Piggyback (4 page)

“
In my pocket, in my front pocket.
”

Jimmy rolled the boy over and dug the phone out. When they were facing each other, Tristan looked his captor in the eye. Jimmy winked. He walked over to Jerrod and asked,
“
Cell phone?
”

Tristan answered for his friend,
“
His is on the kitchen counter.
”

Jimmy sat back down on the couch with the wallets and cell phones spread out in front of him.  He began to go through the contact lists, making notes of the obvious numbers like, home, mom. Jerrod
’
s phone had a listing for Kevin Rose. He set the phone down and picked up the small square mirror off the table, got up and waked over to Jerrod. He pulled his head up by the dreadlocks again. There was a smattering of blood where his face had been resting on the floor.

“
You like to do blow, huh?
”

“
No, no, no
…”

With the palm of his hand, Jimmy smashed the mirror on Jerrod
’
s forehead. One of the cell phones began vibrating. Jimmy let his head drop back down onto the shards of glass on the floor and walked back to the table. It was Tristan
’
s phone. He looked at the caller ID. Shelly—
Michelle
. Another question answered. The phone kept buzzing. He thought about answering it; just to hear her voice.

“
Michelle is calling,
”
he said to Tristan.

Tristan squeezed his eyes tight. Jimmy smiled. He waited for a moment and the phone blinked. Voicemail waiting. He was about to reach out and pick it up when Jerrod
’
s phone began to buzz. The caller ID read Becky. Perfect.

Paul had been sitting in the car with the window open, smoking steadily, and waiting. He only had three smokes left and didn
’
t want to ask Jimmy for another pack. He was patient at first, but after thirty minutes, he started to worry. He kept looking up at the apartment. At first he could see shadows moving around, but that was a while ago. There had been no movement for at least fifteen minutes. No one was coming out. He wished that Jimmy had left him one of those burners so he could call and see what was happening, or at least the keys to the fucking car so he could listen to some music to calm his frayed nerves. For the second time, Paul pulled out his baggie and did another bump. Two times, each nostril.

He had just put the bag back in his pocket when he saw shadows moving upstairs. The door opened and lighted the stairway. He saw three people walking down the stairs, the two young men that they
’
d watched going in and Jimmy bringing up the rear. The two in front had their hands behind their backs, like they were under arrest. Paul
’
s brain flashed on that badge again. What if Jimmy really was a cop?

When they reached the car, Paul could see that the first kid, the one with the short dreadlocks, was bleeding from the mouth. The second one seemed only scared. Jimmy opened the rear door for them to get in. He swept his hand courteously, like a ma
î
tre de.
“
After you, gentlemen.
”

When they were in their seats, Jimmy leaned in and buckled their seatbelts.

“
For safety?
”
Jerrod asked, trying once again to sound sarcastic, tough.

“
For the man,
”
said Jimmy. Then he winked.

Once they had hit the open road, Paul asked,
“
What now, where
’
re we going?
”

“
Sacramento.
”

“
Sac? What for?
”

“
To visit their girlfriends.
”

Paul looked behind him at the two sullen faces in the back seat and asked,
“
Either of you two got any smokes?
”

Neither said a word.

Jimmy produced a pack of American Spirits from his jacket and tossed them into Paul
’
s lap.
“
I found those upstairs.
”

“
American Spirits? Ugh, hippie shit,
”
said Paul as he opened the box and shook one out. He lit up and took a few drags before turning around to look at their passengers again.

“
That lip looks kinda bad.
”

“
It
’
s not.
”
It was the first thing Jerrod had said since they began moving.

“
Damn, your face don
’
t look too good either.
”

The welt under Jerrod
’
s eye was swelling and turning a deep shade of purple.

“
Who are you guys?
”
asked Paul.

“
Don
’
t tell them your name,
”
said Jimmy. Paul looked confused, he wasn
’
t sure if Jimmy was talking to him or the boys.  Jimmy looked at Paul.
“
You
, don
’
t tell them your name.
”
  Paul nodded and turned again toward the back seat.

The boys sat silent anyway.

They rode that way for a few more minutes, classic rock playing quietly on the radio. Jimmy finally spoke.

“
Dreadlocks with the busted lip, that
’
s Jerrod, Becky
’
s boyfriend, and Captain Braveheart there, that
’
s Tristan. That
’
s Michelle
’
s boyfriend.
”
He looked into the rearview mirror.
“
Ain
’
t that right, gentlemen?
”

Tristan looked like he was about to cry. Jerrod rolled his eyes.

“
You guys want one of your smokes?
”
asked Paul. The boys stayed silent.

They made their way back to the interstate and started south toward Sacramento. Paul continued to change the radio station midway through each song. The passengers in back remained mute. When they were far enough away from any lights or civilization, Jimmy took an exit and drove straight into the flat barren countryside. They were the only car on an unpainted asphalt road.  When he figured they were far enough away from the freeway, he pulled over and shut off the engine. He pulled the stun gun from his pocket and turned on the dome light. From his breast pocket he took the boy
’
s driver
’
s licenses and set them on the seat beside him. He turned toward the boys and crackled the gun. The sound was loud, crisp, and frightening.

“
What the fuck?
”
said Jerrod.

Jimmy didn
’
t say a word. He pushed the stun gun into Jerrod
’
s chest and hit the button. Jerrod
’
s head flew back, a fine mist of blood from his lip hit the roof of the car. Jimmy turned toward Tristan and repeated the shock.

“
Jesus, Jimmy,
”
said Paul. Jimmy glared at him for mentioning his name.

The boys began to recover from the shock and Jimmy gave them each one more. He waited again for them to recover.

“
Who lives at these addresses?
”

Tristan spoke first.
“
What addresses?
”

Jimmy gave him a short zap with the stun gun.

“
The address on your license, Tristan Boliaire.
”

“
That
’
s my parent
’
s house.
”
The boy
’
s voice was raspy and cracked like he had just hit puberty. 

Jimmy looked at Jerrod.
“
How
‘
bout you? You live with mommy and daddy too?
”

Jerrod nodded, his mouth hurt too much to talk.

“
Do either of you know where the girls were calling from?
”

“
No, no. You didn
’
t let us answer the phone.
”
Tristan
’
s answers had become whimpers.

“
We
’
re gonna find out. We
’
re gonna find out everything.
”
Jimmy reached down and gave Jerrod a long zap in the crotch.

“
You
’
re going to kill him,
”
pleaded Tristan.

Jimmy held the stun gun up to Tristan
’
s chin.
“
This won
’
t kill him. Trust me; I
know
what will kill him. You guys not telling me what I what to know, that
’
s what will kill him.
”
Jimmy pushed the button; the shock flipped Tristan
’
s head back.

“
Jesus,
”
Paul said again. Each time the boys were shocked, he squinted and winced like he felt it.
“
Hey, can I talk to you for a minute.
”

“
Nope,
”
said Jimmy. The line of questioning continued. So did the shock treatment.

In a large two-story house in the east Sacramento neighborhood known as the Fabulous Forties, Shelly and Becky sat at the kitchen table of Shelly
’
s parent
’
s home. The house was dark and empty except for the girls in the kitchen. The large antique dining table was empty too, except for the girls huddled in one corner in front of a plastic tray with a few bright green buds, a grinder, rolling papers, and an ashtray.

“
Why aren
’
t those assholes calling us back?
”
said Becky.

“
I don
’
t know. They
’
ll call. Open the sliding glass door, the house stinks like bud.
”

“
They got our messages. They
’
re not calling on purpose. What the hell are they doing? Jerrod can be such a dick.
”

“
Please, open the door; I can
’
t have it smelling like weed in here.
”

“
Mellow out, there
’
s no one coming home.
”
Becky walked across the dining room area and slid open the glass door that opened onto an expansive wood deck.
“
There.
”

“
They
’
ll call; maybe they
’
re on the way. Maybe their phones were off.
”

“
Both their phones? I don
’
t think so. I
’
m calling those assholes again. I can
’
t believe they
’
d pick a time like this to flake.
”

“
They
’
re not flaking. Just wait.
”
Shelly twisted the grinder and tapped out the crushed marijuana onto the tray. She scooped the pot into a rolling paper and twisted it between her fingers. She handed the short, fat joint to Becky.

“
Shit, big enough?
”

“
There
’
s plenty. Spark it up.
”

The girls passed the joint back and forth, taking deep pulls and pausing only to cough. Halfway though, Becky got up and walked to the kitchen and opened up the fridge.

“
Got anything to drink?
”

“
Yeah, there
’
s white wine in the door. Don
’
t touch my dad
’
s beer, he
’
ll kill me.
”