over her shoulder, pointing with a red fingernail.
“Hah!” she said. “See?”
“See what?”
“See where he says, ‘You know where to go’? Albie never would have told me to come here if he’d shown that ID to those men. Never.”
“You’re right.”
“What? Just like that, you turn around and—”
“Didn’t he also say something about there was no will?”
Her long red fingernail moved. “Yes! Just like you said, Sugar. Right here. He says—”
“You see that? Albie was the smartest player in the whole game. Solly never had a chance.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about now?”
“Where’s Albie’s stamp collection, Lynda?”
“What stamp collection? Are you crazy? What would Albie want with collecting stamps?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that locks it down. Solly thought he had it going both ways. And he’d take either one.”
“What?”
“What if I’d just asked you, when I first showed up, I mean, ‘Where’s Albie’s little blue book?’ You’d say you didn’t know what I was talking about, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. I already told you what—”
“Wait. I ask you, and you say you don’t know what I’m talking about. Fine, that’s what you already told Solly by not mentioning it. So then I say, ‘Okay, then, what about his stamp collection?’ Now you really know something’s wrong, see?”
“Sugar, if you don’t tell me—”
“I will, if you’ll shut up a minute. See, all that time you’d be thinking I’m lying. Me, I’d know you’re lying.
“Be Solly for a minute. You send Sugar down to get a blue book. He has to come back with that book. You know Sugar. If he says he’ll do it, he’ll do it.
“Sugar doesn’t get a charge out of hurting people. He looks scary. You, you’re a girl Albie … keeps. Probably all Sugar has to do is lean on you a little bit. Only, you say there’s no book.
“That might be true. To Sugar, I’m saying. It might sound right to him. You’re a live-in girlfriend, the guy’s old enough to be your grandfather; why tell you any real secrets? And you made sure to play it that way, too. Remember that, Miss Plastic Tits?
“So, in Sugar’s mind, you might not know about that book. Why would Albie trust you that much? But there’s no way you wouldn’t know about the stamp collection. Which means you’re a stone liar. And you do know where that little blue book is.”
“So then Sugar wouldn’t mind hurting me, is that what you’re saying?”
“Wouldn’t mind tying you up and taking the house apart, piece by piece. The book’d have to be in that house, somewhere.”
“And if he still didn’t find it …?”
“In Solly’s mind? Sugar, he’d either make you talk or make you dead.”
“What a purely evil man.”
“Not evil enough, girl. I was the best Solly had, and I never had a chance against Albie, not even
against his ghost. He had it set up so Solly’d play himself out of position, no matter what. Remember, you said those guys who came around, they were the real thing. Hard men, you called them.”
“They were.”
“That’s what Solly always said about Ken. That he was a hard man. If it was Ken coming around to see you, you know what he’d do? He’d find out the truth before he did anything. He’d look real close. And Albie, he left his mark on Solly. Put him right on the spot.”
She started to open her mouth, then brought her lips together.
“You know what Albie’s mark is, girl? That ‘will’ he was supposed to have sent to Solly. If the hard men showed up and found Albie gone, they would have called Solly, right? And Solly, first thing out of his mouth, he’d tell them all about the partners desk. But once the hard men saw that paper Albie left, he’s cooked. Solly’s getting himself some visitors. When they show, no mattter what story he tells, he’s a dead man.
“Solly, all those years, he still had Albie figured wrong. That’s why he’d tell those hard men about the desk in a flash. That’s a prove-in, that he knew Albie’s secrets. Only, it was Albie who knew Solly’s secrets. See?”
“Oh God.”
“Yeah. And now that we know that, we know what we have to do. It’s easy.”
“What’s easy?”
“Making choices. When you’ve only got one, I mean. My ID, it’s not worth crap to me, but it’s gold to Solly. My credit card’s a goddamned tracking unit, like it was stuck under my skin. Solly could find me, no matter where I went.”
“So what can we do?”
“We’re gonna burn my ID.”
“And I make you a new—?”
“Not burn it with a match, Lynda. Burn it by using it.”
“Sugar, I’m not keeping up.”
I can’t really explain how her saying that made me feel. I wasn’t trying to confuse her or anything, but I could see that it was me who knew what to do. Me, not Lynda. I knew what to do. So I told her:
“We’re going back to New York. You and me. We’ll rent a car. And not just so the Caddy’s plates won’t show on any turnpike scanner, either. It’s a long drive. We’ll have to stop along the way. In a motel, like. That’s two ways to use the card. And there’s others, too. Like buying gas. Or food.
The Weight Page 24
