Six Bad Things Part 35

--A half f.u.c.king mile?

Rolf puts his hands up palm out.

--Dudes, chill. Even if they find it.

--When they find that car they're gonna wrap up this whole area. We have to go.

Sid points to Rolf.

--Told you, dude.

--Dude! You said it'd be cool.

--Well, you were all, We can't walk too far. So, I was, like, OK, we can leave it at the motel, but we don't want to be around it too long, and you were all, No prob, we'll scoop up Hank and be outy. So, yeah, I said it was cool to be here for a little while, but dude, not this long.

They grab their day packs while I collect the cell phone and my hat and put on my boots. Rolf goes out and starts the Cavalier. Sid and I wait inside for him to beep, telling us the coast is clear. The car horn sounds, and Sid starts to open the door. I put a hand on his shoulder.

--Hang on.

I run back to the spare room and find the map I bought at the ampm. I head back to the front door, but stop at the bathroom. My head feels like badly scrambled eggs. As much as I need to clean it out and get it straight, I also need to be mellow and clear for the next hour. I open the medicine cabinet and get out the Percs. I try to shake one onto the palm of my hand, but a whole pile tumbles out. I put one in my mouth, start to drop the others back into the bottle, and shove them in my pocket instead. T may be in bad shape. He may need them. That's what I tell myself.

SID AND I pile into the car, me in the back and Sid up front. Rolf pulls away from T's trailer and stops at the exit from the park. Sid and Rolf look left. Down the highway I can see the Super 8 sign, sticking up above the telephone poles. Rolf elbows Sid.

--See, dude, no problem.

--Whatever.

--Well, where to?

Where to? It's just after two PM. I slept for almost six hours. Might as well get started.

--Got that address?

Rolf pulls the sc.r.a.p of Hustler cover from the tight pocket of his leather pants.

--262 Jewel.

I uncrumple the map and spread it on my lap. I point to the right.

--That way.

--Dude, I thought we weren't supposed to show till six?

I check our route on the map. Jewel Avenue is just a few miles away. Ten minutes at most.

--No problem. She kept saying the sooner the better. And this way, we'll be done in time for kickoff.

Rolf flicks his turn signal and takes the right.

SANDY LIVES in a pink stucco tract house with a roof of fake ceramic tiles. There's a tidy little lawn out front with a sprinkler waving water over it. A red Miata with a dented back end is parked in the driveway. T's Chrysler and a black Land Cruiser are at the curb. Rolf drives past, flips a U-turn, and parks across the street. We sit there, the engine running, and Rolf adjusts the rearview mirror so he can see me without turning around.

--Dude, remember all that s.h.i.+t about me not being a tool?

I poke at one of the bruises on my torso.

--Yeah.

--Just for the record, I know something is f.u.c.ked-up here.

I can see only his eyes in the mirror, staring at mine. I shrug.

--OK.

He turns around.

--What I'm saying, dude, is, let's not f.u.c.k around here. For everybody's spiritual and physical well-being. Is there anything going on in there we need to know about?

I look at the house, then back at him.

--I don't know what you want me to say, man. You were there when I took the calls. Far as I know, Sandy took my buddy T home with her, he pa.s.sed out, she got the call from her guy, and now we're here. Are they gonna be displeased I brought friends? Sure as s.h.i.+t they are. Do I think it's gonna be trouble? No. Could the whole thing be a setup? s.h.i.+t, man, anything can be a setup. Should we be on our toes? Well, it always pays to be prudent, right? That's all I can say. If it's not good enough, we can drive out of here and wait for her to call again and set up something else. But I'd just as soon get this done.

He looks me over, turns back around, and looks at Sid. Sid nods. Rolf reaches under the dash and untangles the two red wires twisted together there, and the engine dies.

--OK. But, dude, if it's f.u.c.ked in there? Sooner or later we're just gonna get sick of your s.h.i.+t and kill you, money or no.

He opens his door and gets out. Sid tucks his pistol into the rolled waistband of his too-loose jeans, drops the tail of his s.h.i.+rt over it, and we get out and follow Rolf.

From the porch we can hear Hitler barking somewhere inside the house.

Rolf taps me.

--That your buddy's dog?

--I guess.

--What's he p.i.s.sed about?

--Nothing, he always barks.

I face Sid and Rolf.

--All paranoia aside, guys, let's remember these are just some mellow potheads. Try to be mellow too, OK?

Rolf shrugs.

--Hey, dude, they be mellow, we be mellow.

Sid adjusts the pistol in his waistband.

--Whatever.

I ring the bell.

Hitler's barking gets louder. I wait a minute, ring again, and hear what sounds like someone shouting at Hitler to shut up. We wait another minute, then Rolf nudges me.

--Ring again, dude.

--Hang on, they're probably sleeping or f.u.c.king or something.

Or getting ready to jump us.

--Just ring.

He reaches past me and pushes the b.u.t.ton three times in a row and Hitler gets even louder.

--Hang on! Who is it?

Sandy's voice, right on the other side of the door.

--Sandy! It's me, Wade.

Barking.

--Hey, baby, what's up?

--I'm here. Open up.

Barking.

The door opens a crack and Sandy's face is framed in the five-inch gap.

--Hey, hey, Wade.

--Hey, I got my s.h.i.+t together a little early and thought I'd come by.

--Yeah, uh.

She's looking past me to Rolf and Sid.

--Sorry, these are my buddies. They gave me a lift over. Is your guy around, or?

--Uh, uh, yeah, he's here, but.

She looks back into the house and then at us.

--He's here, but your buddies, they should. Can they wait in their car? He's in the kitchen and won't come out till they leave.

--Yeah, sure, but they're totally cool. Also.

I hook my thumb at Sid.

--He needs to use the can.

She bites her lip.

--Wade, this is pretty uncool. I mean you know.

--Yeah, but T knows these guys. They're cool. Go get him, he knows these guys are cool.

--Yeah, but T, T is still out, and.

--Jesus, what did you guys?

--We just came back and smoked out and he went down.

--Is he?

--He's cool, he's OK, but he's out.

--Cool, OK, but just let us in so he can use the can and then they'll leave and we can talk. Be cool and let the guy take a leak.

--Uh.

Another glance over her shoulder.

--Uh, OK, OK, that's cool. OK. Just, all of you can come in, that's cool.

She pulls the door open. I step inside. The house is dark. All the curtains are drawn. I pull my shades down my nose a bit so I can peek over them. Rolf and Sid come inside. Rolf nods at Sandy.

--Hey.

She half smiles at him.

--Hi.

Sid doesn't say anything. Sandy closes the door. She points straight ahead.

--You guys can kick it in the living room. The bathroom is just to the left.

I stay where I am.

--What's up with Hitler?

Sandy is wearing only a shorty kimono, her legs and feet bare. All her makeup is gone, her hair mussed, face flushed. I can see now how young she is; no more that twenty. She draws the kimono tighter, hiding the stars on her chest.

--He, he freaked a little and chased my cat, so I made T put him in the master bathroom.

--Hunh.