by Rob Pierce
“Role-playing games. Man.” He shook his head.
If this stuff was important to him he was right, I should have known something about it. “So you played an RPG today, but it wasn’t a card game. Is that what you always do after school?”
“Sometimes we play Yugioh. Sometimes we play Magic, but I don’t have a good deck.”
“What game did you play today?”
“It’s called Hell Dwarf.”
I finished my beer, walked to the fridge and grabbed another. “What kind of game is that?”
“Everyone’s in Hell, but you’re not there for eternity unless you fuck up.”
Jeremy paused expectantly, but he wasn’t talking to his mom, I didn’t see the word fuck as a problem.
“Go on.” I sat back down.
“If you’re not there forever, you try to escape. But you have to get past the Hell Dwarf and his minions. And everyone who fucks up—” He waited again. I whirled my hand. “—Is there forever. Is one of the dwarf’s minions. So if you become a minion, you can still win by stopping everyone else from getting out.”
I didn’t care about the game except the dwarf shit. “Where do you play?”
Jeremy gulped and tightened his grip on the hoody flung over his shoulder. “A game store.”
“What game store?”
“It’s called Evil. It’s out on—”
“That joint the dwarf runs? What’s up with that little motherfucker?”
Jeremy took a step back. “I, I, don’t know. What you mean.”
“I mean the guy’s a creep. Is he ever a creep around you?”
Jeremy shook his head fast, like I was fucking with his whole existence.
“Does he ever take any of the boys into a back room, somewhere alone?”
“No, he isn’t like that! He doesn’t need to be sick, he’s Evil! He’s the Hell Dwarf!”
I took a step back, about to laugh but Jeremy was furious. “In the game,” I said.
“Yeah, in the game. You don’t know who Evil is? He’s only a legend. He makes the best new RPGs. Dark games. With winners and losers.”
“And he sets up games in the dark with little kids.”
“All ages tournaments. He lives in town. And he does pre-release parties. So we can play his games before anyone else.”
I nodded. Some old dwarf told kids his name was Evil, put that name on his door, had the kids come in for special tournaments where he ran Hell and they were his minions…
This shit would end real soon.
***
I wanted to deal with the dwarf as soon as I got up, but it was Wednesday and I had to work. “You know,” Rico started the second I sat down, “Tenny ain’t a guy who fucks around.”
“What am I, an idiot? Of course I know that.” I was in a shitty mood, might as well skip the usual friendly greetings.
“Good. Cuz before you go on vacation, there’s a little extra work.” Rico passed me my list for the day. There were a dozen more names on it than usual. “Playoff welshers,” he said. “Not huge amounts, but Tenny wants these cleared before your vacation.”
I was robbing the bank Saturday. “Will it be like this the rest of the week?”
Rico shrugged. “Do whatever Tenny says.”
I knew that much already. I’d like to be rested for the robbery. I didn’t know when I’d deal with the dwarf.
“He’ll pay extra for this,” Rico said.
I knew that too. The money wasn’t what mattered. I never should have taken a job.
***
An extra dozen names meant Tenny knew how long this was taking me, or at least how long it should. The problem was, shakedowns with people I’d never met took a lot longer than the ones with people I’d known a while. So I plowed through my old names as fast as I could, spent the rest of the day meeting new losers, hearing their goddamn stories before eventually taking some of their money. And instead of being done with work early afternoon, it was almost nine o’clock at night. I bought twice as much beer on the way home because I figured I’d need that much to wind down. And tomorrow would be more of the same.
“Where you been?” Theresa sat on the couch watching TV and she didn’t sound pissed off, but it could’ve been a trap.
“Work. And it’s probably like this the rest of the week.”
“Oh. And then you take off for you don’t know how long.”
She lifted her glass from the couch arm, and I realized her calm was scotch inflicted.
“This ain’t my idea.” I took the beers into the kitchen, put all but one in the fridge and sat next to her, put an arm around her.
She looked at me, and for a change I knew what her eyes meant. “Fuck you.”
I held my beer in one hand, raised the other in protest. “This ain’t a guy I can cross. When I get back, I won’t work for him again.”
Her glare didn’t look any happier. “When you get back.”
“Fuck!” I stood up fast. “You know what this is about. And you know it has to be now. The suitcase is empty. All the money I got is what I get from Tenny. I can’t live like that.”
I stood there and looked down at her and I drank beer and she drank scotch. I finished my beer and walked into the kitchen and got another. I returned to the couch and she finished her scotch and walked into the kitchen and poured herself one more. We had this thing down, this rhythm where we were never at the same place at the same time. We sat next to each other on the couch, drinking different drinks and walking away from each other at different times. Some day we would see each other again.
***
Thursday morning I woke to coffee brewing and cereal being sloshed down. I was on the couch. Theresa and I hadn’t fought; we were mutually pissed off but at some point she went to bed while I stayed in the living room and drank until I slept. After enough beers, a leather jacket makes a fine blanket.
I pulled the jacket over my head while Theresa and Jeremy talked quietly in the kitchen. I probably couldn’t have made out their words anyway. This way the light was muffled too. I couldn’t get back to sleep or lie there and think happy thoughts, but for a while longer I could expose myself to as little of the world as possible.
They left together. I waited five minutes, then got up. Slowly. My back was sore, so was my head. I got into the kitchen and started water for coffee. Couldn’t be late for meeting Rico, the money from yesterday’s collections was twice as much as usual and he’d want it before rewarding me with another day just as bad.
Tuesday through Friday mornings I gave Rico the cash from the day before’s collections. Friday nights we met and I gave him the day’s collections. I was trusted with the money overnight, but no one was trusted over a weekend.
I had a coffee and a shower and made another coffee to drink in the car before meeting Rico. He wasn’t at the café yet when I got there so I got my coffee and sat down. Usually I carried the cash in an envelope in an inside coat pocket. Ninety eight hundred dollars didn’t fit in an envelope that size, so I sat with a large manila envelope in my lap. It was packed tight and taped shut and I didn’t like holding it.
Rico strolled past me with a slight nod. When he came back out with his coffee, I set the envelope between our cups.
He pulled it to his side of the table. “You ain’t got a shoe box?”
“I’m lucky Theresa had envelopes this size. Or you’d get it in a fucking grocery bag.”
Rico laughed. “Look. For today and tomorrow, buy yourself a couple pairs of shoes. Take the money like a pay out from your collections. You collected from everyone on that list, right?”
I nodded.
“Jesus.” Rico shook his head and smiled. “That much talent deserves a couple pair a shoes. Just don’t go buyin’ Gucci or shit.”
“Gucci makes shoes?”
“Fuck if I know. It’s a saying.”
I drank coffee, set my cup down, nodded. “I like basketball shoes. Good support.”
Rico finished his coffee i
n a gulp, handed me my list, stood and slipped the envelope under his jacket. “The names you don’t know, bottom of the list, they’re all double your usual rate. You collect from all those lowlifes, Tenny gonna wanna keep you when you get back from vacation.”
I looked up at Rico, pushed my chair back. “And if I don’t collect, he cancels my vacation.”
Rico looked at me like I wasn’t done talking, but I hadn’t badmouthed Tenny yet and I wasn’t starting now.
***
I knew by Rico’s response that these extra guys on my collection list were supposed to be extra hard to collect from, but I’ve been asking for money since I was in school. Most people give. The ones that don’t I ask again. They all answer yes with their backs on the floor.
Another day like yesterday and all I wanted was to wind down with Theresa, but she wouldn’t want to wind down with me. Work was done, only eight o’clock this time, and I stopped at The Wheel. There was a guy behind the bar, I didn’t remember his name.
I ordered a scotch and a beer. “Hey, chief, Olive workin tonight?”
“Olivia? She’s off.”
He hadn’t paused a second on her name, I liked that. The fewer idiots, the better. I paid cash for my drinks. “I know you can’t give me her number. Could ya call her, tell her Dust is here? When you get a chance.” I dropped a twenty on the bar.
He grabbed it fast, raised his index finger to a guy down the bar trying to catch his eye—just a second—grabbed the bar phone and dialed. A few seconds later he handed it to me.
“What the fuck,” Olive said, “are you callin me for?” She sounded great.
“I don’t have your number and I want to see you.”
“You don’t have my number cuz you never wanted it.”
“Tell me a place or I’ll tell you a place. I want to be with you tonight.”
***
The alarm on my phone rang and kept ringing. I reached over Olive’s immobile body, squeezed the sides of the phone until it shut up. I let my arm fall on Olive’s bare back but she just lay there. I wanted her, but I didn’t have time to wait for her to wake up. It was Friday morning and I had to meet Rico.
I grabbed my pants from the floor and stumbled to the bathroom. Hungover, tired, the only thing right was I was alone. I didn’t want to see anyone right now. After tonight I was going away, and I didn’t want to think about who or what I was coming back to. Two more meets with Rico, one this morning and one tonight, then my bank job tomorrow and for two weeks I’d be gone.
Fresh from the shower, I made coffee in the kitchen, tried to remember last night. Olive met with me and we drank, we came here and we drank, and it got a whole lot better than that but the details faded. Now I made coffee for one. I was glad my pants weren’t bloodstained from the day before, were clean enough to wear again.
The money I’d collected was in a shoebox, the new shoes still in the trunk of my car, not worn since I tried them on at the shoe store. The box, I thought suddenly, and ran from the kitchen to the bedroom, that fucking bitch… The box was on the floor beside the bed. I flipped the lid off it. The money still lay inside. Jesus, I’d been careless. Fucking glad I’d be giving today’s money to Rico before I slept anywhere. I didn’t know where I’d sleep tonight.
***
Another day of beating money from sonsofbitches too stupid to pay without getting beaten. This time there was blood on my pants by the time I was done. I’d have to go home and change before the robbery tomorrow. Last night I had a lot on my mind, and none of it had to do with wardrobe.
A shoebox was a weird thing to hand off in a bar, so I met Rico in a restaurant parking lot. He took the lid off a second, put it back down, put the box in his trunk and shut it. “You have a nice vacation. Call me when you’re back.”
“Yeah,” I said, like that was a choice. I had to go home first. Go home and leave, then come back. However it was going to go, I had to see Theresa first. Too much stuff there. I’d go back for what was mine. First I had to find out what was still ours.
***
It wasn’t that late and I wasn’t drunk, but I’d spent a night away. Theresa greeted me with a glare. I didn’t smile either, there was nothing to smile about.
I popped a beer. “You want one?”
She shook her head so I stuck the other eleven beers in the fridge. I’d bought extras in case she was joining me. They were Mexican beers anyway; if I drank all twelve I wouldn’t get a hangover. Mainly I wanted this night to be the two of us together. I wanted her waiting for me when I came back.
She stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed. Nothing was cooking and she wasn’t drinking. It’d be crazy if she was waiting for me, but I didn’t see her doing anything else.
“What are you,” I asked, “pissed off?”
“You getting in some practice for when you’re gone two weeks?”
“I’ll be alone two weeks. I can practice that here.”
“Fuck you.” She opened the fridge, grabbed one of the beers. “You alone last night?”
“I work late, I play late. You don’t wanna see me that drunk anyway. Rico don’t give a fuck, he just gets drunker.”
“Since when don’t I drink with you?”
“I can’t talk work with you.”
She opened her mouth and I shook my head. “No, I said.”
She drank instead of talking.
“There’s shit you can’t know.”
“There’s a lot I don’t know.” She set her bottle down, leaned back against the counter. She looked tired, but she looked good. “You’re leaving after tonight and I don’t know how long you’ll be gone. I won’t know a damn thing about what you do while you’re away. I’ll never know the stuff about what you do, this badass shit you love. You’ll come back here expecting a home, and I want to give you one, but I don’t even know why.”
I shook my head. “Fuck if I know.”
“That ain’t enough!” She pushed her beer and it toppled. I picked up the bottle, stared at the spill on the linoleum floor.
“What the fuck?” I took a step back, took a long pull from my bottle, set it down and looked at her sincere as I could. The puddle sat there, she could wipe it up if she wanted. I took a deep breath, didn’t know if I could make the words come out right, exhaled. “You can’t know about my work. It puts you in danger. It puts Jeremy in danger. But you can trust me on other things. That puts me better than most.”
“And that’s what I have to settle for.”
“Right now, yeah.”
It worried me. I didn’t know why a woman like Theresa would have to settle. The competition must’ve been bigger assholes than me. Anyway, that’s what I hoped.
She grabbed her beer and took a drink. “This thing tomorrow—you don’t have to do this.”
I shook my head. “Wrong. This is the one thing I have to do.”
“You need this more than you need me.”
I slammed my palm against the fridge door. I spoke soft. “It’s two different things.”
She shuddered, but only a second. “I’m a thing to you.”
“You’re what I wanna come back to. But I gotta go away.”
She blinked. Her eyes were wet. “God, you make me an idiot.”
That was what I hoped. I stepped into her arms and we kissed.
***
I wore the same outfit as at the last robbery, blue suit with a gray tie and a white shirt, salt and pepper wig and moustache. The bank was similar too, small and narrow, with only two tellers although there was room for plenty more. There were a couple of desks for “personal bankers” or whatever the fuck they were called, but Saturdays no one worked them. There was a security guard in the lobby, too young and soft to be an ex-cop, but he had a gun on his hip. I knew by his face that he’d never used it, but he might if he got scared.
The line was a little longer than last time, and wasn’t moving. Standing still bugged the hell out of me, but that was how it went sometimes. I was fifth in
a line of five when I got there. After ten minutes, I was fifth out of ten.
It was like getting stuck in traffic, knowing there’s an accident and once you get past it everything will be fine. But here I could see the accident, an ancient man with one teller and a woman in a business suit with the other, and I had no idea when it was going to clear. I wished an ambulance would show up and haul the bodies away.
I stood there as calmly as I could, sweating a little but trying not to show it. Anyway, I looked a helluva lot calmer than the old woman two people ahead of me. She had white hair and a knee-length dress and dark stockings so you didn’t have to see her legs. But she tapped on the rubber ropes between the poles that ran along either side of us, keeping time. She turned periodically to hiss something at the person behind her. I couldn’t hear the words but her pissed-off tone came through. Her face was gaunt and almost as white as her hair.
She was in constant motion, a hummingbird harpy, patting the rope and talking first to the person behind her then to the person in front. Finally the old man walked away from his teller and another old man replaced him. The harpy moved forward but remained as upset as before, it was clear every time she opened her beak. I was grateful I couldn’t hear what she said, but she was throwing me off. I was trying to relax and she was clearly upset, no doubt in a hurry because she could die any time, but she looked mean enough to outlive everyone who wanted her dead.
I was fourth in line now, she was second, but that wasn’t close enough for her. She raised her voice so everyone could hear. “It’s not like we don’t have other things to do! It’s not like they don’t know that!”
Her craziness was better than mine. She wasn’t the woman who might not let me back, or the woman who might; she wasn’t the kid who might still need my protection, or the pedophile dwarf I had to protect him from; she wasn’t the gangster who liked my skills more than I liked using them. She wasn’t anyone I should care about, but I had to rob this bank today and she was two people in front of me and she wouldn’t shut up.
The second old man finished with his teller and walked away. Another old man made his way to that teller. The woman in the business suit remained with the other teller.