Rumble Tumble

“I don’t know Brett that well. I mean, I like her, but I don’t know her that well. You know this isn’t going to be an easy thing. Just drive up there and knock on the door and help this whore carry her suitcase out to the car.”

“Exactly what I told Brett.”

“You’re going, I go or not, aren’t you?”

“You bet. So’s Brett. She insisted.”

“This Brett, she’s got you by the ying-yang.”

“The ying-yang. The balls. The heart. She’s got me, man. And she’s not asking me to do this. I’m volunteering.”

“Oh, she’s asking all right. I know you, a good-lookin’ woman comes along and plays the right tune, you dance.”

“All right, let’s say she’s asking. I love her. Why shouldn’t she ask? Who else is she going to ask? I’ve done more for people I didn’t care about as much, so why shouldn’t I do it?”

“Because you might get your ass shot off. And considering you got one of them little narrow white asses, you can’t spare much.”

“You got enough for both of us.”

Leonard let that one go by. He pulled a match, lit his pipe and puffed. “I reckon we get this over with, and Brett has time to settle stuff with her daughter, then maybe she’ll take you in.”

“That’s the plan.”

“We get this done, then maybe a short time after, I can get rid of you.”

“That’s possible.”

Leonard nodded. “What we’re going to need first is a few guns. I think for something like this, we’re gonna need a few unmarked guns. I got a shotgun fills that bill, but we could use some other stuff.”

“You’re always with the guns.”

“What do they shoot at us with when we do stuff like this, straws full of spit wads?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“All right, I’ll say it. Guns. Happy?”

“Yep. Now, we’re gonna need guns. Correctomondo?”

“I suppose.”

“I know you don’t like the gun talk, Hap, but you know well as I do, at some point those people up there, they’re who I think they are, they’re gonna point guns at us. And the guns are gonna be loaded, and when they pull the trigger our heads are gonna go away. Unless we shoot first or intimidate their asses into not shooting at all. Maybe that way, we don’t have to shoot. We throw the whore in the car, then drive like bastards.”

“It’s not my plan to go up there with guns blazing. I don’t work like that.”

“I know. I just said as much. We take it easy if the easy way is there. But it isn’t, we got to go the hard way, then we got to be prepared. There’s this guy I know, he can help us.”

I thought awhile. Anytime talk of guns comes up, I get nervous. I don’t like them. I was about the best goddamn shot with a rifle or handgun you ever saw, but I still didn’t like them. I own one, and I still don’t like them. I knew there were times when they were necessary, and it was better to have one and not need it than to not have one and need it, but goddammit, I still don’t like them.

I sighed. “This guy you know. When can we see him?”

“I’ve mentioned him before. Haskel. You don’t call him. You don’t plan. You just go over to his place and be real careful.”

7

This guy Leonard knew sold cold guns was named Haskel Ward. He lived down in the river bottoms about fifty miles from where we lived, not far from the Louisiana border. I had never been to Haskel’s, but I knew where he lived and a little about him from hearing Leonard talk. Not that he had a lot to say about Haskel, but the name had come up, and what little he did say about him was not endearing.

Next morning, on our way to Haskel’s, we drove through town in Leonard’s new Dodge Ram, which was a treat he had given himself when he sold his house. We stopped at a fast-food place and had one of those breakfasts that has so much cholesterol in it the damn thing comes with a vein pump. After breakfast, I found a pay phone and called Brett.

“I’m off work for a couple of weeks, Hap,” she said. “That way, we go get Till, I can have some time with her before I go back to work.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m packing a few things now.”

“That’s good too. Keep it light. But we’re not going today.”

“We’re not?”

“Leonard and I have to pick up a few things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Just be patient. I know you want to go right away, but we go, we got to be prepared.”

“In what way? Packing a lunch?”

“Guns. Cold guns.”

“Cold?”

“They aren’t registered. They can’t be easily traced.”

“Oh. When are we going then?”

“My guess is we get the guns today, take care of some last-minute business the next day, then we go.”

“Then maybe I should work tomorrow.”

“If you can, you should. Don’t plan on leaving until day after tomorrow. It’s best when you do something like this you don’t run off with your fly down and your dick hanging out. Or in your case, a tit.”

“Not out of my fly though. I’m not that droopy yet.”

“Darling, you aren’t droopy at all.”

“And most of the time you aren’t either.”

“I’ll call you tonight.”