Piggyback (7 page)

The man still stood near the door, looking uncomfortable, like he hadn
’
t let anyone inside his house in years. He probably hadn
’
t. 

“
My name is Richard. I was just saying that I
’
m trying to hook-up with the kids and Jerrod said that they might be stopping by.
”

“
My Jerrod? Oh, I doubt that. That kid hasn
’
t been around here for months.
”

“
Months, huh?
”
Jimmy tried to scan the room for clues but there was so much clutter it hurt his head. These two were obviously tweakers, not cokeheads. The glass pipe was for meth and the missing teeth, the garbage, were all fallout. The only conclusion he could draw was: no wonder the kid hadn
’
t been there for months. It was a wonder he hadn
’
t been gone for years.

“
Terry, sit down, you
’
re makin
’
us nervous. Richard, would you like something to drink?
”

“
I don
’
t think he wants nothing to drink, Maria.
”

“
Terry, let the man answer for himself. Richard, would you like a beer, or a soda, or I think we have some Gatorade?
”

“
I
’
m fine, but I was wondering, do you have any way of reaching these kids.
”

“
I thought you were her uncle,
”
said Terry.
“
Don
’
t you have a phone number or something?
”
His tone was getting more suspicious, more hostile. He had started to pace back and for the in front of the TV
’
s. He felt in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Finding none, he began to open empty packs placed all over the room, hunting for a smoke. He found one, finally, inside a pack on top of the end-table where his wife had hidden the contraband. He lit up, blowing smoke across the couch.

“
Terry, that
’
s rude. Does smoke bother you, Richard?
”

Terry didn
’
t wait for Jimmy to answer.
“
Rude? It
’
s my fucking house. I
’
ll smoke when I want.
”

Maria ignored him,
“
Don
’
t mind him, he gets cranky if he doesn
’
t get his way.
”

Jimmy was between them now, turning his head from right to left like he was watching a tennis match.

“
Cranky? That
’
s the bitch calling the kettle black. What
’
s it to him if I smoke, it ain
’
t gonna kill him. You don
’
t even know who the fuck this guy is, Maria.
”

“
He told you. He
’
s Becky
’
s uncle. Weren
’
t you listening?
”
Maria smiled at Jimmy.
“
He never listens.
”

“
I seem to recall,
”
Terry said, straightening back up and blowing out a thick pillow of grey smoke,
“
that Becky has no Uncle.
”

“
Oh Terry, how would you know?
”

“
So, what is it there, Richard? Are you a brother to Becky
’
s mom or dad?
”

Jimmy paused a moment. He didn
’
t want to gamble on an answer.

“
Maybe you
’
re just one of them
funny
uncles. Is that what you are?
”

“
I don
’
t appreciate your line of inquiry.
”

“
Line of bullshit is more like it. Which is it, mom or dad?
”

Maria seemed to get more nervous with the rising tension. She reached across Jimmy and picked up the pack of cigarettes off the end-table and started picking through the debris on the coffee table looking for a light. She picked up three Bic lighters before finding one that worked.

“
Dad,
”
said Jimmy.

“
Bullshit, her dad is long dead and buried. Who the fuck are you, pal?
”

“
Terry, please.
”
Maria was all at once embarrassed and confused. She dragged deeply on her cigarette and blew the smoke up and away from the couch.

“
What? Why are you being so nice to this guy? You know this guy from somewhere? Is this the guy that
’
s been calling the house?
”

Jimmy
’
d had enough. These losers weren
’
t going to tell him anything useful. He stood up.

“
Where the fuck you think you
’
re going? You got some questions to answer.
”
Terry pointed a hooked, dirty finger at Jimmy.

Jimmy stayed calm and said,
“
I didn
’
t come here to answer questions, I came here to ask them.
”

“
I wanna know what the fuck you
’
re doing in my house, Mister.
”
Terry
’
s voice rose with each syllable. Tiny bits of spittle flew from his mouth.

“
I
’
m leaving. That
’
s what I
’
m doing.
”
Jimmy stepped out from behind the coffee table. He was close enough now to Terry that he could smell his foul breath. Jimmy punched him squarely in the stomach, his fist sinking in deep as the air expelled from Terry
’
s lungs. Terry dropped, curling up, trying to make some sort of sound.

Maria shrieked from the couch.

Jimmy turned to her and said,
“
Don
’
t get up.
”

“
Fuck you, asshole.
”
Her face was contorted into an ugly sneer as she started to get off the couch.

Jimmy spoke as slowly and as clearly as he could,
“
Don
’
t—get—up.
”

He then turned his back on the room and walked the short distance to the front door. Terry was still on the floor, curled up, still trying to make some sort of threat.

“
Terry
’
s gonna kill you, you son of a bitch.
”
Maria was on her feet now.

Jimmy, with his had on the doorknob, turned and said,
“
Smoke some more meth, maybe you
’
ll feel better,
”
and walked out of the house toward the car. He could hear her yelling,
“
Get him, Terry, get him,
”
at her useless husband as he climbed into the driver
’
s seat of the Camry.

“
How
’
d that go?
”
asked Paul.
“
Took ya long enough.
”

“
Not too good,
”
was all Jimmy said. He keyed the ignition and spat a little gravel from the driveway toward the house.

They hadn
’
t even reached the road when they heard a loud gunshot. One single shot. Jimmy looked in his rearview mirror and saw Terry standing in the doorway holding a pistol in his hand. The tires gripped the asphalt of the main road and they were gone.

“
What the fuck, did that guy shoot at us?
”
Paul was immediately wide-eyed and sober. He patted his chest, checking for bullet-holes, or a cigarette, or both.

“
It seems that way.
”
Jimmy was driving 35 mph, hoping not to attract any attention.

“
You okay?
”
Paul asked Jimmy before turning around and asking Tristan,
“
You okay? Holy shit.
”

Tristan nodded. Paul unscrewed the cap to his Jim Beam and took a healthy pull.

“
Jesus Christ, Jimmy, what the fuck? Did those guys have my shit? What the hell happened?
”

“
Nothing,
”
Jimmy answered, not registering that Paul had used his name again.
“
Nothing at all.
”

Jimmy kept his eyes on the road and drove straight north. Pulled over under a streetlight and got out of the car. Jimmy walked to the back and looked at the trunk. There was a single hole, round and perfect, on the right side of the trunk right under the word Camry. He opened the trunk. Inside, Jerrod was still. There was a round and perfect hole right in the middle of his forehead, too. It would have looked like a third eye except for the steady stream of blood pulsing from it. The blood ran in a straight line down into the boy
’
s dreadlocks and was beginning to puddle, a throbbing creek of red straight down into his matted hair. From the size of the hole, Jimmy figured it was only a .22. But it was enough, apparently. Jimmy closed the hood and got back into the car.

“
Is he all right back there?
”
asked Paul.

“
He
’
s fine. Anybody else hungry?
”

They drove for a while in silence until Jimmy spotted a drive-thru. In-N-Out Burgers. Jimmy pulled into the parking area, avoiding the long line of cars waiting for the drive-thru window, and parked in the back of the lot.

“
Stay in the car.
”

Jimmy went inside and ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate shake, and an In-N-Out bumper sticker. To go.  When he reached the car he saw Paul leaning on the hood, smoking.

“
I thought I told you to say in the car.
”

“
Jeez, Jimmy, I
’
m a little wound up. That really freaked me out.
”

“
Stop doing so much blow. Here, have some fries. Now, get back in the car.
”

Paul took the cardboard dish of fries and climbed back into the front seat, offering some to their prisoner. Jimmy walked around to the back of the car, set his food on the hood, took the bumper sticker out of the burger bag and peeled off the backing. He placed the sticker squarely over the round hole and smoothed it out with his hand. He got back into the driver seat. The fries sat untouched between the two seats.

“
Not hungry?
”
he said before unwrapping his burger and taking a big sloppy bite. He chewed quietly while the other two watched, then took two more bites, a long suck off the milkshake, and dropped the food out the window.
“
Me either.
”

“
What
’
s up with your mother?
”
asked Becky.

“
I told you she
’
s drunk. She
’
s always drunk.
”

“
No, I mean, what is she doing home?
”

“
Her and Dad had another fight. They always fight.
”

“
No, Shelly, I mean, this is going to fuck up our thing with the boys. They
’
re supposed to be here soon and your mom is stomping around the house like, like, I don
’
t know, a big drunk bitch.
”

“
Don
’
t worry, it
’
ll be fine. She
’
ll pass out and we
’
ll just walk right past her when the boys get here. She
’
s not gonna mess anything up.
”