by Andy Rausch
“We're gonna get supper,” said Lefty. “You want some chicken?”
“I thought we were gonna go to Casa Bonita.”
“We just got here, and it's getting late. Why don't we save that for tomorrow? That'll give us something to look forward to.”
Layla looked up at him. “I thought you were gonna meet that man tomorrow.”
“I am,” Lefty said. “But you and I are gonna have fun first.”
“A daddy and daughter day?”
“You bet your butt.”
This made Layla laugh. She was still at an age where she could be made to laugh by the mere mention of things like butts and farts. Lefty had always joked about wanting a job as a comedian for small children. “That shit would be the easiest job ever,” he had said. After all, all the comedian would need to do was mention poop a few times, and the kids would laugh their asses off.
Lefty climbed out of the Caddy and opened Layla's door, letting her out. “Can I take my tablet inside?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because we're having dinner together,” said Lefty. “You and I are gonna have a conversation, like civilized people do.”
Layla tried to argue. “I can still talk while I play my game.”
“Leave it in the car,” he said firmly. She didn't want to do it, but she did. She closed the door and they walked inside the restaurant. Lefty was standing in line, eyeing the menu overhead.
“Can I have a kid's meal?” asked Layla.
“Not today, Tator Tot.”
“Why?”
“It costs too much. We don't need to spend all our money.”
“Can't you go to the bank and use your card to get some more money?”
“I could, but I'm not going to. Now look at the menu and figure out what you want to eat.”
Layla stood there, biting her bottom lip and staring at the menu. “I want the fish and popcorn shrimp,” she said. She considered this for a moment and asked, “What's popcorn shrimp, Daddy?”
“It's a kind of shrimp where you can eat the whole thing.”
“Even the tails?”
Lefty nodded. “Even the tails.”
“But it has popcorn in it?”
“No, Tator Tot. That's just what it's called, popcorn shrimp. It doesn't really have popcorn in it.”
Layla frowned. “They shouldn't call it that then.”
“Why don't you get some chicken? This is a chicken place after all.”
“Then why do they sell fish?”
She had him there.
“Why don't you just go get us a table?” he asked.
“You'll get my food?”
“I'll get you chicken,” he said. Layla frowned, but said nothing, walking into the dining area to secure a table. Lefty waited his turn. When he finally reached the front counter, he ordered spicy chicken tenders and a large order of beans and rice for himself. He thought about getting chicken for the girl, but relented and ordered the fish and popcorn shrimp. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Layla had him wrapped around her finger.
While he waited on the food to be prepared, Lefty filled their cups with water and carried them to the table. He then went back and retrieved the tray of food. Once they were both sitting at the table, looking at their food, he said, “I got you the fish and shrimp like you wanted. Is there anything you'd like to say?”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
She took a drink, then held the cup up and stared at it. “My Sprite tastes funny.”
Lefty chuckled. “That's because it's water.”
She stared at it for another moment before shrugging and taking another drink.
“What are we gonna do after this?” she asked.
“We can either go and get a motel room, or we can go to a movie first.”
“I like motels.”
“Is that what you wanna do? You wanna get a motel?”
“Not yet. I wanna go to a movie. What movies are there?”
“I don't know,” said Lefty. “I haven't looked. I figure we'll just go there and see what's coming on. Then we'll just go see whatever they got.”
They finished their meal. On the way out Lefty asked a random customer if he knew how to get to a movie theater. The man gave him directions, Lefty thanked him, and they were on their way.
Lefty found the theater easily. When they went inside, he scanned the options. It was a second-run theater. Lefty and Layla went to the movies at least once a week, so they had already seen most of them. One of the movies was a re-release of an old John Wayne movie called The Searchers. Lefty had seen it a few times, but Layla had not. He wasn't entirely sure she would like it, as she was still at an age where such things couldn't be easily predicted. It really could go either way.
Lefty approached the cashier. “One adult and one child for The Searchers.” He paid for the tickets, got his change, and they went to the snack bar for refreshments. Layla asked, “What is this movie, Daddy?” He explained to her that it was a cowboy movie. She had only seen a handful of westerns, but she knew what they were. “Is it like Unforgiven?” To this he replied, “Yeah, kind of.” He bought a box of Milk Duds for himself and some Mike and Ikes for Layla, with a couple of Sprites to wash it all down.
When they entered the theater, the movie was already playing. Layla wanted to talk, but Lefty quieted her down. The theater was nearly empty. They sat in the rear, right in the middle. Layla occasionally asked questions regarding the events taking place on screen, but she was well-behaved. She fidgeted a little, which was to be expected for a child her age, and she lay her head on his shoulder about two-thirds of the way through. But she stayed awake and watched the movie in its entirety.
As they were walking out of the theater, Layla asked, “Debbie was a kid when she got kidnapped by those Indians, wasn't she?”
“She was,” he agreed. “She was eight.”
“And I'm seven,” she said proudly.
“She was a year older than you.”
She contemplated this. “Ethan looked for Debbie for a really long time,” she said. “How long do you think he looked?”
“Several years.”
“Years?” Layla bit her lip. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Tator Tot?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Ask me anything.”
“If Indians kidnapped me, would you look for me for years?”
“No.”
She stopped and stared at him in disbelief, visibly upset. “You wouldn't?”
“I wouldn't need to,” he said. “I'd find you right away and bring you back home. You wouldn't have to wait that long.”
Layla brightened. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Tator Tot?”
“If someone kidnapped me, would you kill them like he did to that Indian?”
Lefty looked at her, serious now. “Of course I'd kill them, dead as disco.”
Layla smiled. “I know you would.” A moment later she said, “Daddy?”
“Yes, Layla?”
“What's disco?”
Once they were back in the Caddy, Lefty drove around for a few minutes searching for a place to stay. “What's the name of the motel we're gonna stay at?” asked Layla. Lefty told her he didn't know yet. Finally Lefty spotted a Motel Six. They pulled into the parking lot, got out, and checked in. As they carried their bags up to their second-floor room, Layla asked, “Can we go swimming, Daddy?”
“Not tonight,” said Lefty. “It's too late.”
“Are you sure?”
“They close the pool at night.”
“But I wanna go.”
Lefty considered this. He knew he was a pushover and was well aware that he should say no more frequently, but he relented. “When we get inside, you go in the bathroom and put on your swim suit.”
Ten minutes later they were both wearing swim suits and standing at the front desk. “The little girl wants to go swimming,” said Lefty. “Is there
anything we can do about that?”
The Pakistani clerk smiled. “No problem. Go on in and swim. It's fine.”
Lefty thanked him. The poor bastard had no idea he'd just missed out on a payoff. Lefty had been prepared to offer him as much as fifty bucks to let them swim. They ended up swimming for a half an hour before returning to their room, where Lefty watched Taxi Driver and Layla fell asleep.
The next morning they dined on complimentary breakfast consisting of cereal and rock-hard bagels before checking out at eleven. They both climbed into the Caddy, strapping on their seatbelts.
“What now, Daddy?”
“We're gonna go to Casa Bonita.”
“Yay!” said Layla happily.
Lefty saw that the gas was low, beneath the quarter mark, so he turned the car into a QuikTrip on Mingo. He pulled up next to the pump and stopped. He looked back at Layla, staring down at a zombie game on her tablet, a zombie herself. “I'll be right back,” he said. Layla continued staring at the game, unmoved. “Layla!” he snapped. She looked up, a little bit dazed and slightly irritated. “What, Daddy?”
“I'll be right back,” said Lefty. “I'm gonna get gas.”
“Okay,” she said, her eyes back on the game.
Lefty shook his head as he climbed out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it and removing a credit card. He turned to the car and opened the fuel door. He turned back and swiped his card at the pump. He waited a moment and the screen inquired if he wanted a receipt. He pressed the button that said “no.” It didn't register the first time, so he pressed it harder. This time it took. Lefty grabbed the handle of the nozzle and inserted the thing into the tank, pumping the gas.
As he stood there waiting for the tank to fill, he looked over at a hot little blonde chick, maybe 20, 22, getting gas at the next pump. She was bent over a bit, the cheeks of her shapely bottom bursting out from her tiny shorts. Lefty had an impure thought or two about both the girl and her bottom. He watched as she finished pumping her gas and then climbed back into her little red Suburu. Finally the lock on Lefty's nozzle clicked off, signifying that the tank was full. He removed the nozzle and repositioned it back in its holster.
He opened the car door and leaned in. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom.” He could have been speaking to a wall, as its effect would have been exactly the same. Layla was lost in her own world, fighting computer zombies, completely oblivious to her surroundings. “Tator Tot,” he said. She still didn't look up. Fuck it, he thought, closing the door. He walked around the vehicle and headed inside the QuikTrip. The bathroom was empty and he got in and used it quickly. When he was finished, he headed back towards the car.
Just as he was walking out of the QuikTrip, he saw his Caddy pulling away. He immediately broke into a sprint, to no avail. Still running, he watched the car pull out into the busy street. He kept running, jumping out into traffic in front of a guy in a gray van. The van jerked to a stop and the man honked angrily. Before he could take his hand away from the horn, Lefty was on him. He flung the door back, snatched the man, and pulled him out onto the street, dropping him. Lefty climbed into the van and stomped on the gas. The van lurched forward, leaving its owner lying behind. There was traffic, so Lefty had to swerve back and forth to progress towards the Caddy, way up ahead. As he approached an intersection, the traffic light turned yellow. “Christ!” he yelled. The light was red when he zipped through it, nearly being hit by a couple of cars on his right.
Lefty could see the Caddy, still quite a ways ahead. There were slow moving cars in front of him and he had no way to maneuver past them.
“Come on!” he yelled. As he approached another intersection, he could see the Caddy turning right. The lights were changing as he approached, and he was stuck in the left lane, unable to move towards the right one. He flipped on his turn signal, deciding he would sit there until he could get over into the right lane to turn and follow the carjacker. He considered jumping out, but knew that would be futile. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the light changed. A couple cars passed by in the right lane before Lefty was able to swerve over, striking the front end of a pickup as he did. The pickup careened over the curb, and Lefty made a hard right, following the same route the Caddy had taken. But now the road ahead was empty, and the Caddy was nowhere to be seen.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered, scanning the sides of the road, but not slowing down. As he rounded a curve, he spotted his car. It was way up ahead now, only one car between them. Lefty stomped the gas pedal to the floor, and the van shot forward. He continued gaining speed, coming up quickly on the vehicle between them. As he approached it, he swerved across the center line, into oncoming traffic, nearly being hit. He managed to get back into his lane, now just ahead of the vehicle he'd swerved around.
The Caddy was still quite a ways ahead, but he was closing in. He kept the gas pedal pressed all the way down to the floor, scenery zipping past him. He was closing in on the fucker, getting closer and closer. The Caddy was going somewhere around the speed limit, allowing Lefty to catch him rather quickly. Now the vehicle was right in front of him. Lefty continued accelerating, bumping the back of the Caddy with the front bumper of the van. The Caddy swerved from the impact, but the driver quickly regained control. Lefty pushed up on him again, tapping the Caddy a second time.
Lefty hoped Layla was okay. He had doubts the carjacker had hurt her. He wouldn't have had time since she was in the backseat and he was driving. The Caddy pulled off into the entrance of a fancy housing addition, and, to Lefty's surprise, it slowed. Before it could even come all the way to a stop, Lefty was out of the van, moving towards it. The driver's door opened and a skinny, dirty-looking methed-out white dude started to climb out. Before he could even fully stand, Lefty was on him, smashing him in the jaw with a hard right. The man tumbled back against the car, and Lefty grabbed a handful of his scraggly black hair and smashed his face down hard against the roof of the car. As the bloodied man slid down towards the pavement, Lefty caught him and kneed him hard in the crotch. The guy fell over, crumpling to the ground. Lefty stuck his head into the car, looking back at Layla sitting there. She looked shocked and had tears in her eyes, but she was alright.
“Daddy!” she screamed.
“Hi, Tator Tot,” he said, breathing hard. “You stay here for a just minute. Daddy will be right back.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition. With the keys in hand, he grabbed the fallen carjacker and dragged him on the pavement, back towards the rear of the Caddy. He pulled him around in front of the trunk. A car drove past, but all of this was obscured by the parked van. The guy didn't move. Lefty opened the trunk. He reached in and grabbed his Glock and the accompanying silencer. He screwed the silencer onto the pistol.
He stood over the man, still unconscious. “You fucked up, man,” he said. “You fucked up real bad. Nobody hurts my little girl.” He kicked him hard in the ribs, but the guy still didn't move. Lefty raised the pistol, training it on the man. “Nobody,” he repeated, squeezing the trigger twice in quick succession. He tossed the Glock into the trunk and closed it. He walked around and got back in the car.
“I'm so happy to see you,” said Layla excitedly. “I didn't think I'd ever see you again. You were right, Daddy. You rescued me from the bad man. You did what you said you'd do and you saved me.” Lefty expected her to ask if he'd killed the man the way John Wayne had killed Scar, but the thought thankfully eluded her.
“Of course I saved you, Tator Tot,” he said, backing the car up slowly. When the tires came to the man's body, the car climbed up over it, crushing bones as it did.
Layla's eyes were big. “What was that? Did we hit something?”
“We hit a rat.”
“That musta been a big rat.”
“Yeah,” he said. “A great big rat. But we're okay now. Everything's good now, Tator Tot.”
A moment passed and Layla had already moved on completely, the bad man who'd tried to steal both her and the car no
longer a blip on her radar. “Are we going to Casa Bonita now?”
Lefty grinned at her. “Sure. It's time to go to Casa Bonita.”
Lefty had looked up the address of the restaurant on the Internet, so he knew it was on Sheridan. When he came to Sheridan, he turned onto it. He wasn't a hundred percent sure exactly where the place was, so he drove slowly, looking around. Finally he saw the familiar building from his childhood. He turned into the parking lot. He couldn't see a sign, so he wasn't completely sure this was it. He drove up close to the building and saw that it was indeed the building he remembered. Unfortunately, it was no longer Casa Bonita. It was now a nightclub called Caves.
“Well, shit,” he muttered. Layla didn't hear him as she was too busy fighting zombies. “Hey, kid.” She looked up.
“What?”
“I'm afraid I got bad news.”
Layla frowned. “Are they closed today?”
“Yeah, sort of,” he said. “They're closed today. But the thing is, they're closed every day.”
Layla didn't understand. “What do you mean?”
“They went out of business,” he said. “Casa Bonita is gone.”
“So we can't eat enchiladas?” she asked, a heavy sadness in her voice.
“Maybe we can get something else.”
Layla asked, “Like what?”
“Anything you want, Tator Tot.”
Layla thought about it for a moment. Then she said, “How about McDonalds?”
“Seriously?” he asked, wondering why kids always wanted McDonalds.
“Yeah.”
“Baby,” he said, “we can have McDonalds anytime back home. We're in a new city. Why don't we try something different?”
“But I want a Happy Meal.”
“We're gonna try something different.”
Layla did not attempt to hide her displeasure, but she didn't argue.
He tried to redirect her by saying, “After we eat we'll go to the amusement park. Won't that be fun?”
She brightened, sitting up. “I can't wait.”
“Neither can I. But first we gotta find something to eat.”
They wound up eating chili dogs at a place called Coney I-Lander. The place served chili dogs with mustard on them. Lefty had never eaten them with mustard, and was surprised to discover that he liked it. Per the usual, Layla ate very little, prompting Lefty to call her a “little bird.”