The Accomplice: The Stairway Press Edition

by Darryl Ponicsan

  “She has more than her share of maternal instincts already,”

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  “She’s sick, Gordon. I mean, my landlady can tell she’s sick, why can’t you? Her and Mrs. Lister and that horrid muscleman she keeps around.”

  “Bomba the Jungle Boy.”

  Maria shuddered. “Your mother is one thing, but that one...he frightens me.”

  “He’s harmless. He’s just a dumb drifter looking for a home. They mother him.”

  “There’s a psychiatrist I know, I’ve talked to him about her.”

  “She’s been to a psychiatrist.”

  Maria was surprised and encouraged. “What did he say?”

  “That she was perfectly normal. I think he liked her.”

  She turned away from him. She felt like a woman in love with a married man. “I don’t like knowing my mother-in-law can come and take away my husband any time she pleases.”

  “You saw what condition she was in that night She was out of control.”

  “I’m practically in hiding.”

  “I’m doing what I can,” said Gordon. “I want to make it work. I have to! What do you want me to do, lock her up?”

  “Yes!” she yelled.

  Gordon looked down at the sidewalk. “Toss her in the loony bin, right?”

  “A hospital, Gordon, where sick people are cared for.”

  He had hoped for something to happen when he became a husband; he was sure it would, once he became the father of a son, who would be a boy like other boys, who would grow to be like other men.

  When he did not speak, Maria said, “Maybe I should go to New Mexico. I have relatives there.”

  “Please, don’t,” he said.

  “I don’t have much of a choice.”

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll do it and get it over with.” She turned around and faced the street. “When?” she asked.

  For one horrible, unforgettable moment he wanted to push her through the storefront window. He quickly pulled her to him. “Right away,” he said. “I’ll get the papers, I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

  She took his hand in both of hers and laid it against her face.

  Ginny and Mrs. Lister returned to lower Nevada Avenue and sat at the same table, next to the jukebox, whose internal workings were exposed to the examination of a repairman. A man was sweeping the floor, another was wiping down the bar. Helpers.

  Juan Barrajas came out of the kitchen and walked to their table. Ginny tilted her head in the direction of the helpers. Juan nodded, affirmatively. Ginny rose and walked toward the bar, leaving Mrs. Lister at the table. Juan said to the helpers, “This is the cop’s mother, who wanted to talk to you.”

  Rudy Montalvo leaned his broom against the wall. Danny Yanez came from behind the bar. Ginny tried to choose the dominant one, and thought it might be Montalvo because of his fresh good looks. The other was ugly. She threw an arm around each of them.

  “Muchachos!” she said, leading them to stools. “Señor Barrajas, I want to buy these two boys a drink.”

  “I’ll have a Pepsi,” said Montalvo.

  “Me too,” said Danny Yanez.

  “Pepsi it is for my two young amigos. How old are you boys?”

  “Nineteen,” said Montalvo.

  “Twenty-six,” said Yanez.

  “Well, if you want my advice, get old quick. Youth is a curse.”

  Montalvo laughed politely and in two or three beats Yanez followed. Ginny guessed that Montalvo was the dominant one.

  Juan served them and retreated to his kitchen, the favor done. He sat next to the stove and tried to think of other things.

  Ginny sat at the bar, between the two helpers.

  “You two boys interested in making some good money?” she asked.

  “Juan said about a job,” said Rudy Montalvo.

  “You bet,” said Ginny cheerfully.

  “Your son is a cop, huh?”

  “Gordon Wynn.”

  “I heard about him.”

  “I’m his mother.”

  “I heard he ain’t too bad.”

  “What kind of job he want done?” asked Yanez.

  She made no effort to lower her voice or conceal their conversation. “Well, there’s this woman who tricked my son into marrying her. A real bitch with a bag full of tricks. I want to show you two amigos something.”

  From her purse she took a handful of check stubs and scattered them on the bar. Rudy Montalvo examined them like a junior accountant; Danny Yanez turned his barstool to watch the jukebox repairman at his work and called to him, “Give us a few free ones, huh, when you go.”

  “Sure,” said the repairman.

  “These are checks that my son Gordon wrote out to her,” said Ginny. “Payoffs.”

  “Sounds bad,” said Montalvo, as a journeyman mechanic might say into the hood cavity of an old automobile out of his province.

  “I’d like somebody to give her a good scare, know what I mean?”

  “Old Goose here,” said Montalvo, indicating Danny Yanez, “could scare the pants off the Pope.”

  Ginny grabbed Yanez by the back of the neck and shook him playfully. “Goose, huh?”

  Yanez smiled boyishly and Ginny saw in him a resemblance to Jerry Lewis. She mentioned it to him and he beamed and did a minute of his Jerry Lewis routine. Ginny laughed loudly. Rudy Montalvo, who had seen the routine many times, smiled indulgently and paternally.

  “Think that’ll scare your daughter-in-law?” asked Rudy.

  “Well, if I wanted her to die laughing, old Goose here could do the job. But it’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’d like her out of the way...like far out of the way.”

  “You want us to kidnap her?”

  There was nothing in his voice to indicate he was unwilling.

  “Amigo, I want you to kill her.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Montalvo.

  Danny Yanez seemed to be listening but he had a difficult time shifting his attention from the fascinating work of the jukebox repairman. With all those wires, how could he know which did what?

  “I’m the kind of woman who puts her cards on the table,” said Ginny.

  “This is good.”

  “Naturally, I expect you two boys to be as open and honest with me.”

  “You can trust us,” said Montalvo. “What I want to know is, does your son...is he in favor of this?”

  “Of course he is,” said Ginny, “and I don’t have to remind you he’s an officer of the law.”

  “How come he ain’t down here then?” asked Montalvo.

  “Good God, boy! He’s got a reputation to mind. If you were an officer, would you come down here to negotiate for yourself?”

  Rudy admitted that he probably would not.

  “Of course not.”

  Juan Barrajas took a cup of coffee to Mrs. Lister, who sat at her table alone, looking at Ginny and the two men, her lips moving slightly. He placed the coffee in front of her and whispered, “I think the boys will help her. Anyway, I did what she asked, didn’t I?”

  “Do you have a bathroom?” asked Mrs. Lister.

  At the bar, Montalvo lowered his head toward Ginny and said, “What’s the pay for this job?”

  “Well, what do you think it’s worth?”

  “This is the sort of thing that should cost a lot of money,” said Montalvo, as though wearing a white cap and giving her an estimate for painting a badly flaked porch. “Right away, we’d need some gloves and things, a weapon, a car...”

  “I have the car, I have everything you’ll need. I have...”

  “I don’t think we should use your car or anything, because we shouldn’t give anyone a chance to link us together.”

  “Good thinking! What do you think of your pal here, Goose, isn’t he smart?”

  “If he’s so smart, why ain’t he rich?” said Danny Yanez, believing he had delivered the
zinger of the week. He made a comic face and left the conversation to peer over the shoulder of the repairman. He could resist no longer.

  “Talking about rich...” said Montalvo.

  “Young fella, I am prepared to make you three thousand dollars richer by this job. Mucho dinero.”

  “Mrs. Wynn, that’s very nice, but you gotta remember that with a job like this, there’s a lot of risk.”

  Montalvo had an appealing baby face and now seemed to pout, having to bargain with the mother of a cop.

  “Well, you name a figure then.”

  “I think the job should be worth at least five thousand dollars.”

  “That’s a lot of money, an awful lot of money.” She thought about it. “But you’re a good boy. I believe I can trust you.”

  “We’ll keep up our end of the bargain,” he promised.

  “Okay, five thousand dollars, but I can’t pay it all at once.”

  “Oh, that’s all right, you can make payments.”

  “How about half when the job is done and half in three months?” asked Ginny.

  “That’s fine, only thing is we have to have a little now, to buy the things I said and everything. Like a hundred and a half, at least.”

  Ginny was hesitant to make a cash down payment. “Don’t worry, we’ll deliver on our end,” Montalvo reassured her.

  She had that morning closed her savings account, pawned the last of her wedding rings, found the $7 she had hidden in various places about the kitchen, and sneaked $3 out of Gordie’s wallet. Unless she overlooked a stray dollar or two on the bottom of her purse, the total came to $120.

  “What’s today?” said Rudy Montalvo. “Thursday? We’ll probably do it over the weekend, so we should need the money like today.”

  “You wait right here.”

  Ginny went back to join Mrs. Lister. She looked into her handbag and counted the bills she had put there that morning. “Damn,” she said. “Do you have any money, dearie?”

  “The bathroom is filthy,” whispered Mrs. Lister.

  “Yes, yes, do you have any money?” Ginny reached across the table and took her purse.

  The jukebox repairman gathered up his tools and left, making good on his promise to play a few free ones. An Anglo number with a heavy, hard beat began to play and Danny Yanez took the floor to do his famous Jerry Lewis dance imitation. Mrs. Lister covered her ears with her hands.

  Ginny walked back to the bar and said, “Would you settle for a hundred and twenty-five? I can probably get another twenty-five dollars tomorrow.”

  Montalvo took the cash and said, “That’s okay, just if you could give us half of what’s left when we finish the job.”

  “I have a secret account in Denver. I’ll wire and have it for you.”

  Montalvo gave a twenty-dollar bill to Danny Yanez and said, “We’re gonna do the job on the witch, Goose. Save enough of this to buy us some gloves.”

  Yanez folded the bill into a tiny square. He popped it into his mouth, pulled his ear, and pretended to swallow it, rolling his eyes as it went down.

  Ginny clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Boy, you should be on television!”

  “Someday I’m gonna be!” declared Danny Yanez.

  “All right, I think we better work out a plan,” said Montalvo, and the three of them moved their heads closer together, Danny Yanez trying hard to act serious, but unable to keep from smiling, no matter how hard and earnestly he nodded to whatever they said.

  “I think,” said Ginny, “you should get her good and doped up. I have hundreds of sleeping pills. Take her somewhere and get rid of her. But make sure you cover her face and her fingertips with acid, so if they find her they won’t be able to tell who she is. And don’t forget the teeth. They always use the teeth to identify ‘em. Get plenty of acid on the teeth.”

  “I say no to that,” said Yanez, placing his palms on the bar and straightening his back.

  Ginny expected him to follow with a gag. “It’s not right to mutilate a person’s face and his teeth,” he said.

  “Well, do what you think is right,” said Ginny.

  Danny nodded gravely to indicate loyalty to his personal ethics.

  “Where does she live?” asked Rudy.

  Ginny wrote the address on a slip of paper and gave it to him.

  “Okay, well, we’ll probably get around to it this weekend. We’ll call you when the job is done,” said Montalvo.

  “Look, I want to keep Gordon out of this as much as possible. You understand, don’t you? If he answers when you call, just say...say you’re Annie’s nephew and you’re calling for Annie.”

  Danny Yanez laughed at Annie.

  “Montalvo said, “Annie can be a code name with us.

  “Let’s make it Little Orphan Annie,” said Yanez, to honor one of his favorite comic book friends.

  Next door, in the Ponderosa Pines, Beef Buddusky was having a lunch of beer, beef jerky, and barbecue-flavored potato chips. He was reviewing his life, trying to find that point in his history when he felt the stirrings of love as strongly as he did now. There must have been another time when he regularly hung around some girl’s house, hoping to catch sight of her, hoping more that she would see him and the miracle occur, prepared to do anything for her.

  This new feeling had put a wedge between Mae and him, and he looked for some good excuse for walking out on her, in spite of knowing he would miss her when he left.

  He was surprised to see Ginny and Mrs. Lister pass in front of the hazy streaked window of the Pines. He ran outside to catch them. “Hey, what are you two doin’ down here?” he yelled behind them. Both women jerked around quickly as though caught in a crime. Ginny covered her heart with relief when she saw who it was.

  “You gave me such a fright,” she said.

  “You’re a little outa your territory, ain’tcha?”

  Ginny was too excited to keep it a secret. She jabbed Mrs. Lister, then shook her, laughing and saying, “I got two boys to do it!”

  “Do what?” asked Beef.

  “You know what,” said Mrs. Lister, trying to ward off Ginny’s playful slaps with her cane. “Ginny, you want me to walk alongside of you, you’ll have to act your age,” she scolded. “She just hired two Mexicans to do it,” she told Beef. “In that place there. You should see the bathroom.”

  Ginny started to pommel Beef, for the sheer joy of it. “I knew I could do it!” she cried.

  He pinned her arms to her sides.

  “Get this straight, you ain’t gonna do it. I ain’t gonna let you.”

  “Ha! Try and stop me.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

  “Behave yourself, Bomba, I could make a package deal with those two.”

  Beef released her arms. She stood there smiling brightly. It took him a moment to accept the knowledge that Ginny Mom, his best friend in life, had just threatened to kill him.

  “You and me are through,” he said, and he walked toward the Panama Club.

  She shouted after him, “Don’t kid yourself!”

  FIVE

  Beef went into the Panama Club. Juan Barrajas was alone behind the bar. “Where’s the two was just talking to Ginny Wynn?” he demanded.

  He backed up in terror. “Are you a cop?”

  “Shit, no, and it’s a good thing for you I ain’t. Where are they?”

  “Out the back door. I don’t know where they went. All did was introduce them.”

  Beef ran through the kitchen to the back door and looked up and down the deserted alley. Maybe the deal, like many others, was only in Ginny’s mind. The Mexicans probably agreed to nothing. Maybe they humored her and she believed them. But maybe, maybe they were on their way to do it. He would be there first.

  He waited for some time outside the apartment, unsure of his mission. Bewildered, really, as in a dream. Something told him that she would respond to the feelings that stirred him, she would, or else life and the world were badly arranged. He could no
t talk himself out of it. Finally he knocked.

  She opened the door, a look of recognition on her face. Before she could say anything, Beef said, “Maria, I know your husband Gordie.”

  She recognized him, Beef knew, and associated him with Ginny. The entrance to the apartment was a sliding glass door. She closed it to a two-inch opening. “My husband isn’t here now,” she said.

  “It’s you I have to talk to.”

  “But he’ll be home in a few minutes.”

  “Good, I might as well talk to him too. This thing is goin’ too far.”

  Uneasily and in silence, they looked through the door at each other.

  “What thing?” she asked at last, though the question was not necessary.

  “Ginny Mom. Your mother-in-law.”

  The words themselves, when now uttered, were synonymous with embarrassing problems involving poor mental health.

  “Something has to be done about her,” Beef added.

  Maria nodded in understanding. She slid open the door. “Would you like to come in?”

  Beauty responds to selflessness, his instincts told him. If he loved her in the proper way, she would put herself in his care.

  “Thanks,” he said, stepping inside. “Nice place.”

  “Can I get you something?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  “Buddusky’s my name. People call me Beef.”

  She sat on one of the two occasional chairs. Beef remained standing, self-conscious about what he hoped he could say. Why shouldn’t a guy say what’s on his mind? If he hadn’t come out and asked for it, would Mae have ever thrown it his way? But this was beyond fucking. This was a whole other thing, and there was no time to take with it.

  “You a Catholic?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

  “Me too.”

  “Aren’t you a close friend of Gordon’s mother?” she said.

  “I guess I am, but she sure is stretching it. The things she says about you...”

  “Sit down, please,” she said, “you’re making me nervous.”

  He sat on the sofa. “Like takin’ dope and running around...”

  “All lies.” She relaxed for a moment. The interview was becoming more comfortable for her. Perhaps she felt the presence of an ally, the best of allies, One who has come over from the other side.