Captains Outrageous cap-6

by Joe R. Lansdale

  “I tried,” Leonard said. “I can’t help myself. It’s like we’re Siamese twins or something.”

  “I don’t want you to do it,” John said.

  “I love you,” Leonard said. “But Hap’s family.”

  “What the hell am I?”

  “Family. But Hap and I had a relationship first. Do I chuck that out now just because I love you? What’s that say about me? About my feelings toward Hap?”

  “I don’t know, Leonard,” John said. “What does it say?”

  “It says I’ve got to take care of my brother. That’s what it says.”

  “But he isn’t your brother. If you haven’t noticed, he’s not as dark as you are.”

  “I don’t tan well,” I said.

  “Look, John,” Leonard said. “It hasn’t got a damn thing to do with genetics. It’s got to do with spirit.”

  “Spirit. That’s rich.”

  “I’m closer to Hap than I am my own kin. He’s done more for me than any relative. He’s been there when I needed him. He’s stood by me through thick and thin. I can’t just throw that out.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said. “But you know what? Things do have to change. You’ve talked about it more than once. We’re not getting any younger. It’s time we settled down. It’s time you settled down right now. Maybe,” and I looked at Brett, “when this is all over, I can do the same.”

  “I understand,” Brett said. “You do what you got to do, Hap.”

  “I don’t see how you can say that, Brett,” John said.

  “Hap’s done for me what no one would. I wanted something from him that was dangerous, and he did it without question… I fear for him, John. But I stand by him. I want to help too.”

  John sighed loudly. He got up and went to the bathroom.

  I said, “Leonard. I know you’ll do what it takes, my friend. But John, you don’t want to lose him. I’ve never seen you happier. And I’m a goddamn jinx.”

  “Yes you are,” Leonard said. “Shit, man. What a fucked-up thing. Charlie, he was all right.”

  John came out of the bathroom. He went over and sat on the couch. He said, “Leonard. I love you. I don’t want you to do this. I’m afraid you’ll be hurt. But… I love you no matter what. You do this thing, I’ll be waiting when you get back. But I can’t do it with you. I’m not like Brett. I can’t help. I can’t break the law. I can’t do anything like that. It just isn’t in me.”

  “I understand that,” Leonard said. “Never expected you to. I don’t like it either. But it’s got to happen.”

  “No it doesn’t. You could still tell the police.”

  “And we might,” I said. “I just want to look into it a little first. Find out what I can. It looks to be something I think the police can solve, or will solve, then I’ll tell them what I know.”

  “Why wouldn’t they solve it?” John said. “I don’t get it.”

  “First off, it’s personal,” I said. “I like to take care of my own problems. Especially when it involves some asshole trying to kill me. Second, Mexico didn’t solve their case. In the future, they may, or may not, figure out and punish whoever killed Beatrice. But I wouldn’t count on it. Mexico is known for its corruption. It’s become a lifestyle in Mexican government, especially the police force. How do I know whoever murdered Beatrice didn’t pay someone off? How do I know it wasn’t someone involved with the police to begin with? Hell, police officers tried to rob me and Leonard, and they cut Leonard. Hadn’t been for Beatrice’s old man, they would have killed us both.

  “And if this monster came here to kill me, thinks he has, has gone home, and I tell our cops, can they get him out of Mexico? It might require a lot more than they can manage. Extradition can be a bitch.”

  “Christ,” John said. “For the first time in my life I got a real relationship. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “You won’t,” Leonard said. “I’m indestructible.”

  “Yeah,” John said. “What about that knife wound?”

  “I had an off day. Hey, even monkeys fall out of trees.”

  “Leonard. Please don’t fall. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” Leonard said. “Hap will be my support line.”

  “Shit,” Brett said. “Let’s find the sonofabitch killed Charlie, cut his nuts off, and feed them to a German shepherd. Or better yet, one of those little bitty dogs without hair.”

  23

  Two days later we had Charlie’s funeral. It was a simple one. No church or preacher was involved. He wouldn’t have liked that. His body was cremated and services were held at a community center. It was packed. Friends. Relatives and cops. Mostly cops. Jake was among them. He said to me, “I got a feeling more and more that I don’t know all I know about this thing. Get me?”

  “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

  “Hap, don’t get caught. Whatever you’re doin’, don’t get caught. Whoever did this to Charlie, if you’re after the sonofabitch, I hope you succeed. But you break a law and I know about it, you know what I got to do.”

  “I do. But I don’t intend to break any laws. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jake said.

  One at a time, people got up and told things about Charlie. Stories. Incidents. Or just expressed their feelings. I was included. I said: “Charlie was a good friend. He died badly, but I know he died as bravely as is humanly possible. His killer will be found.”

  I didn’t go as far as to say how he would be found. That was still a card to play, and only Leonard, Brett, and John had seen it.

  Jim Bob Luke showed for the funeral. He got up and said a few words. Then Leonard.

  Hanson was last, and the best. He had known Charlie the longest, had worked with him closely when they were both on the police department.

  Hanson was in his motorized wheelchair. He rode it to a place beside the podium where everyone else had stood and talked. Charlie’s porkpie hat was in his lap. Hanson’s wife, Rachel, a striking black woman in a purple dress, took the microphone off the podium and gave it to him.

  Hanson held the microphone for a while, as if he might not actually speak. Then he said, “Charlie Blank was the friend everyone wanted, and if he was your friend, you were proud of it. He made you proud of yourself. Figured a guy like Charlie liked you, you had to be all right. He was a simple guy. Loved his friends. Was a wonderful cop. He loved the smell of a woman’s hair. Told me that many times. He liked dogs and hated cats. In many ways, he saved my life. He made me know it was worth living after my accident. He’s helped me with my physical therapy, and he listened to me whine about how life wasn’t worth living, and he convinced me it was worth living. I thank him for that. Right now, even with what happened to Charlie, I’m very convinced it’s worth living again.

  “He loved Wal-Mart. He was a nut for Wal-mart. And before Wal-Mart, Kmart. He was shattered when the Kmart folded. He was depressed for days, had a hard time shifting his loyalty to Wal-Mart, but when he did, he did it wholeheartedly.

  “He liked porkpie hats. In fact, I have his here. I’m going to start wearing it. I always wanted to anyway. I thought Charlie looked cool in it. I was too embarrassed to let him know. Instead, I made fun of him. From now on, I’ll wear his hat. He liked Hawaiian shirts. The gaudier the better. He liked tennis shoes and Dr. Scholl’s shoes, which he bought at Wal-Mart, and he wore a pair of one or the other every day of his life. He did jogging, played basketball, he had on those tennis shoes or Dr. Scholl’s. He went to a wedding or a funeral, he had them on. Me, Hap Collins, Leonard Pine, and God bless her, Brett Sawyer, all wore black, tie-up Dr. Scholl’s today in his honor. We love you, Charlie. We’ll never forget you.”

  Hanson put the porkpie on and Rachel wheeled him away.

  We had a small get-together at John’s house. Me and Brett. Leonard and John, of course. Hanson and Jim Bob. John fixed hot tea for all of us.

  Hanson said, “Well, what are we going to do about this?” />
  “You too?” I said.

  “Been thinking about things,” Hanson said.

  “I have plans,” I said. “Sort of.”

  “Then that means Leonard has plans too,” Hanson said.

  “That’s right,” Leonard said.

  “They won’t be very smart plans,” Jim Bob said. “No offense, but from my time with you guys, I’d say you’re as dogged as pit bulls, but about as smart as two slices of bologna rubbing together on dry bread.”

  “Thanks,” Leonard said. “Nothing like a good compliment. You’re lucky you got slack with me for saving Hap’s ass that time. Otherwise, a remark like that I’d have to see if you bounced.”

  Jim Bob grinned. “What you’d find is that I not only bounce. I bounce back.”

  “Ooooeeeeee,” Leonard said. “Now my nuts are suckin’ up. You are so scary.”

  “What I’m sayin’ is it’s what I do,” Jim Bob said. “Detecting. And making things happen. What you and Hap do is fuck things up.”

  “There’s a certain truth to that,” I said.

  “Motherfucker did this, is about as mean as a rattlesnake with a stick up its ass,” Jim Bob said. “And he’s big enough to pull a building down on us. What you need is someone like me knows how to sniff this shit out. You want him found, I’m your man.”

  “That’s true,” Hanson said. “Me and Charlie were going to pick Jim Bob’s brain to start our investigations business. He’s the best.”

  I thought he probably was, and so did Leonard. But there was some kind of macho shit between them, and Leonard wasn’t eager to give Jim Bob credit for much. Not and like it. I think it had something to do with Jim Bob saving me that time. Leonard may have thought that was his job and he slacked on me. Then again, maybe he was just disappointed he didn’t have it to hold over my head.

  “Hot tea, anyone?” John said.

  “Christ, enough with the tea, already,” Leonard said. “I’m floatin’ in the stuff.”

  “I’m nervous,” John said.

  “Plan I got is this,” Jim Bob said. “You folks set tight. I’ll make a little trip to Mexico. Do some investigating. I have a friend or two down there. They’re in the detecting business too. Mexican. Both of them. They know where all the bodies are buried. Maybe me and them can dig up the ones we need. In the meantime, might I suggest you folks stay close and stay ready. We don’t know for sure this behemoth has gone home. He may be waiting for another chance. He may know he didn’t get the right person. If we’re lucky, he went back to Mexico thinking he did what he needed to do. Or he may have just gone back anyway and plans to come back and finish the job. We’ll have to find out.”

  “Who says Mexico is his home?” Hanson said.

  “Wouldn’t it be?” Brett asked.

  “Hanson’s right,” Jim Bob said. “Assume nothing. That’s the first rule of good detecting. And always wear clean underwear in case you have a wreck. Mother told me that. I’ve tried to live by it.”

  “Have a bad enough wreck,” Brett said, “you can bet even clean underwear will fill up.”

  Jim Bob wrinkled his brows. “You know, I hadn’t even considered that.”

  24

  We stayed home and Jim Bob went to Mexico. During that time, we played it careful. Leonard decided to pack up his shotgun, vanilla cookies, John’s tea, and move John and Bob the armadillo back to his place for a while. It was out in the country and a little harder to find, and small, easier to protect. There was no certainty that he, or any of us, was in danger, of course, but it was a case of better safe than sorry.

  Brett and I hunkered down at her place. I escorted her to work and picked her up, still wearing my chicken plant uniform, my chicken plant revolver on my hip.

  Brett wore a little automatic hidden under her nurse uniform. It was in a holster fastened to her thigh. Certainly against hospital rules, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

  When she changed at night it was a ritual. She’d lift the hem of her dress and show me the little revolver in its white holster, which matched her white nurse uniform and white hose. Then she slid the dress up high enough to show me her panties. Off came the dress, the revolver, the hose, the panties. Finally she was wearing nothing but a smile and a thin fringe of red pubic hair growing back into place.

  Now and then, while wearing my chicken plant guard uniform, I’d insist I was the law and thought she ought to be strip-searched, and she’d let me. It was foolish and fun.

  We made love a lot during the two weeks Jim Bob was gone. Deep down maybe we figured things could go wrong. Thought we’d try to make up for all the love-making we might miss if one or both of us got killed. Something silly like that.

  Whatever, that part of the waiting wasn’t so bad. And I realized that I didn’t just love Brett, I was crazy in love with her. I had never met a woman who made me feel this way.

  I thought my first wife, Trudy, was the only one that would ever give me those feelings, but Brett, she was the best yet. She made me truly realize just how childish and puppylike my love for Trudy had been.

  At work Leonard and I found ourselves telling Charlie stories. Hadn’t been for Charlie, there were a few times when I wouldn’t have gone home at night, and now, in an odd way, it was my fault he was dead.

  I began to gather up guilt. Had I been where I was supposed to be it would have been me. It was supposed to be me.

  And then I’d feel something else.

  Shame. Shame because I was glad I hadn’t been home, that it hadn’t been me. It was a mix of noxious feelings that didn’t set well on the stomach.

  I told Leonard how I felt. He said what he’s said to me before. “Things don’t happen for a reason, Hap. They just happen. It’s got nothing to do with either you or Charlie deserving to die. The guy did this wanted you, you weren’t there. That’s good for you. Charlie was there. That’s bad for Charlie. It’s simplistic, but that’s all there is to it. Some idiot might say things happen for the best. And for you that would be true. But what about Charlie? Was that for his best? Of course not. Neither of you deserved that, but he got it. No rhyme. No reason. Just the way it came together. Once you start realizing it’s got nothing to do with deserving it, you’ll deal with it better.”

  “Would you have felt guilty had it been you?”

  Leonard was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah I would have. But not like you, brother. I’d have brooded on it for a day, told myself just what I told you, and I’d have moved on. I might have a bump in the night from time to time thinking about it, some wiggle in the back of my brain. But I’d put it in its place, and day by day it would grow smaller, and then it would just be what happened. I’d still love and miss Charlie, but I’d know it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Are you saying that just to make me feel better?”

  “A little. But I also mean what I say. You can’t carry everyone’s problems, every bad thing that happens to someone you know around on your back like a boulder. That boulder is going to get heavier and heavier, and finally, you won’t be able to bear it. You’ll go down before your time. My advice is feel guilty only about the things that happen to me because of our association and jettison the rest.”

  25

  After two weeks or so, in the middle of the night, on a weekend, mine and Brett’s nights off, the phone rang. Brett was so deep in sleep she didn’t hear it. I had become so accustomed to sleeping part of the day, I found it difficult to sleep at night on the weekends. Brett, on the other hand, would have shamed a hibernating bear.

  I rolled out of bed and went around on Brett’s side where the phone sat on a nightstand. I sat down on the bed and answered it, expecting it to be one of Brett’s worthless children with their tit in the wringer, their dick in a crack.

  It was Jim Bob.

  “Que pasa,” he said.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at a phone booth in the center of town. I called John’s place, but no answer. I called Hanson and he’s co
ming in. We thought we’d gather up at John’s place or Brett’s. That okay?”

  I thought about it a minute. I said, “Come over here. But don’t knock the house down, Brett’s asleep.”

  “Can you get in touch with Leonard?”

  “I can. I’ll have him meet us.”

  “Be there in a moment. And I got a little surprise for you.”

  “I didn’t know you knew my size. Is it revealing?”

  “Just in all the right places.”

  “Well, come on then.”

  I called Leonard’s place and he answered. I could hear country music in the background.

  “You having a hoedown?”

  “Me and John was dancing. He dances like someone sawed off about half his foot.”

  I told him what Jim Bob had said.

  “We’re on our way.”

  “Well, don’t let Bob drive.”

  “He’s grounded. Sonofabitch rooted around one of the blocks holds up the porch, made it collapse. No movies, dates, or giving him the car for a week.”

  Jim Bob arrived first. He knocked gently on the door and opened it. He said, “I really didn’t know your size, so I got you something else.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Jim Bob stepped aside and I saw Ferdinand standing there, wearing a simple white shirt and blue jeans. There was a scabbed scar on the right side of his face. He was leaning on a cane.

  “Well, I’ll be goddamned. Come on in.”

  Ferdinand came in, suddenly grabbed me and hugged me. He started to cry. “You must think me an awful man,” he said.

  I peeled him off of me and guided him to the couch. “I don’t think anything,” I said. Which was a partial lie. I had my opinions about Ferdinand. Some of them good, some not so good.

  “How did you find him?” I said.

  “Let’s wait until the others are here. I’d rather not tell it twice.”

  About fifteen minutes later Hanson arrived. He was wearing Charlie’s porkpie. I was surprised to see him using a walker.