Crime Machine

21

THE CRIMINAL WHO CALLED HIMSELF Papa had locked Lloyd Kreeger back in his master bedroom, having removed anything that might be construed as a sharp object. That, at least, was a positive development. Lloyd’s hands were still cuffed together in front of him, but this didn’t restrict him too much. He had a comfortable bed and lots to read, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Henry. Even Charles Dickens couldn’t stop him from picturing the worst.

He was trying to decide if there was any hope to his situation, or if he should risk escape and a bullet in the head, when this “Papa” came and got him and led him once more to the basement office. This strange man now knew some of Lloyd’s passwords, and had made notes of different account numbers. They sat beside each other now on two office chairs, as if one were teaching the other about software.

“Look what I found, Lloyd.”

Lloyd leaned forward to peer at the screen. His New York investment accounts. “A discount brokerage site,” he said.

“I know what it is, Lloyd. My point is, you didn’t tell me you had these accounts. Add up these different funds, we’re looking at a couple of hundred thousand U.S.”

“I forgot I had them. Those were set up must be thirty years ago, back when I was working in New York. I never touch them.”

“I know. I checked your transaction history. But you didn’t tell me about them. That’s my point.”

“I never think about them.”

“They send you statements once a month. Which you file away in those neat blue binders I found. You’re keeping things from me, Lloyd. You’re chiselling me. I try to help you out, I put you back in your room, I make you as comfortable as possible …”

“You steal everything I have …”

The man’s eyes on him expressed nothing but mild disappointment. He turned back to the computer screen. “Well, we’re just going to have to empty these out, aren’t we.”

“Those are for my grandchildren. My daughter has three kids, and all three of them are going to be in university at the same time. She is a copy editor, her husband is a freelance journalist. I doubt if they make fifty grand a year between them. Those funds are to see their kids through college.”

“It’s not letting me move anything.”

“Well, I can’t help you, I haven’t touched those funds since they were set up. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

The man unholstered his sidearm, took aim at a lamp, and fired. The base of the lamp shattered, and Lloyd’s ears rang as if they were made of brass.

“Apply yourself to the problem,” the man told him. “I have every faith that, together, we can get past this.”

Sometimes it seemed to Nikki that this “family” was a real thing, and not just some make-believe game they were playing. Tonight was one of those times. Papa had asked the three of them—not ordered them, asked them—to refrain from turning on the television. He wanted them to light a fire, a big one, while he was downstairs with the old man, and he would join them a little later.

“And then what?” Jack had wanted to know.

“You keep your eyes on that fire and tell each other everything you see.”

Which, in Nikki’s opinion, had worked out great. Jack had built up a big fire, fat logs criss-crossed over each other, and the flames flapped and swayed and you could hear the hot air rushing up the chimney. The furniture was arranged at angles around the fireplace, as if it were a TV. Nikki had an armchair to herself on one side, Jack had the other, and Lemur was lying on the couch, propped up on one elbow. His face glowed orange in the firelight.

At first they just pointed out different shapes that shifted among the logs and flames. Lemur saw a hooded monk, Nikki saw a fat man on a bike, which made the other two guffaw, and Jack saw seven little dwarves, all carrying axes and saws over their shoulders. Nikki had seen that in a cartoon somewhere, but she didn’t mention it. They played this game for a time and even Jack, a world-class grouch, was smiling, teeth gleaming in the firelight. His shadow leapt and shuddered on the ceiling.

Then Lemur suggested they try to see their futures in the flames. “Try to imagine where you’ll be in ten years. What your situation will be. Who you’ll be with.”

“We’re gonna be in the north,” Jack said. “K-OS will be in effect. All the underclasses are gonna rise up and the rest of the world will try to crush them—they’re already trying to crush them. But this time the losers are gonna win—the blacks, the Aboriginals, the Muslims—because they’ve been down so long they don’t see no downside to fighting to the death and lopping heads off. That’s why we’re commandeering the Jeeps and the snowmobiles. Ten years from now, hundreds of members of this family from all across the continent will be hid out in the north—small communes, self-sustaining. Rest of the planet, K-OS reigns. North is going to be the best place to be, because blacks and Muslims obviously don’t care for cold and the rest of the planet’s gonna burn.”

“Is Papa from up north?” Nikki said. “Is that why he’s so crazy about it?”

“He was raised somewheres up north,” Jack said, “but that is not what this is about. Haven’t you heard about global warming? North’s gonna be the only place habitable.”

“That’s right,” Lemur said. “That’s how Papa sees it.”

“How Papa sees things got nothing to do with it. It’s the way things are.”

“Well, however it goes, I’m with this family to the end,” Lemur said. “But right now that’s not what I’m seeing in those flames. Well, maybe a little bit.” He pointed to part of an ashy log that had fallen away from the flames. “See, there’s my igloo right there.”

“Kinda hot for an igloo,” Nikki said.

“But all that heat in there? All that beauty? That’s coming from the loving home I’m going to put together with my wife.”

“Oh, sure,” Jack said. “That’s crystal clear.”

“I’m telling you, I can see her. She’s got long brown hair. Down to her shoulders. A little bit of curl to it. And when she smiles, she’s got those little curvy things either side of her mouth.”

“Dimples,” Nikki said.

“Is that what dimples are? Then she’s got dimples. She’s tall—at least as tall as me—and she’s got a nice figure. Not too full. She’s real smart, too. Smarter than me.”

“That is likely true,” Jack said.

“And she wears turtleneck sweaters and corduroy jeans that fit real nice. Because it’s cold up there. And she has a white coat with a fur hood and a sky-blue scarf. I’m telling you, I can see this girl. I can see her so clear. When we meet? I’m going to know who she is right off. And I’m gonna fall in love with her, because I’m already in love with her.”

“Aww,” Jack said. “That is truly beautiful.”

“It is,” Nikki said. “It really is, Lemur.”

Nikki was wishing she’d seen something like that. She’d forgotten about that north business. Papa’s K-OS vision. It made sense to her, from what was on the news and all, but it didn’t stick in her head. Sometimes she thought Papa himself didn’t really believe it, that he believed something else entirely, which he kept to himself.

Lemur looked over at her, the whites of his eyes gleaming. “What do you see for yourself, Nikki?”

Nikki shrugged. “I guess I see music. I know I have a voice like a frog, but I hear songs in my head all the time. So I see, like, a studio of some kind. Do they have those up north where we’re going?”

Lemur sat up. “If they don’t, we’ll build one. We’ll look it up on the Web, get some books on it.”

“It’d be like a combination music studio, like for recording, and a TV studio. So you could make the videos while you record the songs.”

“Oh, sure,” Jack said. “Those Eskimos are some fine singers. Famous for it. Have you ever heard the Eskimo Boys’ Choir?”

“We’ll have all sorts of family up there,” Lemur said. “Some of them’ll be singers for sure. Anyways, chaos is only gonna reign so long. Sooner or later the blacks and the Muslims and all the rest of the, like, downtrodden are gonna come to us to run things. They don’t have the experience with it—not with running a civilization like ours. They’re gonna need help, and they’re gonna come to us that know how it works.”

“Well, aren’t you Papa’s parrot.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jack. If you don’t believe it, why are you part of the family?”

“I just don’t see it word for word, note for note, one-hundred-percent-copycat-perfect in Papa’s exact words, is all. I still have a mind of my own, is what I’m saying.”

Lemur hunched himself up in a corner of the couch, eyes on the flames again. “Well, anyway. There’s no reason why Nikki can’t be producing records or videos ten years from now. Or managing some really cool band. Why not?”

Jack knelt in front of the fire and poked at it, clattering and bonging in the grate as he spoke. Sparks darted and swirled. “Getting back to your own personal vision quest there, Lemur. I’m interested in this girl you describe. This soulmate business. That sounds about as close to perfect as perfect gets.”

Sometimes when Jack spoke, it was as if some malign entity—cold, wet, shapeless—entered the room and sat watching. As if he had custody of some alien creature that fed on anger and tears. Jack’s tone was cheerful, but Nikki sensed that ugly little creature in the room with them. Watching. Drooling.

Lemur didn’t pick up on it. “I never put it into words before. Just sitting here watching the fire, it just seems so …”

“Real,” Jack said. Leather creaked as he got comfortable in his armchair again. “She have a name, this princess?”

“I don’t really care what her name might be. But if I was gonna guess, I’d say she looks like—I don’t know—maybe a Jennifer? Or a Melissa?”

“I’d have said you was far more likely to find yourself cuddling up with a girl named Jason, or Buck. Something like that.”

“Very funny.”

“Listen, Petunia, you ain’t the kind of ace ends up with any Melissa. Reason being, Melissas don’t come supplied with cocks. And you are a natural-born cocksucker if ever I saw one, and that’s the truth.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Lemur folded his arms across his chest. His face had gone all tight. “We don’t call each other names in this family.”

“No need to get all hissy about it. Your proclivities is your proclivities. I’m just pointing out what’s obvious to everyone except you—that you are a solid gold, one-hundred-percent certified faggot.”

“It’s Lemur’s future,” Nikki said. “He can imagine it any way he wants.”

“The world’s ugliest whore defends the world’s dumbest fudge packer. Christ, how’d I end up in this freak show? Tell you what, Lemur, I got the perfect line of work for you. We get up north? You learn yourself some carpentry and go straight into cabinet work. Building closets. ‘Cause you are locked up in a closet even Fort Knox got to envy.”

“Just shut your mouth,” Lemur said. “I’m not gay.”

“Is this the kind of family I’m living with?”

None of them had heard Papa come in. He stood looking at them, hands clasped behind his back the way he always stood, measuring them.

“We call each other names? Accuse each other? Tell each other to shut up?”

“Jack was giving Lemur a hard time,” Nikki said. “About being gay.”

“Is that a fact.”

“I was just suggesting he might want to stop lying to himself about it. Be a little more honest with hisself.”

“He was calling me a faggot,” Lemur said.

“And why is that upsetting, if you’re not one?” Papa said. “Or even if you are?”

“He’s punkin’ me. Same as if he spit on me.”

Papa came around the couch and stood with his back to the fire. “Well, people. I have to say, I’m disappointed.”

“Let’s not make a federal case out of it,” Jack said.

“No, not about a little name-calling—childish as that might be. What bothers me more, Jack—and all of you—and to be honest, it’s something that bugs me about myself sometimes—it’s just so conventional. So ordinary. The idea that a person who has sex with someone of their own gender is somehow worthy of ridicule. Are we born-again Christians in this family? Are we Scientologists?

“Being a member of this family is about being free. Free from the labels and conventions our dying society throws around for its convenience. Faggot. Terrorist. Communist. Liberal. Lunatic. It’s the same with all of them. They take the place of real thinking.” Papa tapped a forefinger to his temple. “This family thinks. It does not accept ready-made labels. I want us to be free of those conventions that tie the rest of the world in knots. We don’t accept the Pope’s idea of morality, or Rush Limbaugh’s, or Barack Obama’s. We make our own.

“All my life my intention has been to free myself, but I don’t want to be alone. I want my family with me. So right here and now, in this room, I’m going to defy convention. I’m going to have sex with Lemur right here in front of you. You think I’m a faggot, Jack?”

“No, I do not.”

“You think I’m a faggot, Nikki?”

“No.”

“Lemur?”

“No. But I’m not either, and I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“You want to be conventional the rest of your life? You want to hide what you might or might not want to do? I don’t think you do. I’m asking you to join me in this little exercise. Exercise makes you stronger. We’re going to break this taboo together, and we’ll both be stronger. You think I don’t feel resistance to it? I do. It’s an iron claw inside my chest, an iron band around my mind. I have no desire to have sex with a man. But I choose to not care.”

Nikki had seen a lot of things during her short career as a hooker, but she had never seen anything that shocked her more than Papa pulling off his sweater and undershirt right then and there in front of the fire. Removing his shoes and socks and taking off everything else right there in front of them.

He had a good body, however old he might be. Really in shape, with the skin still tight and the muscles ropy. His skin glowed before the fire.

“That’s one convention down,” he said. “Are you with me, Lemur?”

“What about modesty? You were saying just the other day how we—”

“Special circumstances. Are you going to take your clothes off, or am I gonna do it for you?”

“I don’t credit this,” Jack said. “This is outright outlandish.”

“Yes,” Papa said, “it is. Stand up, Lemur.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t either.” Papa took hold of Lemur’s wrist and pulled him up. “Not sexually. But as an exercise in freedom, I want nothing more. This is important, Lemur. And it takes guts. I think you’ve got the guts. I know you do. And I know you care about our freedoms. Take your sweater off.”

Lemur hesitated, and Papa took hold of the hem of his sweater and pulled it up over his head. Lemur made some noises of protest but didn’t struggle much. Papa started on his belt.

“Tell me this ain’t real,” Jack said.

“You think I’m a faggot?” Papa said.

“No, I don’t, but—”

“I refuse to be a slave. I choose freedom, and I want you people beside me. Take ’em off, Lemur. Don’t make me do all the work.”

Lemur took his jeans off. The two of them were naked, facing each other, about a foot apart.

“Two men do not get naked in front of each other,” Papa said. “That’s the rule in our society, right? Unless they’re on the same sports team, men do not get naked together. That’s the rule. And they certainly don’t touch each other, right? Not unless they’re faggots. Am I a faggot, Lemur?”

“No.”

“No, and you’re not either.” Papa took Lemur’s penis in his right hand. Lemur put his hands up on Papa’s biceps and leaned back. “Whoah, this is …”

“Am I a faggot, Jack?”

“Jesus.”

“Sounding pretty conventional there, Jack.”

Jack shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. Nikki couldn’t take her eyes off them. Papa got Lemur to sit back on the couch, legs stretched out before him. Papa took hold of his ankles and spread them out and then he knelt between Lemur’s legs and went at it. Nikki covered her face and watched between splayed fingers. Papa seemed like the ungayest person she had ever met, and seeing him going down on a guy was—well, she could feel the furniture of her mind trying to rearrange itself.

She had never thought before that two men having sex could be anything other than comic or disgusting, but now she felt her own body reacting to the two burnished males before her.

Papa didn’t ask Lemur to do anything. Lemur just lay back, silent through most of it, moaning toward the end, and gasping when he finally finished in Papa’s mouth. Then Papa held him in his mouth, unmoving, for some time after. Jack was staring straight into the fireplace now, but Nikki had caught him looking lots of times. He was acting all perturbed in how he was sitting and everything, but she could tell he was pretty turned on.

Papa stood up and started pulling on his clothes, taking his time about it. “Let’s agree on something,” he said, tightening his belt. “There are no faggots in this family. And if Lemur wants to have sex with a man, he is free to do so without any loss of respect around here.”

Lemur had curled up in the corner of the couch again. He clutched a wad of his clothes over his lap and Nikki could see he was nervous and ashamed and she felt bad for him. She tried to lighten the atmosphere a little.

“Is it just me,” she said, “or was that, like, major hot?”