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More Better Deals Page 6

by Joe R. Lansdale


  “Why did he hit you?”

  “Doesn’t need a reason, but this time it was the Cadillac.”

  “Because I took it back?”

  “Yeah, that. For God’s sake, quit being dense.”

  Her demeanor had changed. I felt like an employee about to get the boot.

  “He doesn’t need a missing Cadillac to hit me, though. All he needs is for him to be him.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t know if you do.”

  I did, but I was playing dumb. Right then, I knew I needed to leave and not come back, but I sat there as if I were made of lead.

  “You like me, right?” she asked.

  “I think I just proved that.”

  “That’s one thing, but then there’s the other.”

  “The like part?”

  “I was thinking the love part.”

  “Is that where we are?”

  “I’m thinking we could get there.”

  “Except you’re married.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  “Okay, get unmarried, you don’t want to stay with him. Get unmarried, and you and me can see how things play out.”

  She shook her head. “Listen to me, Ed. I can tell a lot about a man pretty quick.”

  I didn’t doubt that.

  “I think you’re a man that likes fucking me and I think you’re a man wants to move up in life.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “What I’m thinking, we could both do all right by each other. I wasn’t married to Frank, you and me could run this drive-in together, the cemetery, branch out into other businesses. I mean, hell, you could own your own car lot.”

  “I don’t know I want to keep selling cars.”

  “Goddamn it, Ed. Are you listening?”

  “I think so. I mean, I hear you.”

  “No. You don’t. You won’t sell cars, you’ll have someone sell them for you, and the drive-in, it’s a good nest egg, even the pet cemetery is. People pay some pretty silly money for us to mound up some dirt and throw their mutts in the woods. What we could have, Frank wasn’t taking it all to drink and whore on the road, we could use to open a car lot, and you could hire people to sell cars for you. That would be three businesses. This drive-in business. I don’t see an end to it. People got to drive cars, and there’s a few people want to bury their pets for silly money. I think we could be rich, all of it was handled right, and it isn’t.”

  “We still got that whole you’re-married problem.”

  “I’m coming to that. You see, something happens to Frank, I got a nice insurance policy, and I got a will made up, and I can sign his name really well, and I know a notary I can show it to, say, ‘Oh, Frank forgot to file this, wrote it up himself, signed it, but didn’t notarize it, can you do that?’ I think he will, I smile right.”

  “I think he will too,” I said. “Let me make a guess. That insurance policy and, obviously, the will, he’s got to be dead for that. He sick?”

  “Far from it.”

  “I figured that.”

  “Shit, Ed. You know what I’m saying.”

  “I know what you’re saying, all right, and I’m not getting into that.”

  “You were in the war, weren’t you?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Because it’s likely. You kill anybody?”

  “From afar, and because they were trying to kill me.” That wasn’t entirely true. It hadn’t all been from afar, but I didn’t want to get into that.

  “Frank keeps on, one day he’ll kill me. Last time he was in, he hit me hard enough in the kidney I was pissing blood for a week. Eventually, he’ll do me in.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Honky-tonk. He comes in, hits me, fucks me, has a sandwich and a beer, then goes out to the tonks. He comes in next morning smelling of perfume and pussy. Sometimes he takes me right then. I usually get a few more punches. He always thinks I’m cheating on him.”

  “You are.”

  “But with good reason. He was all right when I married him. Big, handsome guy and I thought he was going places, bought this drive-in, but after a bit, it kind of runs itself, and he’s taking the profit and leaving me home, going out on the road to fuck and drink and sell some encyclopedias. I told him, ‘Quit the door-to-door, let’s run these businesses right,’ but he’s not interested. He doesn’t sell World Book for the money. He takes the profit from this stuff, mostly. Salesman job gives him an excuse to hang with his buddies, chase whores. I know he’s sold some sets, but I’ve never seen a dime from it. He found out about the Cadillac being gone, he went over to Luther’s Motors and bought him a Ford, paid down on it with bill money. Now he’ll quit making the payments on that and put us in hotter water.”

  “Luther sells shittier cars than we do.”

  “I got no future with him, Ed.”

  “Let’s get back to that whole insurance-and-will part, quit beating around the bush and get that out of the way, because I’m not liking that. It smells like prison and my ass frying in the electric chair. That’s not much of a future for either one of us.”

  “If you get caught.”

  “Murderers always get caught.”

  “Except the ones get away with it. Think about it, Ed. We only know about the ones that get caught, ones that make a stupid mistake.”

  “Got a feeling we might end up in that pile.”

  “Listen. I want you. You want me. We can make that work if we get rid of Frank, and unlike him, you can run a business the way it’s supposed to be run. We’d have an empire in this town, a string of drive-ins and car lots, good clothes, good cars, lots of spending money.”

  “It’s a string of drive-ins now, multiple car lots. You got it all worked out, don’t you?”

  “Well, I don’t quite have how Frank dies worked out, but I’ve got some ideas that just need fine-tuning.”

  “Well, I’ve enjoyed seeing you with your panties off, and I’m feeling pretty refreshed, but this other business, I don’t want anything to do with that.”

  About then there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Nancy said.

  It was the guy from the ticket stand. Looking at him standing in the doorway, I could see he was pretty good-sized.

  He studied us for a moment.

  “What is it, Walter?”

  “I think we got a lull in the tickets, show’s going on and all. I put the chain up, thought I’d grab a hot dog and such.”

  “Sure.”

  “All right.” But he didn’t move away from the doorway. “Anything I can do for you before I take my break?”

  “I don’t think so. Pardon my manners. Walter, this is Ed Edwards. Ed, this is Walter Wood, a cousin of mine. He works for me.”

  “We met,” I said.

  “Of course. All right, Walter. Take your break.”

  He moved away from the doorway, into the concession area. He left the door open.

  “Think on it some,” she said.

  “I already have, and I already don’t like it.”

  I got up and didn’t look at her. I didn’t say anything. I left out of there and walked to the car feeling like I had dodged one hell of a large and powerful bullet. I was afraid if I turned and looked at her, saw her face, I might not make the effort to dodge.

  (20)

  A few days went by, and then late at night, I was awakened by the phone ringing. I rolled out of bed, sleepy and pissed, and answered it.

  “Ed. It’s Nancy.”

  “I thought me and you were done.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yeah, but I thought what you asked me did it in.”

  “Frank beat me up. I’m at a phone booth. He beat me up pretty bad, and when he was asleep, I slipped off. I took my car. I didn’t know where I was going, just driving, but then it broke down. I’m at a closed filling station. I can’t get the car started, and I’m out here alone. It’s not a good spot.”

  “R
elax. Call a wrecker service.”

  “I’m calling you.”

  “And I’m telling you to call a wrecker service.”

  “I don’t have money for it. Frank has all the money. I mean, I got a few dollars.”

  “Call a taxi.”

  “Goddamn it, Ed, really.”

  “Shit. Where exactly are you?”

  I got dressed and drove out to where she was. It was a filling station off the main highway. It was dark except for some lights around the doorway, a dim one behind the plate-glass window, and some lights on the gas pumps. She was standing by the phone booth at the corner of the station. Her car was parked nearby.

  I got out and she walked over to me. “It just quit.”

  I took her key and tried to start it. It wouldn’t start. I looked under the hood. The radiator was steaming.

  I put the hood down.

  “You get in and guide the wheel,” I said. “I’m going to push it over to the water hose.”

  The water hose was between the two pumps, and she got in behind the wheel and put it in neutral, and I pushed it. I damn near ruptured myself until I got it rolling and then it was easy.

  When she parked, I opened the hood again, and, using a rag I had from the Cadillac, I screwed the lid off the radiator and jumped back when it spit a gusher of hot water and steam filled the air.

  The night was clear, but the steam was thick, and Nancy came from the side of the car, walking through the steam that had fanned out in all directions.

  It was kind of eerie, seeing her come through that steam, and then she was beside me and the steam was turning clear.

  I sprayed the radiator with the hose to cool it down and then I ran water into it, put the lid on it. After a bit I saw the water leaking out of the radiator in a small stream.

  “We need to have it set a minute,” I said.

  “I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “It’s okay. You got a hole in the radiator. Let it cool, I got some stuff to pour in it. I’ve done it with a lot of used cars, always carry some with me. We can put more water in after that. It’ll get you to the house, and you can drive it around a while, but you need a new radiator.”

  She was near one of the gas pumps now, and I could see her face better, and it was a banged-up face, both eyes blacked. She had a small trickle of dried blood under her nose.

  “Damn. He did a number on you.”

  “I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “Why’d he do it?”

  “He wanted sex and I didn’t want to give it to him. He got sex, and I got this.”

  Thinking about her husband raping her made my skin crawl.

  “I’m afraid he’s going to kill me, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t have money. I don’t have anything.”

  We went over and sat in my Cadillac.

  We didn’t say anything for a long time. She scooted over and leaned on me and I put my arm around her.

  She smelled like sweat and blood, a dash of sweet perfume.

  “Jesus, Ed. I would be so grateful.”

  Nancy said that out of the blue, but I knew what she was talking about.

  “I can’t keep going through this. This time I hurt all over, and he wasn’t trying to avoid my face. I think he’s working himself up. He drinks so much, he’s crazy half the time. Next time, he just might kill me.”

  I was surprised that I answered right away.

  “Not if we kill him first.”

  (21)

  I got her car going, had her drive it to my place, told her to park down the block from the address I gave her.

  She parked on the street and I pulled up beside her. She got in the Caddy, carrying her purse, and I drove us down the block, parked, and we hustled inside my apartment.

  When I turned on the light, Nancy looked around. “It’s neater than I expected.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Most bachelors are pretty messy.”

  “I don’t have a lot to make a mess with. You want a drink?”

  “I could use it.”

  “First, let’s go in the bathroom and wash up your face.”

  I used a hand towel with a bit of warm water on it to clean away the blood under her nose and at the corner of her mouth. I gave her a towel, and she took a hot shower.

  Wearing the towel, she joined me in the kitchen. I gave her a couple aspirin with a glass of water and then I broke the ice out of the refrigerator freezer, poured most of it into a dish towel, bunched the towel around the cubes, and gave it to her to press against her eyes.

  I said, “You’ll have to take turns. Five minutes on one, five minutes on the other, rotate until the ice melts.”

  She started with the left eye.

  I dropped a couple of spare cubes in some small glasses and poured us some whiskey. I didn’t water it down. The cubes would do that well enough.

  We sat at the kitchen table, her holding the ice-filled towel to her eye with one hand, the whiskey with the other.

  I sipped mine, said, “What’s he going to do, he wakes up and finds you gone?”

  “Probably more of what he just did. Couple times before, I ran off for a day or so, and it wasn’t even this bad. I’m starting to get sore all over. He hit me a good one in the kidney. I figure I’ll be pissing blood again. He caught me one in the chest, on my left tit, and I felt like my heart skipped a beat. I actually quit breathing for a moment. A lung seized up.”

  “So now you’re a doctor.”

  “No, I’m experienced with pain. I just won’t go back for a while.”

  “You can stay here tonight.”

  “I appreciate that. What you said—”

  “I might have been hasty when I said it.”

  “Don’t crawfish on me.”

  “Killing someone, that’s a big thing, and it’s a heavy burden. In Korea I killed some people who were trying to kill me. I did what I had to do, but this, I don’t have to do it.”

  “So you’re saying now you won’t do it?”

  “What I’m saying, Nancy, is we can’t go about this half-assed. We got to have a plan that makes it look like an accident.”

  “Then you have thought about it.”

  “Yeah. I have thought about it, but I don’t have it worked out, not the nitty-gritty of it. Just the big picture, but we got to have the big and the small, we’re going to do this.”

  “It would change my life.”

  “It would change both of our lives, but I’m not sure for the better.”

  “Then why consider it?”

  I was wondering that myself, but I knew the answer. I wanted the woman and I wanted the businesses, and mostly I wanted a shot to do well, better than my father did, better than my brother, and better than my mother would expect. I wanted a white man’s shot.

  I had been thinking about what Nancy said about an empire. We could have kids. We could have a good life. And what was Frank anyway but a wifebeater? A drunk and an asshole blowing the money from the businesses, businesses me and Nancy could run a lot better.

  Not everyone deserved to live. Some people pave a short path to hell, and I had decided Frank was one of them.

  (22)

  We tried to make love, but she was too sore to enjoy it, so we had to give up. She lay in the crook of my arm and we watched the ceiling fan overhead beat around in a circle.

  “What I’m thinking,” I said, “is Frank has a little accident.”

  “What kind of accident?”

  “I’ve been running that around in my mind, and I thought first it might be something electrical or an accidental fire in the home, but then again, that would burn up your home.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like that idea.”

  “Me either. Electricity, that’s tricky. I think what we got to do is have him have a car wreck, have that kill him.”

  “You going to ask him to drive his car off a cliff?”

  “I think I might have to persuade him a little. I thought about it a lot,
but the thing is, you’d have to put up with him a little bit, and we’d really have to play it cool for a while.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Does Frank fish? I saw a little motorboat in the garage, so I thought he might.”

  “Now and again.”

  “Does he have a rod and reel?”

  “In the barn where we park the cars. Behind the boat.”

  “Okay, so what I’m thinking is—you know Mason Creek?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a big creek well down in the woods but not so well down in the woods someone won’t come along in time and see him. There’s a wooden bridge over it, and the rails look like the only thing holding them together is termites. I’m thinking, he goes to fish, maybe he’s drunk as a high-school reunion, and he loses control of the car, goes through the rails and into the water. Creek is deep there under the bridge. I fished there a couple times. Only thing wrong with it is, I kept catching fish. I hate cleaning them.”

  “How do we get him out there? How do we get him to go through the rails, and who says that will kill him? Hell, he can swim like a fish.”

  “Dead fish don’t swim. You see, we might have to help him a little before he goes out there. How long is he going to be home?”

  “A while, but he’ll mostly be at the tonks come night. Then the rest of his agenda is come home, beat and fuck me, and go to sleep. At some point, he hits the road again.”

  “Save up his beer cans, liquor bottles, what have you, pack them away somewhere. We need a bunch.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I plan to put a lot of them in his car so when he goes through the railing, it looks like he’s drunk enough to do that. In fact, you got to get him drunk.”

  “Like I said, he comes home drunk. He doesn’t need my help. I like it when he’s real drunk ’cause he can’t hit too hard, and after he hits me awhile, he falls to sleep and I don’t get fucked. Or raped is more like it.”

  She started crying a little.

  “It’s all right, baby. It’s all falling into place. We’re going to fix that bastard up, collect that insurance money, then you and me, we’re going to shoot for the stars.”

 

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