Simon Says

by William Poe

  As soon Dean and Cicero went outside, I scurried to the bathroom, took a cold shower, and then worked as many tangles out of my hair as I could.

  “You’re damn lucky you didn’t get yourself killed,” Dean said as I joined him at my car.

  He had discovered a couple of holes in the front windshield. Two bullets had whizzed right past my head.

  “Where were you?” Dean’s voice was a blend of concern and consternation.

  “At a drive-through bank.”

  “People have been robbed at drive-through banks all over town. It’s been in the news. How did they get you?”

  “A gang of hoodlums surrounded the car as soon I reached for the cash. I had just pulled off the freeway, somewhere around Sixth Street.”

  “Sixth Street, huh? So, you were near the East End. That’s a dangerous area even during the day. Sean’s okay, I suppose?”

  “He’s shaken up.”

  “You need to call the insurance company,” Dean said.

  “I’ll call today.”

  Dean fought to hold back his questions. He knew I wasn’t telling him the whole story.

  We spent the next hour sweeping broken glass from the seat and floorboards. We plugged the rear window with cardboard, securing it with duct tape.

  “This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dean said, stepping back to examine our repairs.

  “Maybe I can tell people it’s the car that Bonnie and Clyde were driving.”

  We both laughed.

  “What are you going to do?” Dean asked when we were back inside the house.

  “I’m thinking I might spend some time at Vivian’s. No one’s upstairs anymore since she set up her bedroom on the first floor.”

  Dean grasped my hand as I reached for my coffee cup. “If you need to talk, you can call me any time, day or night. All right?”

  I gave Dean a look as though I didn’t know what he meant. “Of course,” I said. “I know that.”

  The insurance company had a million questions. In the end, they demanded that I file a police report. Fortunately, that didn’t require a trip to the station. An officer took my report over the phone. He was polite enough. When I mentioned where the incident took place, I was afraid there might have been reports about the car that I’d have to explain. But nothing was said.

  Later, Sean and I drove to the Mercury dealer where Lenny and I got the car. They took possession of the badly damaged vehicle and gave me a loaner. Until I settled the insurance claim, I couldn’t get a replacement. We drove off the lot in a bright red Cougar. Sean thought it much jazzier than the gray Topaz, but I missed the old jewel. We’d been through a lot together.

  Before heading off toward Sibley, I telephoned. Connie was there.

  “Vivian’s gotten used to her privacy since Lenny died,” Connie said. “It’s going to be an adjustment if you stay here. And that boy.”

  “Sean’s not a boy, Connie.”

  “I just don’t want you to put stress on Vivian.”

  “I’m not trying to cause trouble,” I said. “I need to recharge for a while, that’s all.”

  Connie choked back her comments.

  I was dismayed to find Vivian sweeping the upstairs hallway. Connie was nowhere to be found. She worked the broom with one arm as she steadied herself with her cane in the other hand. I couldn’t imagine how she had managed to climb the stairs.

  “You don’t need to worry about cleaning,” I said, wrapping Vivian’s arm in mine.

  “But it’s so musty up here,” Vivian said. “I didn’t want you to come home to this.”

  “Sean and I will take care of it. Let me get you downstairs.” Vivian had not even acknowledged that Sean was standing behind me.

  “I can manage,” Vivian said resolutely. She shuffled down the hallway to the landing. On reaching the stairs, she looked back sheepishly. I was right behind her. We took the steps one at a time. I got her positioned into her favorite chair, the old Lay-Z-Boy that had been Lenny’s. Then I went back upstairs.

  “Is this where we’re going to stay?” Sean said, examining my old bedroom.

  “Beats the cab of an eighteen wheeler, doesn’t it?”

  Sean shot me a wicked glance. “At least I’d have drugs in an eighteen wheeler.”

  “You’ve got a point. Let’s go back to the East End. BT might be home by now. At least we’ll be in a car that Snake won’t recognize.”

  “Yeah? And then what, smoke here at your mother’s house?”

  “We’ll hear her on the stairs if she tries to come up. I know every creak those stairs make.”

  “What about your sister and that Derek guy?”

  “That’s her husband, silly. Look, unless she gets wind of trouble, Connie will appreciate getting a break from tending to Vivian.”

  “Whatever. Let’s go.”

  “Do you mind walking Cicero while I make a phone call?” We had left him in the Cougar.

  “Okay, but hurry up.”

  Vivian managed to get up from the chair and make it into the kitchen, where she was drinking a glass of milk.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked, noting a look of melancholy.

  “I haven’t been upstairs in a while. It brought back memories. Having you here makes me think about Lenny.”

  Lenny’s ghost tapped me on the shoulder.

  “I’m going to have my stuff brought from Los Angeles,” I said.

  “Then, you’re really leaving that place?”

  I laughed, “‘That place’ is a pretty good description of Hollywood.”

  “Sibley will always be your home,” Vivian said.

  I hugged her, but in my shredded emotional state, it was a hollow gesture.

  Vivian steadied herself on her cane and shuffled toward her room. “Come and go as you please, Bubby,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve come home.”

  I needed to get someone to me help me settle my affairs in California. All of my belongings would have to be put in storage or possibly trucked to Arkansas. I hoped I could arrange it before my credit cards dried up.

  Though I had lived in Los Angeles for eight years, I had few people I could truly count on. Scott and Sandra were the only ones who’d been there since the start. They knew my sins and loved me anyway.

  I held the receiver for several minutes before dialing Scott. I knew he’d help me. A slurred voice answered.

  “Scott? Is that you?”

  “Simon?” Scott’s voice became instantly coherent. “Where in the hell are you?”

  “I’m in Little Rock.”

  Then I heard a familiar voice in the background say, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Simon,” Scott responded to the person.

  There was shuffling against the receiver as Scott handed off the phone.

  “Is that really you?” a voice asked.

  I wanted desperately to hang up, but I couldn’t make myself do it. In a barely audible voice, I responded, “Hello, Thad.”

  “It is you!” Thad exclaimed.

  The sound of Thad’s voice struck a deep sense of longing in my heart.

  “I’ve been trying to find you,” Thad said. “I heard about what happened.”

  “What do you mean? What did you hear?”

  “Charlotte took all your money, right?”

  “Who told you that?” I asked.

  “I heard it from Patricia. When you left the message on her machine that you were leaving, she called your house and spoke to Charlotte. Charlotte was so rude that Patricia became suspicious. She went to the Spotlight and warmed up to Rudy.”

  “So Patricia’s part of it, too?”

  “Calm down and listen,” Thad insisted. “Patricia wanted to find out what was going on. Rudy asked about any places in the Silverlake house where you might have hidden cash. Patricia and Rudy went there. She was surprised that Rudy had a key. Charlotte wasn’t there. Patricia pretended to know where you hid things, but of course there wasn’t any cash in the places she sh
owed Rudy.”

  “She didn’t know my hiding places.”

  “It was just an excuse to win Rudy’s confidence,” Thad said. “Patricia found some of the faxes from Spain and saw those big numbers. You must have done a hell of a deal.”

  “A lot of good it did me.”

  “Patricia called me later that night. She thought Rudy and Charlotte might be planning to rip you off. By the time I got to Hollywood, and we went to Silverlake, Rudy and Charlotte were gone.”

  “Is the house okay? Did they take my things?”

  “Everything’s there. I called the bank and pretended to be you. I gave them your mother’s maiden name for identification. Don’t be angry with me. I just wanted to know. I looked through the phone bills for numbers where Charlotte called you, but I couldn’t find you. Did your mother tell you I called, or your sister?”

  “Neither one.”

  “I left messages with both of them. They were supposed to tell you to call Scott.”

  “You mean, Scott knows all this?”

  “Scott and Sandra both.”

  “You had no right to tell them, Thad.”

  “Scott may be fucked up, Simon, but he’s your friend. So is Sandra. Patricia’s forgiven me for leaving you alone when you were sick. We’re friends now,” he assured me.

  “Some group of friends,” I said sarcastically.

  “I was an asshole,” Thad said. “I admit it.”

  My mind reeled at the idea he would admit to any of his faults. “What do you want, Thad? I’m penniless.”

  “That’s the drugs talking,” Thad said.

  “No dear, that’s me—speaking from experience.”

  “Drugs screwed me up, too, Simon. I even tried to kill myself.”

  “I’ve seen how you try to kill yourself. Then you show up the next day with a smug grin.”

  “That was the drugs, Simon. Not me.”

  “Don’t hand me a load of crap!” I shot back.

  “I stopped using,” Thad confessed. “I got help.”

  “I feel sorry for you. I truly do.”

  “Listen to me,” Thad said sternly. “I came here to see if Scott knew where I could find you. And then you called. That means something.”

  “It means you don’t know how to mind your own business.”

  As we spoke, I thought perhaps I could turn the nonsense to my advantage. “Look,” I said, “I need someone to get my things out of Silverlake. I can’t afford the rent, and I don’t want to go back to Los Angeles.”

  “I’ll bring everything to you,” Thad offered. “I owe you that much.”

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  “Do you realize how much furniture I have?”

  “I helped you pick out most of it. It’ll fit into a rental truck. Could you pay for a truck at your end? Then I could drive it there.”

  “You’d do that?” I said, trying to sound as appreciative as possible.

  “I need to make amends.”

  The word amends clued me in. He’d become a 12-stepper. I’d heard enough of that babble from Axl to recognize the lingo. The only thing that would get Axl to stop talking that way was to put a pipe in his hand.

  “I’ll go by a rental place tomorrow.”

  “Do it tonight, Simon. It’s a long time until tomorrow.”

  I knew what he was thinking—that I’d get high and forget we’d ever spoken.

  “Here’s a thought, Simon. What if I wait for your call at the Silverlake house? I already took the spare key from the hiding place in the century plant frond.”

  “All right. See if there are any faxes, and check my telexes. Maybe some other deals have come through.”

  I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to trust Thad, but what choice did I have?

  “If there’s anything urgent,” Thad said, “I’ll let you know. I promise.”

  After we hung up, I leafed through the phone book and made calls until I found a company with a truck available in Los Angeles. I’d have to go to the local office at a truck stop near the East End to pay. Cicero was getting agitated. I thought about leaving him at Vivian’s but decided against it, picking him up and heading outside.

  “What the shit took you so long?” Sean demanded when I got into the car after completing the rental company’s paperwork. Fortunately, my credit card had gone through.

  “Things take time,” I said. “What do you want?”

  “Drugs. That guy over there’s been eyeballing me ever since you went inside. He looks like he’s on speed. Shit, dude, I could’ve turned a trick in the time you were in there.”

  A skinny guy in a Peterbilt hat and shaggy beard sat in the cab of the largest truck on the lot. He seemed to be working on his own paperwork under the cab light. From time to time, he revved his engine, a mating call to Sean’s ears.

  I threw the car in gear and raced deeper into the East End. Mercury vapor lamps flickered with the approach of evening. Whatever had caused the earlier blackout must have been fixed. The area took on an eerie yellowish glow against the russet sky in the west.

  BT’s wife, Violet, peeked out of the window before letting me in when I knocked. The only light in the room came from the glow of her old black-and-white television set. “BT ain’t here,” she said, speaking softly. The children were leaning against each other, asleep on the tattered couch. A nest of blankets marked Violet’s spot beside them. Canned foods, each with a Christmas ribbon tied around it, covered the dining room table. “Don’t know when BT will be back,” Violet said, picking up a can of peaches and turning the handle of a hand opener.

  I thought about roaming the projects or chancing a run by Dante’s Club, but the idea sent a shudder up my spine.

  Violet pulled her terrycloth robe close around her neck. “What if I tell you where to find BT? You do something for me?”

  “Anything,” I said.

  “BT don’t like me smoking none of that crack, but I been wanting some. What if, when you get yours, you put a little piece for me right here behind this lamp? Would you do that for Violet?”

  “Of course.”

  “BT will bring you back here. He’s out hustling a deal, but no one’s got money after Christmas.”

  Violet slipped into a pair of well-worn slippers and walked me to the car. Cicero jumped to the window when he saw us. Violet shrieked.

  “He won’t hurt you,” I said.

  “I don’t like them white dogs.”

  Cicero tried to nose his way through the partially opened window, always anxious to meet a new person.

  “See? He’s trying to get at me,” Violet said.

  I let Cicero lick my hand. “He won’t hurt you, Violet.”

  “Keep it away from me anyways.”

  Violet pointed down the street. “You see that row of apartments there? My brother lives in the one on the end. BT should be there.”

  Violet hurried inside as I told Sean I’d be right back. I walked the short distance, guided by the incandescent light over the brother’s door.

  I could hear BT’s voice as I got near.

  “BT?” I called out, knocking gently.

  BT greeted me with an enthusiastic “Homeboy!” and let me in.

  The layout of the apartment was identical to BT and Violet’s. Some folding chairs, with flattened pillows for cushions, and a flimsy card table sufficed as the only furniture. Someone with a flair for design had nailed crushed Budweiser cans into an arrangement on the wall.

  “I was just saying how I wished someone would show up wanting something, and here you come.” BT placed his hand on my shoulder and introduced me to Violet’s brother, a chubby man missing his bottom front teeth. His matted hair was speckled with bits of dead leaves as if he had been sleeping outside. BT didn’t introduce the two women and two men also in the room, simply waving his hand in their direction and saying they were folks from Memphis.

  One of the men appeared to be gripping a revolver under the heavy coat draped across his lap.
The whole crew dressed fashionably. The women had on short dresses that emphasized the sexiness of their fishnet stockings. Their sleek shoes had high pointed heels. The material of the men’s suits glistened in the light.

  BT took me into a back room. His voice betrayed a certain urgency as he said, “Holmes, this is your chance to score big. I was just trying to tell these folks about my connections in these parts. If you can do big business right now, we gonna have a supply for the next year. I’m tellin’ ya.”

  My heart beat faster as I anticipated having that much again.

  “Damn, BT. I’ve only got a couple hundred bucks on me, and for a while it’s going to be tough getting cash.”

  BT’s expression sank. “Just a couple hundred, huh?” Then he broke into a smile. “What ’bout the credit cards? You got credit cards, right? American Express?”

  “Yeah.”

  BT shared his idea. “They want to rent a van for a couple of days. Says they got some things to move to Little Rock. I reckon you could rent them a van, and they’d give us a good stash.”

  I agreed to try. BT went into the front to work out a deal, leaving me alone. With him gone, I noticed the rank odor of dirty laundry choking the windowless space. I thought I heard something in the corner under a pile of trash. I was ready to run if I saw a rat, but just then BT returned.

  “These folks is pretty nervous,” he said. “But they say if you rent a van, they’ll give us a half ounce right now.”

  “How do we make it work?”

  “You go and pay for a van. Put down this name as the person who’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

  BT gave me a piece of paper with the name Joyce Briggs written on it. He told me to make sure the rental company asked for extended approval on the card, in case the move took more than a couple of days.

  “We get the drugs now?” I asked.

  “Soon as you return,” BT said.

  Sean was suspicious, but the prospect of getting drugs, no matter what the risk, kept him from voicing more than a general warning. I parked and told Sean to sit tight as I went into the airport to make arrangements. The rental companies were flush with vehicles. The clerk quickly did the paperwork and got the approval from my bank.