by Jay Mackey
CJ sensed they might be a little unsure of him, natural since they’d really only met him the one time since he’d been a child, so he made sure he shook both their hands, thanked them for allowing Oval and him to stay with them, and praised Penny for giving him the grand tour of the Strip.
Oval was also gracious, and, for him, pretty quiet. Maybe he really was tired.
Mr. Hancock asked about the project CJ was working on. “I understand you’d like to learn a little about Penny’s Grandfather Matzelini,” he said, shuffling his feet and frowning. “What exactly do you want to know?”
CJ sensed the tension behind the question, so he said, “Well, I’m doing a project for school about family origins. And Noga—my grandfather Gus, that’s what I call him—he’s always talked about how great his brother Marcio was. I’ve already tracked the Matzelini family roots back to Italy in the early 1800s. I want to be able to learn a little about how the family’s heritage had an effect on Penny’s grandfather.” CJ could tell he wasn’t getting the reaction he’d hoped for, so he added, “You know, like the language, the traditions, how they dressed, the food the family ate, stuff like that.” He hoped he wouldn’t have to use any of those things, but the mention of them seemed to relax the Hancocks.
“Great,” said Penny. “Mom still uses some of the old Matzelini recipes, like for lasagna. Huh, Mom.”
“Well, that’s true,” said Mrs. Hancock. “The red sauce, anyway.”
“Cool,” said CJ. “Hey, maybe I could even include the recipe in my report. That would be awesome.”
Mr. Hancock, though, still looked a little concerned. “Just be careful,” he said, looking straight at CJ with a look that clearly meant he was being serious. “Do not talk about any of the trouble he got into, or what the newspapers said about him. Just keep it to the family stuff.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “This is all about family.”
Everyone loosened up after that, and things went more smoothly. Mrs. Hancock tried to get the boys to eat something, and even after they declined, she served ice cream and cookies anyway, which Oval devoured and CJ nibbled at.
Eventually, CJ excused Oval and himself, blaming their fading energy on jet lag. Penny’s older brother was away at college somewhere in California, so CJ was given his bedroom on the second floor. Oval got the guest room down the hall.
The last thing CJ did before going to bed was to text Nini that he’d arrived safely. It was after two in the morning back home, but he knew on a Friday night, Nini would still be at York Street. He didn’t expect her to text him back right away, but she did.
“A man was looking for you. Are you in trouble?” the text said.
11
Near Las Vegas, July 1964
Gus reacted, not thinking, just doing. He tried to drive Little Bull’s car off the road, out of the way of the truck bearing down on him, but he hit a scrub bush. He stomped on the accelerator, trying to drive over the bush, but the engine whined and his rear wheels spun, so he had to back up and go around. Before he could get completely clear, the truck was on top of him.
It swerved to miss him and fishtailed, back and forth, before tipping and sliding on its side, coming to a grinding stop off the road fifty yards down.
Gus stopped once he was completely off the road and looked back. The truck looked like it might be military, with a canvas covering over the back. The door opened on what was now the topside, and a man climbed out. Several more people scrambled out of the back. He hoped no one had been hurt too bad in the crash. They’d blame him, for sure, for blocking the road.
He pulled farther off the road, maneuvering around some big rocks, stopping near the base of a sharp rise. He debated whether he should go back and see if anyone had been hurt just as the second vehicle, smaller, a Jeep maybe, came sliding to a stop just up the road from where his car had been. He saw two men get out of the Jeep and run toward the truck, only to retreat quickly when someone near the truck shot at them.
A fierce gun battle broke out—Gus could see the muzzle flashes as well as hear the shots—with a steady stream of gunshots from the Jeep, and a few return shots from the truck. Those gunshots scared him—he was almost in the line of fire from the truck, and a stray shot could easily hit him. Or a ricochet off one of the rocks that were all around might come his way.
Gus jumped out of the car and scrambled back toward where he’d left Little Bull and the others. In the dark and the confusion, trying to keep his head down, he couldn’t find them. They were hiding, no doubt, staying out of the way of the gunfire.
Up the road, another larger vehicle crested the hill and stopped. It was followed by a fourth vehicle, and soon he could see muzzle flashes from up there, too. Both left their headlights on, pointed generally down toward the action below. It wasn’t enough light to see clearly, but it created shadows, so it was a little easier to make out what was going on. He was afraid it might also make it easier to spot his car.
He figured he was totally fucked. Who would have thought they’d see anybody out in the dark of the desert? But here he was, in the middle of some battle. Crouching to make himself as small a target as possible, he went back to the car and kneeled behind it, using it for cover. He hoped Little Bull would come to him. So far, whoever was doing the shooting hadn’t seemed to notice him, but he figured someone would eventually spot the car.
He could vaguely hear the parties yelling to each other occasionally, but he couldn’t pick up what was being said.
Quickly, the situation got even more complicated. Something— a helicopter, he thought—making a strange noise, a high-pitched whining noise, appeared over the hill. It was soon overhead, with a blinding light shining down onto the desert. It hovered near the overturned truck, on the other side of the road, and then slowly came down, landing a few dozen yards from the overturned truck. As it landed, the downward directed light went out, leaving everything in darkness and shadows again.
The noise from the helicopter continued even after it had landed, blocking most of the sounds of the gunshots.
In the shadows, he saw a figure running away from the shooting, away from the overturned truck. He knew instinctively that it was a girl. She ran bent over, trying to avoid the gunfire.
Unfortunately, the guys near the Jeep saw her too. One of them turned and chased. Her path was taking her roughly toward Gus. The guy had an angle on her, but the girl was fast.
Gus had not intended to take sides in this battle. Indeed, he didn’t know what the sides were. But when he saw the man stop and hold his gun out, clearly intending to shoot the girl, he reacted. Pulling his gun from his back waistband, and leaning over the car, he aimed for the man.
Too far for this little pistol.
Muzzle flash! The guy took a shot, but missed. The girl, sensing the danger, changed course. Now she was coming directly at Gus. She saw something—Gus assumed it was the car—and yelled, but Gus couldn’t hear her over the sound of the helicopter.
The man started running again, and he, too, seemed to see the car. He fired a second shot wildly while running.
Gus aimed carefully, waiting until the man got closer. When the man slowed to take another shot, Gus pulled the trigger.
Bam!
The man was down.
So I’m getting my first, after all, and it isn’t Faccio.
Gus looked up toward the Jeep. The other man up there was standing, facing toward Gus. He’d seen, or heard, Gus’s shot.
Fuck. Here we go.
Out of his peripheral vision Gus saw something else moving off to his left. Two men, one chasing the other, were running toward the battle. Their path was farther down the hill from where the girl came from, but was angling up toward the overturned truck. The man near the Jeep apparently saw them too, and turned away from Gus and fired at the running men. One of them, the one who’d been giving chase, went down. In the dark, he couldn’t be certain, but that sure looked like Oaf.
Damn, Oaf. What are you doin
g?
The other man—who had to be Faccio—stopped and went back, leaned over Oaf, and then stood and fired back at the Jeep man. Based on the muzzle flash, Gus figured it was Oaf’s shotgun. They exchanged a couple of shots, and Jeep man lost. Then the running man, Faccio, got up and continued toward the truck.
At least he took out the guy who’d seen me. But damn, what a fuckup.
Gus looked around to see if anyone else was coming his way. He couldn’t see anything from up on the hill. Only the girl, who continued to run, coming at him, finally colliding with him, eyes flashing.
“Help me, help me, help me!” she cried, grasping at him.
12
Las Vegas, April 2018
CJ knew Nini was probably busy, near closing hour on a Friday night. But there was no way he could go to bed with that message hanging out there. So he called her. She answered on the second ring, and started with the questions.
Yes, he’d arrived safely. No problems. The Hancocks were nice. Penny was very nice. Weather was good. Oval was good. Everything was good.
“But what’s this about someone looking for me?” CJ finally got in. “Who?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” she said. She hadn’t talked to the man. Yolanda, a hostess who’d been with them at York Street forever, had been at the front when he’d come in around six that night.
“Yolanda figured he was either a banker or a cop, since nobody else she knows wears a suit. So assuming you’re not in the process of taking out a loan, I have to ask: Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Me? Trouble? No way.” His mind raced. Was there any way he could be in trouble?
“Then why is some cop looking for you?”
“There is no way some cop is looking for me. That’s just bogus.”
“You know I can tell when you’re lying to me.”
“Then you know I’m not lying, Nini. I swear.”
“Okay, but this is strange. Oh, and one more thing,” she added. “Yolanda told him you were visiting relatives in Las Vegas.”
“Really?” He didn’t know why that mattered.
“And she said he seemed very happy about that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s some creep. But if he shows up down there, you let me know.”
Yeah, right. Like a cop from Newport is going to show up on Penny’s doorstep.
“Love you, Nini,” he said as he closed out the call.
“Love you always,” she responded.
The only guy in a suit that he could think of was that guy he’d seen at the school, the one from FamilyHeritage. But he already had the revised DNA results. And they were supposed to be anonymous, weren’t they? How would the guy even know the results were CJ’s?
No, it had to be something, someone else. A mistake of some kind.
Saturday, the Hancocks had a plan. It wasn’t what CJ had in mind, but he could tell they were still a little unsure about him—what was this boy doing, coming to their home and paying attention to their daughter? What were his intentions, to use the old saying? He couldn’t very well tell them that it was the daughter who’d been stalking him, not the other way around. What were her intentions?
And what about Oval? They didn’t know what to make of the funny kid with the goofy grin.
CJ quickly made the decision to go along with whatever the Hancocks had planned, and Oval readily agreed. It turned out fine; the plan involved an outing to Hoover Dam and Lake Mead, including a tour of the dam and a picnic on the lake. CJ tried to be the perfect guest, paying attention to his adult hosts while fending off the attentions of Penny, who seemed to want to tease him constantly. Like, she’d “accidentally” let her hand touch his on the back seat during the drive out to the dam. Then she’d give him a little sideways look, like they were getting away with something. And she’d casually reach over to hold his hand when they were walking behind her parents. He was usually pretty good at reading what was going on with people, but he wasn’t sure if she was playing or testing him. He tried to be nonchalant about it, treating it like a little game.
Fortunately, Oval kept the Hancocks occupied with a steady stream of questions; e.g., how often did they go to the casinos (never), what shows did they go to (whatever shows someone was willing to give them tickets to), what was the desert like in the winter (beautiful), did they ever almost die from the heat in the summer (it was a dry heat).
Oval noticed the little games that Penny was playing with CJ and raised his eyebrows a few times but kept his mouth shut about it.
CJ tried to get Penny off him by querying her parents about Uncle Marcio from time to time. He recorded their responses in a notebook he’d brought along for just this purpose. By the end of the day, which seemed extraordinarily long to him, he felt that all the Hancocks, including Penny, were comfortable that he really was working on a project about Marcio, and that’s what brought him to Las Vegas. He was just a bit worried that he’d have a hard time doing his research on Nini.
His concern was not alleviated the next day, when Penny made it clear that she had ideas for how they’d spend their time. She had the day planned, and she insisted that she give the boys a big tour of Vegas. More than insisted, she nearly threw a fit when her mother suggested that maybe CJ had his own ideas about what to do, which he did, but he held his tongue when he saw how important this was to Penny. And Oval was up for anything, especially if Penny was going to be there.
Before they left, Mrs. Hancock made Penny promise to be home in time to go and have dinner with her grandmother.
Penny’s grandmother, Aunt Donna to CJ, was important in CJ’s plan. He knew she’d known Nini before she’d married Noga, so he was hopeful she’d be able to give him some information that would help him find out who Nini’s parents had been.
But first they had Penny’s tour, so they left, CJ driving again, back to the Strip. They had brunch at an outdoor café near Caesars Palace. They ate eggs and pastries and talked. Well, mostly, Penny and Oval talked. She rattled on about how great everything was, her school, her friends, Las Vegas, the weather. Oval agreed with everything she had to say.
CJ decided that Penny was more cute than what he’d call beautiful, with small, fine features, expressive eyes. She had a narrow nose, not the Matzelini hook nose that Nini called “Roman.” Her dark hair was short in back, parted on the side, kind of swept back, and the hair in front tended to fall into her eyes. She’d absentmindedly tuck it behind her ear frequently while she talked. He liked that for some reason.
The more she talked, the more relaxed she became. There was less of the physical teasing that she’d been doing the day before, although she frequently touched him—a little grab of his arm as she leaned in to say something, or a playful jab when she laughed at something he said.
She didn’t act the same way with Oval. She’d laugh at him and with him, and clearly enjoyed him, but didn’t engage him physically.
After they split the bill for brunch they strolled along the Strip, taking in the sights and dodging the crowds of tourists. They sat on a bench near the fountains at the Bellagio and people-watched. CJ started making up stories for some of the more interesting or unusual people they saw walk by. “Look at those two,” he said, pointing out a young couple holding hands. “He just got a job as a mechanic at a local garage, and she’s planning to be a dancer in the show at MGM Grand.” He grinned at Penny, who was shaking her head.
Oval picked up on the game immediately. “Look over there.” He pointed to an elderly couple. The man, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts that came almost to his ankles, bent over using a walker to help him as he shuffled across the busy street. His white-haired wife tried to hurry him along before the light changed. “Flash forward fifty years, and there’s the same couple, still together.”
Now Penny laughed. “But what about them?” she said, pointing to a family with both husband and wife pushing strollers and three other toddlers in tow, looking like al
l of them were about to collapse in exhaustion. “I’ll bet they’re tourists from Utah, and they’re heading back to their room at Circus Circus after a full breakfast at the Cheesecake Factory.” She looked at CJ expectantly, pushing the strand of hair behind her ear.
CJ laughed, and said, “Pretty good, but too close to what’s probably real.”
“Like what?”
“Try this. See, those aren’t really kids. They’re little people who perform in one of the Cirque de Soleil shows. And those two adults aren’t the parents. They’re kidnapping them for their own show, Cirque de Okay.”
Penny thought that was hilarious and added her own thoughts in between giggles. “Oh, yeah. Cirque de Okay, the one that has shows out at the Holiday Inn by the airport.”
Oval chimed in. “Right. But it’s not the Holiday Inn, it’s the Motel 6.”
They all laughed, and riffed on more of the people walking by until one of their targets gave them a dirty look. Then they walked the Strip, occasionally whispering to each other something like, “Look, that girl over there is actually Miley Cyrus in disguise,” or “That dude just robbed a casino.”
They went into the big M&M’s store, where the whole store sold only stuff with an M&M’s theme, but most of it wasn’t candy. They finally found the chocolate in a showroom on the top floor, with more flavors and colors than they could count, and left with a bag of chocolates each.
By the time they’d finished their tour of the Strip, including a peek inside at several of the big hotels and casinos, it was afternoon, but Penny’s day wasn’t complete. They got back in the car and drove downtown, where Penny said the whole Las Vegas thing really started.
Much of the downtown area was a covered mall now, with casinos and tourist shops lining the streets. It seemed a little seedy to CJ, especially after seeing the Strip.