Piggyback (2 page)

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Authors: Tom Pitts

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Where did you say these girls are from?


Chico.


Chico?


Chico State,

said Paul.


Chico State Penitentiary?


Very funny.


They

re from Chico, or they go to school in Chico?


I

m not sure, I think they might be from Sacramento, but they live up in Chico.


A lot of trust for someone you know nothing about.


I

ve done stuff with them before, they

re good girls. Rebecca and Michelle. They

re not the types to burn someone like me. They might be in trouble, you know.


Well, you definitely are.

Paul clammed up and stared out the window. Jimmy kept driving. They passed through Civic Center, across Market, and onto 8
th
Street. When they took a left on Bryant and started up a freeway on-ramp, Paul asked where they were going.


I guess we

re going to Chico, unless you got any better ideas.

Chico

 

The ride was long and boring, a solid three-hour drive. The suburban hills of the Bay gave way to flatlands and farmlands. Paul smoked cigarette after cigarette and spun the dial on the radio constantly. Jimmy stayed mostly quiet, trying not to let himself get too annoyed by Paul. Every few miles he

d ask Paul a question or two. Questions like: How did you meet these girls? Do they have boyfriends? Have you been to their houses? Do you have their last names? What kind of car are they driving? Who packed the load? Ever seen them do blow? Are they into other shit, other drugs? Every once in a while he

d ask the same question over again, seeing if Paul

s answer would change. 

All of Paul

s answers sounded like apologies. The more that came out of his mouth, the more both of them realized he had no idea what he was talking about.


You think I should call Kevin the rose guy?

asked Paul.


No, he

s not gonna tell you anything. Kevin

s an idiot. If he

s in on it, we

ll find out, but he ain

t gonna tell us.

Jimmy kept his eyes on the road. They approached Interstate 505 and Jimmy pulled over for gas. As Jimmy unbuckled his seatbelt, Paul asked,

Hey, do you think you could get me some smokes?

Jimmy was dumbfounded.

Seriously, Paul? You

re broke? You got nothing?

Paul looked embarrassed, sheepish, at least he tried to.


Tell me something, my friend, what

s in this goose-chase for me?


I thought you were helping me out.


Before I start laying out anymore dough, before I drive another inch, what the fuck am I getting out of this?

Paul sat silent, not wanting to make promises he couldn

t keep.


That

s what I thought,

said Jimmy. He slammed the door and went in to purchase gas and cigarettes. He pumped the gas and got back into the car. They were back on the road again. Jimmy kept the cigarettes in his pocket. He waited. After about fifteen miles Paul began to fidget and pout.


You said there was five kilos?

It came out of the blue.


Yeah,

said Paul,

and the weed.


I don

t want any part of the weed,

said Jimmy.

But here

s what I do want, when we get this shit back, I want one kilo. That

s it. Finder

s fee.


Fuck, Jimmy. Jose

ll shit. What am I gonna tell him?


Tell him the kids ripped it off, it was all we could recover. You don

t think he

ll be happy to have eighty percent back? Of course he will.


I dunno, man.


Sure you do. You don

t have a choice. It

s one kilo or I turn around right now.

Paul looked out the window. He knew he couldn

t do this on his own.


All right.


And
any money we happen to find.


Jesus, Jimmy.


I think you should let me call Kevin, too,

Jimmy said.


Yeah, yeah, you can use my phone.


And I think you should let me call Jose.


Yeah, of course, you know him better than I do. But we should wait, shouldn

t we? That guy hates my guts. He always acts like such a hard-ass around me.

Jimmy turned his head a little so Paul wouldn

t see him smile. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes and tossed them into Paul

s lap.


He
is
a hard-ass. He

s a pro. And before you ask me, yes, this is something he

ll kill you for.

Paul opened the pack, mumbled a thank-you, and stuck one into his mouth. There was the slightest tremor in his right hand when he tried to light it. He noticed Jimmy watching him and rolled up the window to steady the flame.


Those

ll kill you too,

said Jimmy,

but not as quick as Jose. Cancer

d be more fun, too.

After a few more exits, Jimmy pulled off into a Walmart parking lot. He told Paul to wait in the car. He went in and purchased two mobile phones, the kind that you paid for by the minute. Untraceable. Burners, his friends called them. He grabbed a pack of mints, paid cash, and walked back out to the car. 

Paul was out of the car, leaning on the Camry

s hood, sunglasses on, smoking another cigarette. He watched Jimmy approach with the plastic Walmart bag. The sun was going down. Paul felt the warmth of it on his face. It would have been a beautiful day if not for the fuck-up. The valley sun was warmer and friendlier than the sun in San Francisco. He felt like having a drink.

Jimmy walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. He unzipped a small blue duffle bag and threw in one of the phones. He ripped open the packaging on the other and got into the car. When Paul hadn

t followed him, he tapped the horn once. He watched Paul

s body jerk back into the present. Paul took off his sunglasses and got into the passenger seat.  


What

s Kevin

s number?


What

s that?

asked Paul, pointing to the phone.


A burner, dumbass. I got you one, too. Smarten up and start acting like a professional and maybe we can get Jose

s shit back. Now what

s Kevin

s number?


It

s in my phone. You think it

s okay to open? You think they can trace it?


Did you ever bother to turn it off?

Paul hesitated before saying,

No.


Do you even have GPS?

Again,

No.


I don

t think it

s something we have to worry about just yet.

Paul flipped open his phone, an older model Razor, beat-up and well-used, and began to thumb through the contact list. He found Kevin

s number and handed the phone to Jimmy.


You want Jose

s number, too?


I already got Jose

s number,

said Jimmy, tapping his temple,

up here. Under bad-ass. But let

s just start with Kevin the flower boy right now. We don

t want to get Jose upset over nothing.

He punched in the digits and looked over at Paul. Paul looked back at him, wide-eyed and expectant; his face tightened a little every time he could hear a ring. Jimmy opened the door and got out of the car before Kevin answered. He walked in front of the vehicle where Paul couldn

t hear the conversation. The sun began to slip behind the huge Walmart sign. Paul sat and waited, fidgeting with his sunglasses and wanting that drink more than ever.

  When Jimmy climbed back into the car, he said,

Got an address. Looks like Rebecca

s got a boyfriend.


That was easy, what

d you tell him?


I told him that if he didn

t give me something I was driving straight to Salt Lake City to shoot him, that

s all. No problem. I told him that I was less than seven hundred miles, that I already have his address and couldn

t wait to see him.


Do you? Have his address, I mean.


No, but like I told you, Kevin

s an idiot.

Jimmy smiled at Paul. Paul even managed to smile back.

 

 

When they pulled into Chico it was well past dark. The moon was bright and stars littered the sky, something Jimmy had almost forgotten about living in the fog of San Francisco.
Luna cacciatore
, the hunter

s moon. They navigated the streets looking for the address that Kevin surrendered. The houses were mostly older single-story jobs occasionally punctuated with a short apartment building in between. 


I think it

s a bit further up, maybe closer to the campus?


How would you know, Paul, you ever even been to this town before?

Jimmy

s patience with Paul was waning. He knew Paul had a jones on. He kept asking to stop for a drink. Jimmy knew this task would be better accomplished alone.


There it is, up on the left,

Jimmy said. They were across the street from a large, older two-story home that had been converted into smaller apartments. From the tattered curtains and the skull and crossbones flag that hung in the front window, Jimmy guessed that the boyfriend lived upstairs. He pulled under a large oak, out of the glow of the street light.


What now?

asked Paul.


Now we sit awhile and see if anyone is home.

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