THE Job 3
I had
slipped into reverie when I heard that the job would be, "down there", which
everyone in the life knew where that was shorthand for. Maybe I would drive the
extra miles afterwards and see her. We would have to split up lay low and it
might hedge my bets of not getting caught, one less steely eyed gringo trying to
melt back over the border after the bubbling up of trouble. Ana, all the fights,
broken promises, it would have melted away in the sun which bakes all the motion
out everything down here except seemingly the flies and those who loose their
cool and run to get out. It would take little enough effort to find out where
she ended up. I would not even have to worry about being too subtle in my
inquiries as common sense dictated someone who had just done a job would not be
calling the slightest attention to themselves by asking around about anything.
Half of the crew was young, out to make their bones but not patient enough to do
it in the right way. We met in a garage that was used for both cars and small
planes that would buzz mosquito like over the baked landscape, which was oven
like despite its size, even the shadows were set at a slow simmer. I had two
other direct peers who, as Ricardo paced back and forth toy wound too tight, not
paying enough attention to the plans, gave me a look that told me they thought
the hex was on and something bad was going to happen. The driver was the nephew
of a pal from the old days whose ticket was punched not by the lifestyle but a
botched surgery, he was young but versed in the ways and so would be ok.
"You
are a long way from Dublin Joyce."
He was glad to see a familiar face and
although he did not say it, as we shook hands I picked up on his counting on me
to get us through this in one piece, the defacto leader as Ricardo seemed more
interested in posturing, acting scenes from what the movies told him was hard.
There would now be two meetings, this pantomime of one used to placate
Ricardo and then back in my hotel room which I would have to make sure was clean
before hand, not too hard to do as it was basically a broom closet, the real one
where we went over a "B" plan for when Ricardo made things turn sideways. I
shaved and quickly did up a few hand drawn copies of a map to give out with the
points of interest, escape, hospital and hotel with even smaller, hotter rooms
but where they did not ask questions so long as you paid up front in cash. They
all crowded in bumping shins on my bed's corners. Half of me had the urge to
tell everyone that this was not going to work, we should all split but that
would bring on a whole new set of problems. I think perhaps Ricardo just wanted
to let the mad dog loose and did not care if it were on a job or to hunt down
someone who he thought had betrayed him. He could do what ever he wanted and
would not face censure as he could claim it had been a case of bread off of his
table, A matter of semantics but he would be half right. I bit down the urge and
fast, everyone was edgy and looking to me. "The thing is, not about not getting
caught, it is about not getting caught down here. " I took that worry off their
minds by letting them imagine it was already a foregone conclusion,the stripping
away of extraneous thoughts and worries it allowed for better concentration. I
looked around, almost everyone was here except of course Ricardo, his cousin and
his friend. I did not feel obligated to save their asses as either of them could
have at any point tried to help adjust Riccardo's attitude and make my
leadership unnecessary.
We all had to put on masks which was not his worst
idea but i noticed he only wore a bandana hooked over his nose and covering his
mouth. Our masks were all animals, sad mascots from imaginary teams. Joyce asked
why he too did not have to wear one. With a wink he said that down here everyone
looked alike and he could easily blend in unlike us. The sweat was stinging my
eyes the smell of something plastic burning, muffled voices yelling "Go-go-go"
as we jumped out at the curb, poor Joyce a drunk looking raccoon with a painted
on crooked smile. From the get go Ricardo came in heavy which was not necessary
as the only people in the place was an old guard a few years past retirement,
the owner's wife and two woman looking at bracelets as a way to kill their lunch
break. Ricardo smacked the guard with the nozzle of his gun which was long and
square. He went down with a moan, someone opening a birthday gift in front of
everyone at a party only to discover it is not what they wanted. The woman
behind the counter was emptying the blue velvet trays as fast as she could into
into what looked like one of the hotels stained white pillow cases. When she was
done Ricardo made a "Tch-Tch" noise and the woman's eyes went wide, I was sure
he was going to shoot her. I had been next to him scoping out if there were any
hidden cameras. I kept hitting counter edges due to my bunny heads poor
periphery vision. I squeezed his shoulder the way a father might. He winced but
did not fire. Right before we left though he did take pains to complicate things
by shooting out each of the glass display cases. Back at the garage, a piece of
plywood stretched over an upturned oil barrel, everything is dumped out. All the
guns are put on the table forming a sort of violent border frame to the
sparkling mosaic. Only then does Ricardo punch me in the face. I knew no one
agreed with him on this not even his cousin but I just took it as i was hours
away by my calculation from ceviche and ocean breezes.
"You do not interfere
with how I do a job,,,,,"
"If you had shot somebody you would have forced the
police's hand, no one would get in or out and us killing time waiting eventually
a desk clerk or bartender would be tempted by the reward or to make things
easier for a retaliative already on ice and turn snitch. As it is had you not
shot up the place we could have had a nice head start of a few hours. He went to
punch me again and this one I decided I would not take when his cousin stepped
forward, he looked nervous, he opened and closed his mouth several times without
saying anything, fish out of water taken off hook. Ricardo forgot about further
fighting as he had enough dumb animal instinct to worry about what his cousin
may report back to his father. The stuff was dropped off as agreed upon, two
parties, four witnesses made up of Ricardo and his cousin, Joyce and I so that
no one could abscond later claiming it had all been delivered.
A roll equal
to half the takes value minus various fees was given to us, the rest to come
after the fencing a few weeks from now. I stopped by the hotel to grab my bag,
as a joke or maybe a "fuck you" Ricardo had picked the lock and left the rabbit
head on my bed for anyone to see. I jammed it into my bag.
Back at the
garage we did the split.
I shook hands
with everyone including Ricardo and his people. I was just glad it was over with
no one being shot or pinched even if my nose was throbbing.
I told Joyce not
to take anymore south of the border jobs as all the old timers were dying off or
retiring. In their own ways the jails down here are as bad as those in Russia
minus the chess games in-between the torture.
I hopped on a bus as to avoid calling
attention to myself by renting a car. The bus lurched across the expanse of
highway in surprisingly short amount of time. I think maybe I had been lulled to
sleep by the slow parade of cactus and hypnotic circling of vultures.
In the next town I felt it ok to grab a
coffee and rent a car. I also put out feelers to a few old local contacts to see
if I could get a lead on where she may have landed. I told them I was on the
road and would touch base tomorrow. Giving them that time frame would allow them
to get things done but it also hinted that I was still in California in case
word of the job leaked out. I drove most of the day, singing to myself as the
radio offered up none of its songs.
Everything which took concentration and
nerve over with I slept straight though to the morning, the bunny head having
been pulled out of my bag for me to get my dop kit sat on the bureau next to the
snowy television. a perverse hunting trophy.
The next day I made some calls. They had
found her easily enough. I could tell Pepe wanted to ask what I was going to do
but dare not as it was against his professional code;
"Just to say hello."
"Ok boss, well let me know if there is anything else you need."
"Vio con
huevos" I sad, we both laughed despite how old the joke between us had
become.
The town was a few hours away. It was nice enough to bring in
tourists and some of the boho's who wanted to live on the cheap, bad enough that
she could find some kind of work.
I parked my car and found a clean room
off of the main strip as to be able to sleep without the raucous noise of
tourists excited ot have briefly escaped their everyday lives keeping me up.
She would be at the second best bar as the best would have too much security
and a cut of all money made would always have to go to the boss.
I slid in sideways and took a seat at the
far corner of the bar. I ordered two drinks, one for my thirst one for old
time's sake. Noise coming from a booth, i looked sideways without seeming to do
so. There she was in a booth surrounded by tourists, all male and fresh faced
from the suburbs. She was making her bread by letting whom ever ponied up the
money take photos of her feet which were now intricately tattooed as she
skillfully lifted tiny scorpions out of a brandy snifter. I had seen enough.
I walked some of the back streets hoping to run into Ambrose Bierce . I
had dust from the road on my shoes, i stopped at a shine stand.
I sat on the
cracked green leather chair putting my feet on the dulled pedals.
"A shine
and a wax Senor Bunny?"
FINIS
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