Maximum Bob

23

All Elvin had to do was spot the blue-suit cop coming out of the building alone, he changed his mind like that about seeing Ms. Touchy. She’d be around the next five years to fool with. The blue-suit hair puller was here and now and chances didn’t come along every day.

Elvin had been sitting in the car with his hat off rubbing the red line it made in his forehead: thinking the two would come out together, it being noontime, and go eat someplace: thinking he’d most likely pick himself up a burger and fries, couple of beers, and come back here to wait on her to get dropped off.

But, Jesus, seeing the hair puller all by himself walking to his car, no idea he was being watched, got Elvin excited with the urge to get it done. Right now. No more thinking about it. The best time always when they least expected. Slip up on him in broad daylight driving along the street maybe. That could work. He had the Ruger Speed-Six in the glove compartment. Or wherever the dink was going, like someplace to have his dinner. Walk in, do it and walk out. Do it so fast nobody in there would see a thing. All this in his mind at once was making him more anxious. There, he was backing his car out now, the gray Dodge, from in front of the building. His name, he’d said that time at Dale’s showing his badge, was Gary something. Gary the hair puller.

Man, but strange things happened in life.

Thinking of this squirt grabbing him by the hair.

Thinking, as he followed the Dodge over to Dixie Highway and turned south, he had planned to get a haircut yesterday, but was too hung over to make it.

And where does the Dodge pull up to the curb and park? In front of a place called “Betty’s Hair Studio,” the name written big across the window.

Wouldn’t you know, Elvin thought, looking for a place to park, a hair puller would go to a beauty parlor?

The garage door was closed. That was the first thing Kathy noticed driving up to the house. It gave her a sinking feeling. She got out of her car telling herself it wasn’t locked, that all she’d have to do was grab the handle and lift up. She tried. Grabbed it with both hands and tried. Kicked the aluminum door and tried again. It was locked. Shit. Gary would ask her, well where is it? Gary with his new haircut. She caught a glimpse of him as a skinhead and got rid of that one. Saw him with the sides shaved Marine style and crew-cut on top saying to the crew-cut captain in the body shirt he was trying to live up to his expectations. With a straight face. He was actually a cool guy. He acted natural, didn’t pose or try to impress anyone. She should have cut his hair last night, in his under-shorts. Kathy stepped away from the garage to look at the front of the house, the door, sunlight on the windows. No one home, the place shut tight. She turned, wondering what to do, looking at the dense growth across the drive now, young palms and a lot of fern, and saw the car parked in tree shade.

A Ford Escort, dark blue, nosed into the cover of an old laurel oak.

The judge drove a pickup truck but could have a car too, whether he used it or not; it seemed reasonable. Unless it belonged to someone else, visiting.

Kathy walked to the front door and rang the bell, waited, tried it again. She could hear it ring inside.

The car could belong to a TAC guy still hanging around somewhere. They drove all different kinds of cars, whatever they appropriated. If a TAC guy was here she would have to tell him what she was looking for… Oh, a pizza box. Have to go into all that, explain her theory. Or make up a story. She lost an earring. In the garbage? Maybe swept up and thrown in the trash. And thought, You think too much. You know it?

But, if a TAC guy was still around and happened to be out in the yard, he wouldn’t have heard the doorbell. She walked back past the attached garage to the north end of the house, looking out at scrub growth and a line of Australian pines in the distance. The canal curved off in that direction toward the lake.

Kathy stopped.

She heard voices. Or thought she did.

Another few steps would take her around the corner to the screened porch and the backyard, the judge’s gardens, his orchids hanging in trees. She stood listening before moving again, from coarse grass to the edge of the brick patio in sunlight, looking at the screened porch now, dim inside. Kathy stood motionless.

In the silence a woman’s voice, coming from the porch, said, “I told them, I refuse to only work dry. Stand around being a hostess or have to do that awful bird show.”

Another voice, much higher, a child’s, said, “Wasn’ the reason atall.”

“It was too.”

“You lef’ account of your thighs lookin’ how they do. Be with those young girls and everybody see how chubby you is now? No, ma’am.”

“I am not chubby.”

“You is too.”

“I am not.”

There was a silence.

The woman’s voice said, “Is someone there?”

Kathy moved toward the screen door. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No, please, come in out of the sun.”

Kathy said, “Thank you,” opening the door and stepping inside.

The woman was alone on the porch.

Pretty in a kind of old-fashioned way, a pleasant smile. Blond hair to her shoulders with a small blue velvet bow to one side. She did appear chubby in her flowery print dress. Nice legs though in a dark shade of hose and white sensible shoes. She stood waiting for Kathy.

“I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“Oh, Wanda. Yes, she left.”

“You’re Mrs. Gibbs,” Kathy said.

“Leanne, please. And I bet I know why you’re here.”

They had porch furniture out here where you waited to get your hair done, a table of magazines, a counter full of hair products, and a white lattice fence separating this part of Betty’s Hair Studio from where they did the work.

Elvin stepped over to the fence and peeked through the crisscrossed slats. He saw four beauty parlor chairs in there, two on each side, mirrors on the walls behind them, everything the same turquoise color floor to ceiling and nobody in there. He no sooner straightened up he heard a woman talking.

Now when he looked through the fence again he saw the cop, Gary, coming out from the back with a turquoise cloth over him like a cape, his hair wet to his head and this woman leading him, a tiny woman with rouge on her cheeks. She had on a smock that same turquoise color and appeared to be Hispanic. She was. Elvin could hear her talking again as she got Gary in the beauty parlor chair and spun him to face the mirror.

Seeing him sitting there, the cloth draped over him, made Elvin think of a book Sonny had read to him up at Starke. Not the whole book, part of it. It was a western where this guy is getting his hair cut, the good guy, and the guy who’s supposed to be the bad guy comes in, he’s in a hurry, and tells the good guy to get out of the chair. The barber’s done with the guy, has slicked down his wavy hair, but now the fucker won’t move, acts like a girl and won’t get out of the goddamn chair. The guy in a hurry, Frank, has a rifle under his arm. The pissy good guy-Elvin couldn’t think of his name-you know doesn’t have his six-shooter on him, but Frank isn’t too sure. He doesn’t want to get shot by a gun hidden under that barber cloth.

Elvin stepped back from the latticework and squared his Ox Bow straw over his eyes thinking about that barbershop in the book. A real barbershop, not a beauty parlor. He touched his right-hand suit coat pocket where the Ruger Speed-Six rested heavy. Then unbuttoned the coat.

What happened in the book was Frank got so pissed off at the good guy he stepped up to yank him out of the chair and the guy hit Frank with this mirror he was holding the barber had given him to look at his haircut. Wouldn’t fight him like a man, hit him across the head with a mirror.

With the cop, if you got too close and weren’t minding, he’d pull your hair. There was no doubt in Elvin’s mind this cop had his gun on him. Except it was around on his hip and would be wedged down in there between him and the beauty parlor chair. Watch his right shoulder. If he lifted it he’d be going for the gun.

Elvin readjusted his hat, put it lower on his eyes. Now he brought the revolver out of the pocket and slipped it into the waist of his pants, a bit to the left side, and closed the suit coat over it. There. Ready?

He took another peek through the latticework. The beauty parlor woman was snipping away at the cop’s wet hair now.

Ready.

Elvin walked in. He saw the woman pause, holding her comb and scissors in the air. He saw the cop raise his head and saw his eyes in the mirror. Elvin said, “You do men in this place or just women and sissies?”

“I felt you in my energy field,” Leanne said to Kathy, “so I knew you were there. But it’s so bright out I didn’t see your aura good till you came inside.”

Kathy said, “You can see it?”

“Oh, my yes, it’s a soft blue. You’re acquainted with the judge-you should see his aura.”

“I think I have, almost.”

“You’d know if you did. Here, let’s sit down.” Leanne pulled a chair out from the metal table. “You came for a psychic reading, didn’t you? Not knowing I’ve moved. Well, I haven’t actually moved. I’ve left here but haven’t as yet relocated. There’ll be a notice in The Third Eye and some of the other papers when I do. I have to be going pretty soon, but sit down, please. I only stopped by to get something I forgot.”

Kathy took a chair next to her saying, “When you left here, you went up to Weeki Wachee?”

“I did,” Leanne said, “with the idea of picking up where I left off. But then after I thought about it a while I decided no, I have another life now.”

Kathy watched Leanne’s eyelids begin to flutter.

The other voice, the child’s, came out of her saying, “What you have is thighs shake when you walks.”

“They do not.”

The child’s voice said, “Try and zip up a mermaid tail, see how far you gets.”

“You hush up.”

Leanne closed her mouth, tight, Kathy watching. Now she closed her eyes for a moment, opened them and said, “Wanda’s been picking on me ever since I left Big.”

“You mind if I ask,” Kathy said, “how you do that?” Not sure what to call it.

“Communicate with my spirit guide? Oh, there’s different ways.” Leanne leaned toward Kathy, confiding now. “You can resonate by grounding yourself to the earth. See, that allows you to vibrate at a higher level, so you become a conduit for the other being. But now Wanda,” Leanne said, sitting back again, “she sneaks in on my energy level just about whenever she wants. I love her dearly, but she’s getting to be a pest. See, she’s upset ‘cause I left.”

Kathy said, “She wants you to stay here?” and saw the woman’s eyelids flutter.

“She ain’ finish her woik,” the child’s voice said.

Leanne’s eyes blinked. She said, “Now you stop that. When I want to hear from you I’ll get in touch.” Looking at Kathy again Leanne said, “Wanda gave me a time in the car, driving up to Weeki. Kept grabbing the steering wheel to turn us around. I don’t know why we didn’t have an accident.”

“There’s so much I’d like to ask you,” Kathy said, hunching over the table now. “You don’t mind?”

“It’s what I’m here on earth for,” Leanne said. “To answer those who ask.” Her eyes for an instant began to glaze and she straightened, hitting the table hard with the edge of her fist. “No! Now you stay put, darn it.”

Kathy waited a moment. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I won’t ask you anything personal.”

“I’ve spoken to thousands of people,” Leanne said. “My life is literally an open book.”

“Well, something I’ve always wondered about-when you’re performing underwater, how do you stay down? I mean keep from rising up.”

“Controlling your depth, a lot of it is in the breathing, something you have to learn. You don’t just put on a tail and you’re a mermaid.” Leanne cocked her head, her eyes shining with an inner wisdom. “When people from out of town ask how do you get to Weeki? A mermaid will always answer, ‘Practice.’”

“That’s good,” Kathy said. “Do you mind talking about the alligator?”

“Which one? The one here or at Weeki?”

“Both, I guess. The one at Weeki first.”

“You want the whole story? My out-of-body experience and what happened in the hospital after?”

“Everything,” Kathy said.

“Well, it began just after one in the afternoon of a gorgeous day.” Leanne’s gaze moved to the backyard. “I remember rising from the underwater chamber behind the screen of air bubbles we use as a curtain and seeing the surface of the spring, above me, shimmering in bright sunlight…”

As soon as Gary was in the chair she turned him around and he saw their faces close together in the mirror: Gary’s pale next to her bright glow of makeup, the woman coming on to him, running her hands over his shoulders as she studied his reflection. She was in her fifties, not bad looking, full of energy. Sang to him in Spanish shampooing his hair in the back room.

“I just want a trim.”

“Don’t worry, I take good care of you. Like last time.”

“I don’t think you’ve cut my hair.”

“I haven’t? Good-looking guy like you? I’m surprise. You sure you don’t have me before?”

“I’d remember you.”

She liked that. Getting her comb and scissors from the counter she gave him a wink.

“Are you Betty?”

“Of course. Who else? Maybe it was Helen you had. Helen quit. No, it must be it was Isabel. You like how she fix your hair?”

“Yeah, that’s why I came back.”

“It was Isabel. She isn’t come in yet, has trouble with her car. But listen, I can take care of you good, don’t worry. Put your head down.” She began working on him, humming, hitting her scissors against the comb in rhythm.

Gary raised his eyes to the mirror, saw his head sticking out of the turquoise cover, Betty lifting his wet hair and snipping with a flourish, moving her shoulders as she hummed. He thought of Kathy touching his hair and then saw her in bed in early morning light, her eyes coming open and for a moment or so not aware of him. Both times when they were together and she woke up, felt him close and there he was, she said, “What’re you doing?” A murmur, sleep still in her voice. He said, “I’m looking at you.” His head raised from the pillow. He was so close to her she said the first time, yesterday morning, “You must need glasses.” This morning she looked at him and didn’t say anything, waiting, and he said, “I love to look at you.” She said, “We’re moving right along, aren’t we?” with that quiet expression in her eyes, knowing things. She raised her hand to his face, touched his mouth with the tips of her fingers…

He saw the cowboy hat in the mirror.

Elvin saying, “You do men in this place or just women and sissies?” And Betty turning, saying to him, “We do everybody. Have a seat, mister. You next.”

Gary almost said his name, but now the hat was gone from the mirror. He waited and finally heard Elvin say, “Is that you, Officer?” And Betty say, “Oh, you know each other?” She swiveled the chair around and now Gary was facing him, Elvin saying, “I thought you were some woman getting a marcel,” as he eased into the chair across from Gary’s, filling it with his bright blue suit.

Gary said, “You getting a haircut?”

Elvin smoothed the front of his suit coat. “Yeah, and I’m in a hurry too.”

Betty said, “Isabel will be here soon. You wait, okay?”

“I never had nobody name Isabel cut my hair,” Elvin said, “or been in a beauty parlor.”

Then why did he come? Gary thought, Betty saying, “We do hair designs. This is no beauty parlor, no. But I can make you beautiful if you want, mister. Fix you up.”

“I wouldn’t mind being beautiful,” Elvin said, “if I don’t have to wait.”

“Isabel, she be here soon.”

“But I don’t want Isabel. I want you.”

“Sure, in a few minutes. It won’t be long.”

“I mean I want you right now,” Elvin said.

“The reason I came back,” Leanne said, “I left my rare and beautiful window crystal buried in the backyard.” She looked out that way. “See the two petticoat palms? They look like women, don’t they, in fancy dress. The crystal is buried between them.”

“In the ground?”

“To revitalize its energy. The earth, you know, has wonderful restorative powers. What a window crystal does,” Leanne said, “used for meditation, it allows you to look into your soul and see the real you. Not the one you see in the mirror, the one you’re pretending to be.”

Kathy said, “Oh.”

“It’s like using a crystal ball to see things about yourself aura-wise, you might say.”

“You can see into the future with it?”

“Some. Or you can use it to locate missing persons or help others see themselves. If I aimed a window crystal at you and then looked into it with my third eye, I’d get a pretty good idea of your inner self. Wanda was always after me to use it on Big.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t get him to even touch the crystal. Wanda says ‘cause he’s afraid of it, but that’s no reason I shouldn’t keep working on him.”

“Is that why she didn’t want to leave?”

“Partly. She likes it here, it reminds her of her home in Clinch County, Georgia. But mostly she thinks I should be able to save Big, change the way he is. Wanda says he’s gonna have an awful time on the other side if he doesn’t learn to open his heart. But try and get him to think about dying.”

“You might have better luck with him now,” Kathy said, “after what happened. You know he was shot at?”

“When I saw it in the paper,” Leanne said, “I wondered if it had changed him any. Would you say?”

Kathy thought about it and nodded. “He seems less sure of himself.”

“Aware of his mortality in this life?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Kathy said. “But I think you could get to him now, do him a world of good.” Kathy hesitated, then went straight ahead saying, “I mean if you could find it in your heart to stay here and be his wife again.” She took a breath and said, “Big needs you.”

Leanne was looking at her in a strange cockeyed sort of way, unfocused, like she was stoned. Maybe using her third eye, Kathy wasn’t sure.

“You were sent here,” Leanne said.

“Actually I came to look for something in the trash.”

It brought Leanne back. She said, “The trash was picked up this morning,” and seemed concerned. “Hauled away. Is this something valuable you lost? Maybe I can help you find it.”

Kathy eased back in the chair, quiet for a moment. She said, “Thanks anyway,” not wanting to get into it with Leanne. “It’s not that important.” And saw the woman giving her that strange look again, as if in some kind of trance.

Leanne said, “You were sent here. Did you want me to contact someone for you? A deceased relative?”

Kathy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You brought a message,” Leanne said, “instructing me to stay and help Big. I feel I should give you one in return. I believe I’m suppose to. Wait now. Wanda’s telling me about someone… Who?… She doesn’t know. It’s someone who passed over recently.”

Kathy said, “I don’t know of anyone.”

Leanne said, “Shhh,” glaring at her. Then stared cockeyed again or stoned and raised her hand. “Wait, this person hasn’t passed over.” She said, “What?” And said, “Oh, my Lord. He’s passing over right now, as I speak.”

Kathy saw her eyes squeeze closed and heard her little-girl voice say, “They’s two of ‘em, Leanne.”

This was good, the woman trying to take it as a joke, but not too sure now, getting nervous, saying, “I can’t leave this man sitting here, can I?”

“Why can’t you?”

“He’s here first, with an appointment. He’s a good customer.”

The cop was staring at him not saying a word, no doubt wondering what in the hell was going on. Was he being played with or what? Meantime the woman was working on him again, scissors clicking away, trying to get it done quick.

“I know who he is,” Elvin said. “I still want you to come over here and cut my hair. I want it cut real short too, so nobody can pull on it.”

The woman said, “If you can be patient for jus’ a few minutes,” in her Hispanic way of talking, and the cop’s left hand came out from under the cloth.

He raised it to her saying, “There’s no hurry. Take your time.”

Almost just like in that book. It made Elvin think of it again: Sonny reading, getting to the part where Frank starts to put his rifle on the guy to move him out of the chair and the guy tells him if he raises it another inch he’ll kill him. With what? Elvin knew he was bluffing. Why didn’t Frank? Sonny read some more, but Elvin had lost interest in Frank, knowing he’d be dead before the end of the book, so why read it. Instead of talking, letting himself get faked out, why didn’t he use the goddamn rifle? That was the difference between a book and real life. In a book, the one who was supposed to be the bad guy always got killed in the end.

Elvin pushed out of the chair and moved behind it to a washbasin and counter, glancing at himself in the mirror. He picked up a hair dryer that looked like a Buck Rogers gun and thought of smashing the mirror with it. He could see them watching. First ask the woman if she’s ready to cut his hair. She starts to argue, smash the mirror and then say, Now are you? And the cop would be out of that chair so fast… Best not to touch anything. Keep it simple. He moved toward the opening in the lattice fence saying over his shoulder, “Seeing you’re so busy, I’ll come back later. Have Isabel cut it.”

“Is okay with me,” the woman said, “you go someplace else.”

Let her think whatever she wanted.

Elvin walked through the room with the porch furniture to the front door, opened it and let it slam closed. There were all those things you wanted to do and couldn’t, and finally there was something you could if you had the nerve, if you quit thinking about it and did it. He moved back to the lattice fence not making a sound, the Speed-Six revolver in his hand now, peeked through the slats and -Jesus, the cop was pulling the cloth over his head, shoving it at the woman, about to push out of the chair-and Elvin had to step quick to the opening. He shot Gary as he was standing up and it punched him back in the chair. He shot him again sitting in it, starting to slide out. He shot the woman as she was screaming. It knocked her off her feet and shut her up. The hair puller, Gary, was on the floor getting to his hands and knees, straightening up now-Jesus, with his gun in his hand-and Elvin shot him again and then one more time before he got out of there, that sound ringing in his head.