To Sleep Gently

by Trent Zelazny

  "I'd lost the napkin you'd written your number on. I spent over two hours looking for it. I even went back to Starbucks and they let me poke through the trash. Finally I found it under the front seat of my car, but by that time it was too late to call."

  He kissed her cheek and held her tighter. "Are you still leaving tomorrow?"

  "Not if you're here when I wake up."

  The heat between them rose again. A minute later they were lying down together, and a minute after that Sandra turned off the light.

  4

  He was conscious that his body ached before he opened his eyes. His muscles were stiff. His jaw ached. His stomach throbbed. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, though it was no pleasure ride. He stared up at the ceiling for a while. It wasn't quite dawn, and the soft light cutting into the room had an almost majestic silver tint. The only sound was the muffled rush of the occasional car driving out on Cerrillos Road.

  He turned his head and looked at Sandra snuggled on her side, facing him, breathing gently. She looked so peaceful. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, but wouldn't allow himself. He didn't want to wake her. He didn't want anything to spoil this moment. He wanted to enjoy this for exactly what it was.

  This time I'm going to keep her, he said.

  Her eyes fluttered. Then they opened and she saw him. She lifted her head, and when she did he kissed her.

  She smiled a sleepy smile at him. "It's early."

  He kissed her again. Then he watched her head settle back into the pillow. Watched the smile slowly fade from her lips as she drifted off once more to Never Land. For a while he just looked at her and listened to the wisps of her soft breathing.

  The darkness, the confinement—I thought it had crushed everything out of me. Shelley had taken it away from me a long, long time ago. Had taken the one thing I thought I could believe in. That's why I had placed a coffin lid over my heart. That's why I am the person I am today.

  But what I am is a fake. I've been a fake for a long time. Maybe, in some way, you were right, Mister Reflection of Myself. Maybe I have been so cluttered with wants and desires that I just couldn't figure out exactly what I wanted. And yet I thought I didn't want anything. Or I thought I wanted something that I never really. I don't know.

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She smiled a little but that was it.

  I hadn't made a coffin of my heart. Or if I had, someone dug it up and opened it. And that someone is asleep beside me right now.

  He eased back down, placed his arm around her, and closed his eyes. It didn't matter to him if he slept or not.

  Then her voice came, faint and dreamy. "So are you a bank robber or a hit man or something?"

  He opened his eyes and saw that hers were still closed. "You're in the ballpark," he told her.

  Her lips curved. "Okay," she said, then snuggled in close to him. "Just so long as you're really Jack."

  "Dempster," he said.

  "Huh?"

  "I'm Jack Dempster. For Lack of a better way to put it, I commit illegal acts for money."

  For a moment her face was expressionless, then her eyebrows bounced up briefly on her forehead and her lids closed down. "You probably don't get benefits with that."

  "In a way I do."

  She kissed him then. "Are you kidding?"

  "No."

  "Good," she said. "Be honest with me. I don't care what you do, as long as you're honest."

  "I'll do my best," he told her. "I don't want to lie to you."

  She nestled close. A small eternity passed before she spoke.

  Then, "Jack?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Did you sleep with that girl?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you sleep with her when I called?"

  "No."

  She put her arm around him. "I'm glad," she said.

  "I'm not. I never should have at all. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be."

  "Can't help it."

  "Your issue."

  A couple of minutes later they were both asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dempster stumbled into the bathroom around 10:30, rubbing his eyes and trying to work the stiffness out of his back. He closed the door, looked at himself in the mirror, and saw a tired, bruised, aging man. For the first time in quite a while, however, he didn't feel old. He ran the faucet, rinsed his mouth out and washed his face, deciding he would wait to shower until he got back to the house.

  Are you going back to the house? You could toss the cell phone, leave the car downtown where it is, and join Sandra in getting the hell out of this place.

  He looked at himself again, and asked, "Is that what you wanna do?"

  Yes, but you have a commitment. You agreed to do this. And if it all works out, you can go away forever and take Sandra with you. You can start the new life you keep thinking about, only it will be better than you had imagined. In order to do that, though, you have to stick to your commitment. If you back out now, you won't have any way to start that life. Neither of you has much money, and to build a new life you need cash. How much of what Freddy gave you do you have left? Not much. It's impressive you've made it last as long as you have.

  Looking casually around the bathroom, he felt the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. Then he said to hell with it, and turned on the shower, making the water as hot as he could stand.

  When he came out fifteen minutes later, Sandra was sitting on the bed.

  Beside her were his pants, and in her hands she held a yellow piece of paper. She appeared to be reading it over and over again, or maybe not reading it at all and just thinking about it. She turned to him. "It fell out of your pocket," she said.

  He sat down beside her, and looked down at the flyer he'd taken from the library bulletin board yesterday.

  Earn Your High School Diploma Now!

  Isn't it about time you earned your High School Diploma? A significant step forward in life and in your career, a high school diploma not only will increase your earning potential, but doors will open to more opportunities and even more educational choices.

  Start creating the life you want.

  Call now!

  (505) 555-6172

  He reached over, gently took it from her, and refolded it. Neither said a word for quite some time. Sandra got up and finished getting packed. Dempster slid on his pants and returned the paper to his back pocket. After he eased into his shirt Sandra hooked his arm.

  "You're here for a job, aren't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Obviously not the job you told me about."

  "Right."

  "You must really love me."

  "Why?"

  "Why else would you risk blowing everything?"

  "If I felt there had been a risk, I wouldn't have told you."

  She gnawed on that for a moment. Then, "When does it happen?"

  "Soon."

  "Anyone gonna get hurt?"

  "I hope not."

  "When it's done, what are you going to do?"

  "Skip town."

  "How about you and me going away together?"

  "I've been thinking about that."

  "Have you?"

  "Yes. I've been thinking about that a lot."

  "Good."

  "Where do we go?"

  "Anywhere. We'll go anywhere, all over the country. All over the world."

  "And what happens when we can no longer stand each other?"

  "Do you think that's going to happen?"

  "Gotta be realistic," he told her. "I think you might get tired of someone considerably older than you, who spends most of his time worshipping you in his own cryptic ways."

  "No moreso than you might grow weary of a young over-privileged Lit major who spouts out recondite information on subjects she knows nothing about, and who still thinks it's chic to mentally work out with pseudo-intellectual exercises."

  "I dunno," Dempster said. "Maybe we're both so weird that we deserve each other."

  "You can g
et your high school diploma," she said. "If you want, you can even go on to college. We can travel around the world. Or we can get a little cottage or a cabin in some rural area—somewhere in Maine, maybe, or I've heard Maryland is very beautiful—and we can just live our lives. If we have to, we can work as grocery baggers or gas station attendants or whatever will pay the bills. I could work in a greenhouse. We can spend our nights and weekends reading to one another, drinking wine and making love. I've always kind of wanted to try my hand at writing a novel."

  "I think you've got a screw loose," he told her. "Are you kidding me? I'm a convicted felon. I'm dangerous as all hell to be around. Not that I would ever hurt you, or anything, but think about the risks involved in being with someone like me."

  "I love you, Jack."

  "Are you sure you really do?"

  "Yes."

  "You're sure? You're not just swept up in some false romance?"

  "Huh?"

  "Some world in your head where you think I'm gonna haul you away somewhere beyond the clouds, and it's all gonna be milk and honey from here on out, happily ever after and all that?"

  "What did I tell you last night, Jack? I'm a pretty observant girl. I can see deeper than most people can. And what I see in you is something on the special side. Something so amazing that I can't even describe it. I've never had a connection with someone like the connection I immediately found with you."

  "So you're willing to risk your entire life to be with me—or someone like me, maybe?"

  "No, it's you that I want."

  "Okay, that's fine, but it's not going to be springtime all year round."

  "Who said anything about spring? Look, Jack, stop sounding like the Big Bad Wolf. The fact remains that I now know who and what you are and I still want to be with you. Crazy as it sounds, I can get past that. I'm not going to do anything illegal myself. It's not like I'm going to barge into an elegant party waving a gun over my head, demanding everybody's jewelry. My only crimes might be worrying about you too much, and wanting to be with you too much of the time."

  "And what happens the day they pick us up, and without doing anything more than being with me, you suddenly find yourself in a cell?"

  She snickered. "So long as my soul is still intact when I die, I'll let the world take me wherever it wants to." She kissed him on the cheek, then on the mouth.

  "And you think you can keep your soul intact?"

  "I have so far."

  "You're still young."

  "And you're old and bitter."

  "The better to be grumpy with."

  "Then there we have it," she said. "If I can make possibly the stupidest decision of my life, then you should be able to accept me. We both need to accept that there's something special here. You gotta be willing to give me at least half a chance."

  They stood there for a long time, fingers twisting together. "I didn't realize when I first met you," he told her, "that you were a lunatic."

  "I'm not always," she said, "but 'every reform movement has a lunatic fringe.'"

  "So are you reforming, Roosevelt?"

  "I think we both are," she said. "Don't you feel it?"

  "I dunno. Maybe."

  "Spoken with true confidence." She kissed him again. "So what are we going to do?"

  He clasped her hands tight. "This will all be over very soon. When it is, if you're really sure about this, and you better be damn sure, then it'll be you and me. Hell, maybe we can even work on making that little fantasy of yours come true."

  "I just want us to be together," she told him.

  He held her close. "I like the way that sounds."

  2

  At six o'clock Dempster pulled into the driveway of 1045 Coyote's End Trail and saw that Gardner's Toyota was already there. Inside, the four of them were at the kitchen table, the hotel layout and a couple of other papers spread out on top of the street map.

  When Jimmy saw him, he exclaimed with a rare enthusiasm, "Man, this is gonna be one hell of a haul! I bet there's enough in there right now that, if we wanted, we could buy the hotel when this is all done."

  "Yeah, just what I wanna do with it," Clark said, puffing away on a cigarette. Then to Dempster, "The hell you been?"

  "A lot of things I need to attend to," he said. "After this, I'm going back out."

  "The hell happened to you? Looks like someone pulled you out of a crushed car and went at you with a baseball bat."

  "Little crises last night. Everything's taken care of."

  No one said anything to that.

  Sandra had taken Dempster back to his car a little before five, where he'd found a parking ticket stuck under the wiper blade. There were a couple of movies that Sandra wanted to see, so she had gone to one. If Dempster wasn't waiting for her outside when it was through, she was going to see another.

  Evan handed him a sheet of paper. "Here's the list of safe deposit boxes."

  "I think you'll be pleased with the result," Gardner said.

  Dempster studied it for a while. Out of two hundred boxes, one hundred and forty-seven of them were currently occupied. He looked over at Clark, who was still puffing on his cigarette. "You need to study this." Then to Evan, "And so do you." He handed it back.

  "That'll be easy," Evan said.

  "Y'think so?" Clark asked. "That's a lotta boxes to remember."

  "Out of two hundred boxes, a hundred and forty-seven of them are full, right? That leaves only fifty-three empty. Remember the empty ones and we'll be golden."

  "Think that's the way to do it?" Clark asked.

  "Of course it is."

  Dempster looked at Gardner, "You know the combination for the safe?"

  "Yes, yes, don't worry, I got it right here." He picked up another sheet of paper.

  "No, don't show it to us. None of us can do that part."

  "What?"

  "You can't let any of us know the combination. If any of us let the tiniest hint slip out, they'll know it was an inside job. The cops will come down on you like you can't even imagine." He looked at the sheet of paper in Gardner's hand. "Have these guys seen it yet?"

  Gardner gulped air. "No."

  "Good. Keep the combination for yourself. Don't show it to any of us."

  Gardner tore out a small section of the page and stuffed it into the pocket of his tan blazer. His hands trembled as he did.

  To the other three: "Do we have everything we need?"

  "I think so," Clark said. "I've gone over it all about five times."

  "Make sure you go over it another five," Dempster told him.

  "What's with the airplane model glue?" Jimmy asked.

  "Instead of gloves," Dempster told him. "Better maneuverability. Two or three coats of glue on your fingertips works just as well as any glove, and this way you have your own hands."

  "That's rather ingenious," Gardner told him.

  "I didn't make it up," Dempster said. "Now what else you got on that piece of paper?"

  Gardner hesitated, then handed over the sheet of paper with the small section ripped out of it. "It's a list of the night staff working tomorrow," he said. "I pull the nightshift, which I only do twice a week. I'll be at the front desk along with this kid, Syd Ramsland, about seventeen years old. He's pretty new and still doesn't know everything. He's strictly by the book so far but he's also a coward, shouldn't cause you any trouble at all. There'll also be one parking attendant in the garage, and we're probably safe, but there is twenty-four hour room service, so there'll be a couple guys way back in the depths of the kitchen. The two guards will be in the back room. Remember, they're armed. Three men will be in the security station, on the other side of the Old House Restaurant, also armed. Most of the year there's only two, but during the summer, when the season picks up, they add a third, just to be safe. And then there's Howard, the night watchman. He patrols the entire grounds, every floor. Unlike the rest of security, he isn't armed with anything other than mace."

  "And you have the access code for the e
ngineering area?"

  "In pencil, down at the bottom of that page."

  Dempster read it. 3114, very easy to remember. He looked back at Doug Gardner. "Another question about the safe deposit boxes."

  "Yes?"

  "They have double nose locks. Doesn't that mean they need two keys?"

  "Yes, two keys are required to open each box. I thought we'd discussed this already. Why?"

  "I just wanna make sure you have copies of both keys. Way I understand it, you or whoever was working would have a key, and the guy who has his stuff in the box would have the other key. We can't go at them with hammers or anything like that. We need to have both keys."

  "Believe me," Gardner said, a tiny bit smug, "we would never be foolish enough to send a guest away with the only copy of a safe deposit key."

  "I just wanna be sure. After all, they were foolish enough to hire you."

  Gardner's lips pressed tight and his eyes narrowed.

  "Remember," Dempster said, turning to Clark and Evan, "when you get into that back room and get everything situated, you have to make a good show of pressing Gardner here for information and action. Don't be afraid to get a little rough." He watched Gardner's tight expression reverse into discomfort. "You gotta push him until he gives in and fetches the keys. You gotta push him to work the combination on the safe. And Gardner, you gotta hold out a little, try to put up a fight—but not for too long. Just long enough to make it look good."

  "I got it," Gardner said, his voice shaky.

  "All right. And you guys remember where to park?"

  "Sure," Evan said. "Do you?"

  "Don't worry about me," Dempster said. Then he added, "I'm glad that I stopped by there a couple times. With this layout you only get a very general sense of the place."

  "Nothing like first-hand experience," Clark said.

  "And the uniforms are together and ready?"

  "Everything is good to go."

  "Okay, I'm packing up. Won't be staying here tonight. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

  "What is it you do with all your free time?" Evan asked.

  "I attend to things of a different nature," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  3

  At the mall he parked right next to Sandra's Nissan and waited for about forty-five minutes. He was lost deep in thought when she knocked on his window.