Maximum Bob

17

“It was on the kitchen table,” Kathy said, watching Gary gnawing on a barbecued rib, his little fingers pointing out, the guy so neat. “But I don’t know if a shank is considered a weapon outside.” She watched Gary shake his head now, meaning he didn’t know either. “Elvin couldn’t have brought it with him, so I guess he made it, showing Dale how to do prison. What do you think?”

This time Gary nodded, sitting across from her in the booth with his suit coat off, cotton dress shirt soft and snowy white, an ad for Tide. Except he would never drip barbecue sauce on it to show how the detergent would get it out. He had asked where she wanted to go. She said she didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t dressy. He said how about Chuck’s Bar-B-Que Pit, his favorite place.

It was okay. They served pitchers of beer.

“Dale acts tough,” Kathy said, but he goes to FSP, he finds out he’s just another punk. I’m thinking maybe Elvin talked to him. You know, advised him, showed him how to make a shank… Dale says holy shit, man, he’d rather be a fugitive than try to hack DOC time. Or Elvin might’ve told him, you’re out, stay out. And he took off.”

Gary nodded, Mr. Agreeable today, picking up his napkin. “Who do you think he looks like in the movies?”

“Elvin or Dale?”

“Elvin.”

Kathy hesitated, then took a chance and said, “I don’t think he looks like anybody.”

“I don’t either,” Gary said. “Maybe some bit player. Elvin overacts, trying to be the bad guy.”

“But he is. What did you talk about when I was in the house?”

“I asked him if Dale had taken off, where he might be. Elvin said he didn’t know.”

“You believe him?”

“It doesn’t matter one way or the other. I can’t make him tell me if he doesn’t want to.”

“He told you to get fucked-I thought you were going to hit him.”

“That was for your benefit. He wouldn’t have said it if it was just him and me.”

“You weren’t mad?”

“I might’ve been on the edge.”

“Why didn’t you pull your gun?”

“I didn’t have to.”

“I mean instead of grabbing him by the hair.”

“Why? I wasn’t going to shoot him.”

“But you took a chance, he’s a big guy.”

“You had him distracted.” Gary smiled saying it. “They teach you that finger hold at the Academy? Somebody your size, you ever have to get physical, I think you’d do better with a gun.”

“You sound like my brothers.”

“At least show it. That’s why Elvin and I got along, after. I had a gun and he didn’t. What can he do? Guy fresh out of prison, does he want to risk going back? He isn’t that dumb.”

“Yes, he is,” Kathy said. “He doesn’t think. You heard him say he’s working for a doctor in Ocean Ridge? It has to be the same one Michelle was talking about, in the office.”

“Michelle,” Gary said. “She the one stands real straight? Has the nice posture?”

“You mean the cute ass. She’s our Community Control officer,” Kathy said, “getting back to the doctor, Tomas Vasco in Ocean Ridge. It has to be Elvin’s Dr. Tommy.”

Gary was paying attention now. “That’s a familiar name, Vasco. What’d he do?”

“They had him on some kind of dope charge. He drew, I think, county time plus probation, Community Control on an anklet and had his license revoked, or suspended.”

She watched Gary gnaw a rib clean, wipe his mouth with a napkin, but miss a dab of barbecue sauce on his chin.

“There was a guy named Vasco arraigned on a homicide, or he was called as a key witness, about a year, year and a half ago. I’ll look it up. He’s wearing an anklet, huh?”

“Two years,” Kathy said, staring at the barbecue sauce on his chin. “I think he still has one to go.”

“If Elvin’s working for him… You allow that, offenders getting together?”

“Not if we think they’re up to something. You hear him say I can’t check on him if he might get fired? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That’s a special condition you have to get a judge to okay. Elvin’s the kind of guy thinks he knows everything and can beat the system. They’re always pretty dumb, those guys.”

Gary said, “It sounds like Dr. Tommy isn’t too bright either. Hires a convicted felon? If he knows who Elvin is.”

“Elvin would tell him, don’t worry,” Kathy said.

“Then the doctor would be risking a violation.”

“That’s right. So either he doesn’t care, or, for some reason, he thinks it’s worth it.”

She watched Gary giving it some thought, the dab of barbecue sauce still on his chin.

He said, “Maybe we should have a talk with Dr. Tommy. What do you think?”

She liked the way he was including her and said, “With or without a search warrant?”

That got a smile.

She touched a finger to her chin.

He raised the napkin and wiped his.

She said, “So I add the doctor to my caseload?”

It seemed to Elvin every time he came here Dr. Tommy acted different, showing more of himself or a different side to him. Showing everything today, Dr. Tommy coming out of his swimming pool bare naked. Looking up at the cocktail hour sky and slicking his hair back with both hands.

Some kind of black thing, like a little box, was taped to his ankle.

Just then the sound of Latin booger music came on loud and for a second Elvin thought the black thing on his ankle was a transistor radio. But no, the music was coming from the house.

Elvin, still back a ways on the lawn, watched Dr. Tommy stretch his arms out to the sides and begin to move in time to the music, doing a booger dance Elvin believed was called the mumbo. Now here was Hector coming from the patio in a little jockstrap type of bathing suit that showed the cheeks of his butt, the dink popping them side to side to the music and carrying what became a silky white robe, holding it open now as Dr. Tommy gave him a sexy look over his shoulder-Jesus Christ-and slipped into the robe.

Now there was a picture.

The two of them doing the mumbo back to the house, grinning and touching each other, the doc slapping Hector’s bare butt with the sash ends of his robe and Hector saying stop that or something in Spanish, acting more like a girl than ever.

Elvin could identify behavior under certain drugs even though he didn’t believe in them. Why go to all the trouble to buy that shit, have to deal with niggers mostly, when you could get all the beer and whiskey you wanted driving no more than two blocks in any direction? On the way here Elvin had stopped at a cocktail bar in Boynton Beach. He left Dale’s pickup outside for the guys in the Thunderbird to watch-the ones who’d followed him from home-slipped out the back way and rode a taxicab over here, having made plans for the future.

He found the two boogers in the kitchen:

Dr. Tommy on a stool, sitting at a high butcher table in the middle of the room, still moving his shoulders to the music as he rolled a joint. Hector was mumboing around a blender, pouring different things into it from bottles on the counter.

“I see I’m just in time,” Elvin said. “You girls having a little drinky?”

Dr. Tommy looked up but didn’t stop moving, too much into what he was doing or doped up to act surprised. He had the joint rolled and was wetting it in and out of his mouth. Hector had the blender going, holding his hand on it. Dr. Tommy said something in Spanish and Hector laughed, nodding his head, his hair in a greased ponytail today. Now Hector was talking in Spanish.

“You two’re cute,” Elvin said, “but impolite.” He saw Dr. Tommy smoking the joint now, sucking in on it. “What was it you said to him?”

“You come in, I said, ‘Ah, it’s the great shooter of windows.’” Dr. Tommy spoke in that strained voice of a weed smoker, holding his breath.

“That’s pretty funny,” Elvin said. “You think it was me the other night shot at the judge?”

No answer. Hector came over with creamy yellowish drinks in big wineglasses. He served Dr. Tommy first and toked off the joint before shoving a glass across the table toward Elvin, saying something in Spanish in that strained voice. Dr. Tommy seemed to get a kick out of it. Elvin heard his name in whatever was said. He stood at one side of the table, between the two boogers at opposite ends.

“He said something about me, huh?”

“Hector says if you ever want someone’s kitchen shot, you’re the one to hire.”

“Shit, he’s funnier’n you are. It wasn’t me, Doc. We better get that straight.”

Hector was talking again in a girlish way, moving his shoulders, Dr. Tommy grinning at him. Couple of dinks. Elvin picked up the glass and took a sip. He said, “Jesus,” and wiped his hand across his mouth. “What is this thing?”

“Banana daiquiri,” Dr. Tommy said. “You don’t like it?”

Hector was talking in Spanish again and laughing at whatever he said, this queer that put bananas in a drink, saying his name. Elvin thought of stepping over to smack him, but then had an idea he liked better and threw his banana drink in Hector’s face.

“Talk English in front of me. Hear?”

It stopped him moving his shoulders, all that creamy shit dripping from his face onto his hairless body. Elvin turned to Dr. Tommy. “You too. Talk English from now on.” He heard Hector’s stool scrape on the brick floor and looked to see him running out of the kitchen like a girl.

Dr. Tommy didn’t seem to mind. He drew on his weed and held the smoke in a long time before letting it out. He said, “Okay, it wasn’t you.”

“Listen,” Elvin said, “it not only wasn’t me, I almost got hit standing in the man’s house. You hear what I’m saying?” The doc’s eyes didn’t look too clear. “I was in there waiting on Gibbs to come in from the yard.”

“You were in his home?”

“I told you how I’d walk right up to him, didn’t I? Well, now he’s got police around him and I have to think of something else.”

Man, it was a job holding this guy’s attention. Now he was climbing off his stool, his robe coming open to show a bare leg, and Elvin said, “What’s that thing on your ankle, looks like a little radio?”

“It’s how they keep track of me.” Dr. Tommy was at the counter now putting more rum in his drink. “You never saw an anklet? You wear it, you can’t go no more than a hundred and fifty feet from your telephone. There’s a receiver in this thing and a box hooked to the telephone line, like you have with your cable TV.”

Elvin didn’t have cable TV or know what he was talking about, but said, “Yeah?”

“A computer calls my number every now and then and if I’m not in the house or close by, the computer doesn’t get a signal back and it lets them know.”

Elvin had heard of that. “You’re on probation? Shit, so am I.”

“Is that right?” Dr. Tommy was coming back to his stool. “I don’t think you told me that.”

“It don’t make any difference. They can’t check on me coming here.” He watched Dr. Tommy sip his drink, not saying anything. “Why don’t you take the goddamn thing off and set it by the phone?”

“You’d have to break it.” Dr. Tommy stuck his leg straight out. “You can, all it has is the strap holding it on. But there’s some kind of sensor in there, tells them if it isn’t on your leg.”

“You mean you can’t ever leave the house?”

“Only to go to Alcoholics Anonymous, twice a week.”

Shit, this was working out perfect. “Then you don’t need your car, do you?” Elvin told him why he couldn’t use Dale’s pickup with cops watching it. Then Dr. Tommy had to think about it, his mind fuzzed with weed, before he said, “You have my gun, now you want a car? There’s a difference. A gun doesn’t have a license plate on it.”

Elvin noticed Hector was back, standing at the counter now with one of those Cuban shirts on over his jockstrap, and his hands held together over his crotch. The booger music had finished playing. That was good to hear.

“I need a car for getting around in,” Elvin said, “as I track the judge, figure where I’m gonna hit him. Then when I’m set up I either swipe a car or use my brother’s truck. He don’t drive no more with one leg. He does, but ain’t suppose to. They took his license on account of he keeps running into things.”

Elvin got that booger stare before Dr. Tommy said, “You look different today.”

“I’m letting my beard grow.”

“Wants to look like a rogue,” the doctor said to Hector.

In English, so it was okay. “I’m thinking I may use dynamite. I know how. I shoot it sometimes I go fishing and I don’t have all day. My brother always has some.”

He had to wait then while Dr. Tommy relit his weed, took another drink and stared, trying to appear casual. He said after a minute, “Okay, you can have a Cadillac or a Lincoln. Hector likes the Jaguar to go to the store.”

His dead brother Roland had owned a Cadillac. It was Elvin’s choice without having to think about it. He said, “I might stay here too, since I know you have room.”

“Now you want to move in?”

“I’ll see, but I think I better while I’m working this out. Your probation officer comes by I’ll hide in the closet.”

He watched Dr. Tommy shrug inside his silky robe and give Hector a nod, the doc easy to deal with on his weed trip. So Elvin said, “I’ll need a couple hundred for expenses. So I won’t have to stick up a liquor store, your car sitting out front.”

The doc gave another shrug looking at Hector. Then had to say, “Give it to him,” when Hector didn’t move, still holding his hands by his crotch.

Something funny going on here. Elvin squinted at him. Dr. Tommy said some words in Spanish, his voice quiet, soothing, different than before. Hector slipped his hand under the Cuban shirt and drew a little bluesteel automatic from his jockstrap. Elvin said to him, “You little booger, you weren’t gonna shoot me with that, were you?”

“Hector worries about me,” Dr. Tommy said. “It’s all right. He won’t shoot you unless I tell him. He’s a very good boy. Aren’t you, Hector?” Hector turned his head to look away. Like a girl. Like he wasn’t ever going to speak to the doctor again.

These guys were creepy. Elvin took his expense money and the Cadillac and went back to West Palm to get laid.

“I was going to kill him,” Hector said in Spanish. “Shoot him at least several times and make up a story for the police.”

Dr. Tommy listened to this thinking, Not again, please. He said to Hector, “Don’t worry about it.”

“He has your car, your gun-don’t worry about it?”

“What gun?” Dr. Tommy said. “I don’t own any guns. Listen, he could be lucky and do it. You know why? Because he’s a fool. He doesn’t see what could stop him.”

“But this was something you thought about, when, a year ago. Now you’re thinking about it again?”

“I wasn’t, until I saw that in the paper, the judge and the alligator. See, I’m beginning to entertain the possibility again and this one walks in, a convict, tells me yes, of course, he’ll be happy to do it.”

“Like Saint Anthony answering your prayer,” Hector said, in a better mood now. “But what if he’s arrested?”

“If he is, or the time comes I can’t bear the sight of him, I report my car stolen.”

Hector came over with the blender and began filling their glasses. “I wanted so much to shoot him.”

“I know you did. Listen, it could still happen.”

“But if he does kill the judge, will you pay him?”

Dr. Tommy picked up his glass. “Are you serious?”

They were having coffee now and wondering what to do this evening. No more talk about work. Go to a movie, a bar, listen to a band. Gary asked if she liked to dance. They could go to the Banana Boat. Kathy said she’d have to go home and change. She said the only trouble with the Banana Boat, sometimes she ran into probationers and they always wanted to buy her drinks. Or they’d bother her till she’d finally have to leave. Gary said, “Oh?” stirring his coffee. “You go there alone much?”

She said, “If you want to know do I go there to get picked up, ask me. Don’t be afraid.” He used milk and sugar and stirred his coffee forever.

“Do you?”

“No, I don’t. I go with friends. You want to drive by Dr. Tommy’s house, see what it looks like?”

“Tomorrow. I’d like to check on him first.”

She thought of Elvin hanging out at a million-dollar home on the ocean. It was hard to imagine. She could see him in Dale’s house, no problem, among the longnecks and pizza cartons. Pizza from Pisa, with the drawing of the Leaning Tower. The same kind she saw in the judge’s kitchen, after…

“We could go to my place,” Gary said. “Talk, listen to music. I’m down in Boynton, right off Hypoluxo.”

Kathy raised her eyebrows as if to say, oh, that’s an idea. Talk and listen to music. Uh-huh. She said, “Well, okay,” not wanting to sound too anxious. “Drop me at the office to get my car, I’ll follow you.”

“Or I can drive you back later.”

She didn’t like that idea. “I only live about five miles from you, in Delray. You want to drive all the way up here, and then we both have to drive all the way back?”

He was stirring his coffee again. “I don’t see a problem. It’s not that far.”

“I’d have to leave my car on the street all night.”

They were looking at each other across the table as she realized what she said.

“I mean, you know, it might be late.”

He wasn’t stirring now. He said, “We can get your car whenever you want.”