Uncle Dust

by Rob Pierce

  Olive shook her head at the guy, the girlfriend stood behind him looking scared, and the guy got up on his knees, like he dared me to step forward.

  “Big Joan’s,” I said again, and backed to the door.

  “Go there,” Olive said to me. She looked at the man on the floor. “And you don’t. Please.”

  ***

  The bartender at Big Joan’s was this young guy named Alex with a thin mustache that I’d call a mistake, but he was vaguely European and good looking enough to get away with it. I didn’t give a shit. There was no TV behind the bar and my eyes wandered the room without finding any beauties. There were couples at tables and some of the women were cute but they did little for me: skinny and clean, hanging out with unshaven boys who wore scarves and needed showers. I couldn’t imagine being with a woman who’d put up with that. Their boyfriends were dirty, not tough.

  I sat at the bar and talked briefly with Alex. He wasn’t all that interesting either, but at least he wasn’t a woman with an idiot. And I didn’t have to care about the women here, Olive would show up soon. I hoped.

  “You know Olive from down the street? Olivia at The Wheel?”

  “Oh, yeah, Olivia, yeah.” He nodded, and although I assumed English was his first language, he didn’t seem real good at it.

  “She come in here with guys a lot?”

  “Olivia, no, alone.” There wasn’t an accent, but he talked like there should have been. He was a blond guy in a nice shirt and slacks, but beyond how to get dressed his brain didn’t seem to tell him much.

  “So she comes in alone.”

  Alex nodded, fast, like he was trying to please me.

  “Another beer.” I tapped my empty glass. A slow guy behind the bar had to be bad for business, however pretty he was. If the bar was crowded I might think I was wrong, that he appealed to the stupid people so they packed the place, but this was a long way from packed. And it was Friday night. Shit, people were drinking somewhere else just to avoid the pretty boy.

  Alex turned his back to get my beer, so I turned mine and looked out the door as Olive walked in.

  She sat down beside me. “That was stupid,” she said. “You’re lucky there aren’t cops here.”

  “Over a push in a bar? How small is this town?”

  She shook her head.

  Alex was pouring my beer, still unaware he had a new customer.

  “Alex!” I said.

  “Don’t shout, you’ll scare him.”

  Alex turned and he did look frightened.

  “You having a Maker’s Mark?” I asked Olive.

  “Oh, Olivia, it is you,” Alex said, in that weird unaccented English As A Second Language voice.

  “Yeah,” she said to me.

  “A Maker’s Mark for the lady. Then you can finish pouring my beer.”

  Olive patted my thigh. “You are so fucking gallant.”

  “Yeah, but I think I’ve confused him.”

  Alex stood there staring at us.

  I looked back at him, spoke slowly. “My Guinness pours slowly. Pour a tall bourbon first, then finish mine.”

  “You’re having a bourbon?”

  I looked at Olive. “It might be faster if we went to a liquor store and drank at your place.”

  I stood and put a ten on the bar, looked back at Alex. “I’ll be back for that tomorrow.” I took Olive’s hand and we walked out of the bar.

  ***

  We took separate cars and met outside her building.

  “You can be such a prick,” she said as I stepped up to her. “That poor idiot might save that beer for you.”

  I pushed her against the building door. “I’m starving.” I bit her neck lightly.

  She put a hand in my chest and I backed away so she could let us inside. All I wanted was inside.

  Her hair was black and I ran my hand down it as she stepped in before me. The front door shut behind us and my hand was on her ass when we reached the elevator. The doors opened and no one was inside and I pushed her in there and she spun around to kiss me as the door shut. We were tight in each others’ arms when we reached her floor. The doors slid open and we let go enough to make it into the hall. We grabbed at each other all the way to her room.

  There were four latches on her door. I slid every one shut. Olive threw her coat behind her, then she raised her arms and flung her shirt back. I was going to say nice things to her but she stood there in a bra and loose slacks and I grabbed her. And we were on the floor and our clothes were gone and I loved her as much as I could love anyone.

  ***

  I woke up naked next to Olive and that was enough. It was Saturday, I didn’t even need to get out and meet Rico. I rolled back on top of her and kissed her. I smiled. “You are so fucking edible.”

  Her body was too much. I grabbed one part in my hands, another in my teeth, there was always more of her or I’d never let go. It was the rest of my life I didn’t want to return to but knew I had to. For now I held Olive tight, and as long as I did I had nowhere to go.

  ***

  I lay beside Olive, waited for her to get up with me, but she worked nights, she’d never get up. I made coffee for one, got dressed. Her apartment was so small it was probably affordable, just a kitchenette and the bedroom and a little bathroom and one more room with a TV and a couch and a computer, all jammed together. I walked around with my cup of coffee, taking small steps, taking it in.

  I finished my coffee fast, set the cup in the sink and got into the shower.

  The hot water felt good. I stayed under it long enough to think. Theresa was going to be pissed off, and I wasn’t done with Jeremy. And I had to sort that out fast; Super Bowl weekend was only a couple weeks away, and I’d be robbing a bank two weeks after that. It would be a mistake to rob a bank without a home to return to. Until I knew what was up with Theresa, I had to have Olive as a backup.

  Every thought was feverish, incomplete and followed by another. Most of it was simple if I could stop long enough to focus. I needed to work out the robbery details. When I knew those, I’d know how to approach Theresa.

  ***

  I left before Olive got up. I got in my car and drove to Edgarsville, tried not to think about Theresa on the way, didn’t do so well. I’d go back to the apartment tonight, have to talk to her about where I’d been last night. Drinking with Rico hadn’t gone over the first time I used it, definitely wouldn’t explain the whole night this time. I wanted her to love me, at least until this job was done.

  Theresa wasn’t supposed to concern herself with how I spent my nights away from her. It was happening now, and it was my fault, because I’d let her know me. I didn’t want her to, but she cared about that stuff and I cared about her. It was like a disease.

  I drove my goddamned car down to Edgarsville and I did another walk-through in the bank, flipped through forms at one of those counters with the deposit slips and walked back out, then drove around that town, checking the back roads I planned to take and the roads they ran into. I did all that driving and I did it again, and I didn’t bother with Val’s place because I knew about that, then I drove south of Val’s place and worked out my return trip, without seeing her, without seeing anyone. The last thing I wanted today was words from a woman.

  ***

  I’d been on these roads a lot in this car, but I’d ditch it soon and drive something stolen when I pulled the robbery. For now I drove back to Theresa’s, not because I wanted to but because I needed a place to stay until the bank job. Then I could go wherever I wanted.

  I stopped for beer but took it all back to the apartment, a six pack in each hand when I walked in the door.

  Theresa was in the kitchen. She wore a loose t-shirt and jeans and wasn’t doing anything as far as I could tell. She faced me with her fists on her hips. “Need to drink a lot tonight?”

  “Happy to share.” I walked into the kitchen and set one six pack on a counter, stepped toward the fridge with the other.

  “You ain’t hap
py about shit.”

  I looked at her as I opened the fridge door. “Maybe not.” I stuck the beers on a shelf, grabbed one from the other six pack and handed it to her, grabbed another for me and stuck the rest in the fridge and shut the door. “Wouldn’t be right if only one of us was happy.”

  I pulled an opener from a drawer, held one hand over hers as I opened her beer, picked up the cap and opened my bottle, threw both caps away.

  Theresa clasped her beer tight. “This ain’t you.”

  “What, getting you a drink? I done that a hundred times.”

  “Never when you’re mad.”

  “Always.”

  “No.” Theresa raised her Negra Modelo and tilted her neck back, took a long drink. “When I’m mad, yeah. Never when you’re mad.”

  “I want stuff to be right.”

  “You want something. And not only tonight.”

  I hated smart women. “I’ve been working, and I can’t always talk about my work. I want to drink. With you. I’m going to drink. Is Jeremy home?”

  “He’s in his room.”

  “I’m putting on music. Join me or don’t.”

  She took a drink and I walked into the living room, turned on the stereo and sat on the couch.

  She stood in front of me. “It’s not like you want to dance. We have all this room,” she waved an arm behind her at the little living room, “and you sit there.”

  I waved an arm at the stereo. “You wanna dance, go ahead. You need different music, put it on.”

  She crossed the room to the CD collection. I liked to watch her walk, even in loose jeans, . She put on some early James Brown and turned to me expectantly. She twisted her legs and spun her hips. I sat on the couch and watched the show. She danced across the room that way. By the time she reached the couch I was ready to do something with her. Dancing wasn’t it, but she reached out her hand and I took it and stood. She wriggled and shook; I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and otherwise stood still. I wondered whether she really believed me that I’d been working or if she had something else going on, but mainly I watched her body move and wanted to do something about it.

  ***

  It was late, and we were drunk, and James Brown came on again but we just sat on the couch and looked at each other. I liked Theresa. I liked her but I couldn’t be this regular person she wanted sometimes. I liked Jeremy and I was okay with him playing his card games; I could help him in other ways. And I felt like I’d saved all three of us from the Davis problem twice, but like the villain in a horror flick he’d keep coming back until I lopped off his head. Night of the Living Davis.

  I couldn’t talk to Theresa about any of this. Everything physical was good. Everything verbal or in the future was confused at best. I didn’t say a word because I couldn’t honestly say what she wanted to hear and this moment wasn’t big enough for me to lie to her. I leaned into her and we kissed.

  I kept leaning, groped at her, and she pulled back.

  “You know,” she said, “I don’t expect you to say you love me.”

  That must have done something to the expression on my face. It was about the last thing I expected to hear.

  “You’d be lying if you said it.” She took a swig from her beer and I took one of relief from mine. “I don’t love you either.” Surprise number two. “It’s too early for that. I think it would be nice if you stuck around long enough for both of us to find out.”

  I smiled. It was exactly what I wanted to hear, as far as my robbery strategy went. But I didn’t know how I felt about it. It confused me. My plan was to persuade her to keep me around until after the robbery. Now she talked like she wanted me back. It was supposed to be my chance to leave and never return. Now I had to figure whether that was what I wanted.

  ***

  “That’s all on you, man.” If Rico ever got a t-shirt with words on it maybe I could tell if he’d changed clothes. But they were all plain white, and he always wore the same black leather jacket over it, and all his jeans were the same solid blue. He sat there with his coffee where he always sat, like every day was the same day. “If she’s your woman and the kid’s your kid, you do one thing. If not…” Rico shrugged.

  “I know.” I was dressed the same as him, except my shirt was black. “She’s fucking me up.”

  “Jesus, she must be good. I never seen you sensitive.” Rico smiled.

  “Fuck you. It works for now, I do this job, I figure it out. Nothing like this ever lasts.”

  Rico shook his head. “Not yet, for you or me. But I seen a lotta guys get hooked.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see. I gotta live a certain way.”

  Rico sipped his coffee, I don’t know how he could talk but he did. “We all do.”

  “I can’t ever talk to her about anything I do when I’m not there. If she’s good with that…” I shook my head and grinned.

  “Safe at home.”

  Rico was fucking wise, pretty much a perfect friend.

  ***

  The work was still getting to me. Ever since that thing with Stanton— I’d gotten too good at it, I was too ready to fuck someone up, I was the man Tenny wanted me to be. I was half out of my mind and the payments came fast, no one who owed money wanted me anywhere near them. I was doing six hours work in two or three hours, my afternoons were free. And I didn’t know what to do with them.

  Two o’clock and I’d done all my collections. I supposed if I worked this fast I could rob a bank on my last Friday. But if Tenny found out I was working this fast he’d want me to do more. I couldn’t let Rico know. That left Theresa as the only person I could bitch to. Well, not the only one, but the other choices were crazy. I looked at where I was, and I figured crazy was my only option.

  ***

  I pulled up outside Jeremy’s school. He wasn’t out yet but he would be soon. I waited. I wondered how different this would be from the game tournament, whether he’d have a friend with him when he walked out of school.

  I kept the stereo low. He didn’t know I was coming, so I’d have to flag him down. He probably didn’t want me there either. The radio played recent metal. It wasn’t good, and whatever strengths it might have had were lost without volume. I got a little impatient behind the wheel, took a quick tug from the flask of scotch in my inside jacket pocket. Finally, there was a bell, and they released the prisoners.

  The kids ran out amok. A few school employees tried to shepherd them, but they weren’t sheep, and only the ones waiting for buses showed any kind of control. The kids free to go flooded out, and I watched for the one in a thousand who was mine.

  I saw the first couple hundred, the sprinters, then I saw the crowd that followed, in groups mostly of six or eight, sometimes pairs. Then I saw Jeremy. Alone. I recognized his hoody and his size, still small for his age. His head was down but if I hollered his name he’d look up and see me. I figured that wasn’t much better than if I yelled “Honey, I love you!” I drove away slowly, watched him walk on his own, wondered what he did all the hours until he came home.

  ***

  I waited on the couch. I had a beer but I was sober, and the music wasn’t loud. “Jeremy,” I said, when he walked in the door. It was just past six o’clock. “Have a seat.” I patted the cushion beside mine.

  Jeremy dropped his two-ton pack and slunk into the kitchen, chugged his usual milk and came back out, sat down beside me.

  “I don’t think beating up the bullies made you as popular as I thought it would.”

  “It’s a,” Jeremy shrugged, “a gradual process.”

  “I came to pick you up after school today. There’s something I want to talk about. Now I guess there’s two somethings.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, there was something I wanted to tell you. But now I think there’s something you should tell me.”

  Jeremy looked at me like I was out of my mind. “I didn’t see you. If you wanna talk, go ahead.”

  I nodded, drank from my beer, stood and
looked down at him. “Yeah I wanna talk.” What I wanted to tell the kid was crazy, I could hear the words in my head—I don’t like my job, I’m too good at scaring people who owe my boss money, I want to hurt every one of them until they pay, and maybe even then—but I couldn’t say that, not to a boy. Not even one I’d taught how to fight. I took a deep breath. “What I wanna know is what you do between three and six if you ain’t got any friends.”

  “I have friends.”

  “Not at school. I was there.”

  Jeremy stuffed his hands deep into his hoody pockets, looked down at the cheap carpet. “My friends are from other schools.”

  “So long as they’re kids your own age.” I drank.

  Jeremy sniffled. “Some are a little older.”

  I cringed. I hated this whole gamer crowd. “How much older?”

  “Some—”Jeremy paused—“are twelve or thirteen.”

  Oh Jesus, he nearly killed me. “And that’s it?”

  Jeremy nodded fast.

  “Your age to thirteen?”

  Jeremy kept nodding.

  “Get to bed.”

  He hesitated, saw I was serious, ran down the hall. Way too early for bed, but the boy liked his room. Little motherfucker, scared the shit out of me. Thirteen year olds can be trouble, but nothing like when they’re older. And if they were older—oh, God, they were definitely older, and into what? Little boys? I’d find out whatever was bullshit tomorrow, and I’d deal with it then.

  ***

  I heard the doorknob turning, set down my beer and got to the door in an instant, looked out the eyehole. I stepped back as the door opened and Theresa walked in.

  “Oh!”

  I’d scared her but her purse was over her shoulder and she carried nothing else. I pushed the door shut behind her and kissed her.

  “What’s that about?” She smiled.

  I grabbed my beer and took a drink. She set her purse on the kitchen counter. “Jeremy’s not so popular in school as I thought.”

  “Oh?” She looked at me. “Is he here?”

  “In his room.”