Dawn Patrol

76

First words out of Tammy's mouth?

“I want to talk to Teddy.”

“Your boyfriend is a pedophile,” Boone says. He tells her about what he saw at the motel up near the strawberry fields. Her face doesn't register any of the possible reactions-shock, anger, indignation, disgust, betrayal…

“I want to talk to Teddy,” she says. “I need to talk to Teddy.”

Boone sighs and runs it down for her. First, they don't know where Teddy is. Second, Teddy already gave her up once; if she calls him now, he'll give her up again. Third, at least for a little while, Dan and the rest of the world have good reason to believe that she's dead, and if she talks to Teddy, they'll have good reason to believe she's alive and try to do something about it.

She's real impressed by the argument. “Where's my phone?”

“Soaked in cold salt water,” Boone says. “I don't think you're going to get a lot of bars.”

“Let me use yours.”

“I was in the water beside you.”

“You don't have a phone in your house?” she asks.

“No.”

“What if people want to get hold of you?”

“That's why I don't have a phone in my house,” Boone says. He doesn't tell her about the three other cellies he has in a kitchen drawer. He's blown away. The woman hasn't said one word or asked one question about her friend Angela, who took her rap for her. All she cares about is a slick boob butcher who likes to do little migrant girls. A guy who gave her up in a heartbeat to save his own worthless ass.

Nice.

“Do you think he's all right?” she asks.

“Couldn't care less.”

“I want to see him.”

“You're not going anywhere.”

“You can't keep me here against my will,” she says.

He's had it. “That's true. Go out there, Tammy. Go find Dr. Short Eyes, see what happens. But don't expect me to come to your funeral.”

“Fuck you,” Tammy says. “I'm a payday to you, that's all. You need me alive so you can pick up your check. It doesn't give you the right to moral judgments, cowboy.”

“You're right.”

“And I don't need you to tell me that,” Tammy says. “I know what you think of me. I'm a stripper-a dumb piece of meat. Either I have a drug problem or I'm fucked up because my daddy didn't pay me enough attention, or else I'm just too lazy to get a real job. I'm a skank. But it doesn't stop you from coming in with your dollar bills, does it?”

True, Boone thinks. And it doesn't stop me wanting to keep you alive. Or is it that I just need to deliver you to the courtroom?

“Stay away from the windows,” Boone says. “Keep your head down. In fact, you might be better off in the bedroom.”

“You think you're the first guy to tell me that?” she asks, eyes hard as emeralds.

“I'll make you a deal,” Boone says. “I don't judge you and you don't judge you.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yeah.”

She sneers. “What would you know about it, surfer dude?”

“You don't have a monopoly on regrets, Tammy.”

Boone can feel the ocean swell, literally under his feet. The waves push against the pilings, wash through, and then pull on their way out. The big swell is coming, and when it goes out again, it will take with it the life he knew. He can feel it, and it scares the hell out of him. He wants to hold on, but he knows there's no holding on against the sea.

When a tsunami comes in, it hits with incredibly destructive force, crushing lives and homes. But it's almost worse when it recedes, dragging lives out into the endless sea that is the irredeemable past.