Road Dogs

TWENTY-SEVEN

FOLEY PUT THE VW IN THE GARAGE, PULLED IT UP TO THE freezer; it was on, making a humming sound. He crossed the back patio to the kitchen and thought about going in. He would have if Cundo was alone. Or Dawn, if she was by herself. It was different now. He walked along the side of the house to the front and looked in through the open door. They left doors open out here and there were never any bugs or flies in the houses. Something Foley couldn't understand. There were no sounds from inside this afternoon. No Buena Vista riffs. Cundo liked the Social Club when he could listen to the music and wasn't having a conversation. Foley called Cundo's name through the open door.

Tico appeared on the second-floor balcony.

"The man is not doing so good, still throwing up. Dawn took him to UCLA Medical."

"When'd they leave?"

"Wasn't too long ago." Tico said, "Listen, if you not doing nothing, you want to help me measure the roof? Dawn don't know how many balloons and lights we need."

Foley, looking up at Tico. "You have a tape?"

"I do, but I need someone to hold the end. I bet you good at holding a tape measure. I'll find you a beer when we through."

Foley asked himself if he wanted to go up on the roof with Tico.

Yes, he believed he did.

Foley followed Tico upstairs to the third floor and then to the metal stairs on the side of the house, like a fire escape to the roof, Tico bringing along a volleyball.

"The one I have being a Mikasa Competition ball, forty-nine ninety-nine. I had a chick walk out of the store with it under her top looking eight and a half months gone. I play the game on the beach, get anybody wants to try me."

They were on the tar-and-gravel roof now. Nothing in the way of the gray sky hanging over them.

"I say to Dawn, 'How 'bout we put up the net for the party? Choose up teams among the neighbors and play us some volleyball.' She don't think much of the idea. But I bet when the party gets going I bring out the net? They people gonna want to play." He lobbed the ball to Foley and backed up a few feet. "You think?"

Foley bounced the ball, said, "Maybe," and caught it on his sneaker, standing on one foot with it till he put the ball in the air and caught it on his other sneaker, put it in the air again and this time kicked it to Tico.

"Tha's pretty good you can do that." He held the ball straight out to the side in one hand, flipped it to his shoulders and let the ball roll along his other arm to his hand. "You like that?" He backed up again, getting closer to the edge of the roof.

Foley said, "Dawn told me about the macaroni and cheese."

Tico grinned. "The old man didn't think it was funny. What he did, lit a cigarette and stuck it in the cheese food."

"He was pretty mad?"

"She was just messing with him."

Foley watched him start to grin.

"And you went out after?"

Foley waited.

"We did, we went to a Cuban place." "What'd he eat made him sick?" "I believe camaron, shrimp." "You brought him home?"

"Yes, I put him to bed. Laid him out… " Tico serious now. He said, "Hey, want to play a game? Roof ball. From Costa Rica." He turned around, stepped to the edge that looked down on the brick patio in back, and turned again to face Foley. "You suppose to be drunk when you play it. One man stands here, his back to the edge of the roof. So you can feel they's nothing behind you. I'm already here, I can be the first one. What you do is throw or kick the ball at me. You do it three times, the first one from five paces, say fifteen feet. The next one from ten feet, and the last throw you closer still, from five feet. You want to play?"

"How do you win?"

"The other man can't handle the ball."

"Anybody ever fall off the roof?"

"Tha's the one loses. Man, this is a serious game. You playing or not?"

"Let's loosen up first, play catch."

Tico said okay and they threw it back and forth, Tico left-handed. After a minute Foley said, "I'm ready."

"You're good where you are," Tico said, and threw the ball to him.

Foley tossed the ball underhand in a high arc, letting it roll off his fingers. He said, "You drove Cundo home?" to Tico looking straight up before moving in a step to catch the ball.

"Man, I never saw that kind of throw before, looking at the sky. What you do in roof ball-I'll tell you this one secret-you throw the ball high and hard, wing it right above the man's head. He throws up his hands and can lose his balance."

"Did Dawn take care of him?"

"What?"

"When you got home."

"Yeah, she gave him something, put him to bed." "I thought you did."

"Yes, both of us. Move in and throw another." He said, "Yes," nodding, "about there is good."

Foley threw the next one hard at Tico's feet. Tico did a dance step and kicked it back to him. "You didn't catch it." "No, you have to handle it is all."

Five feet in front of him Foley threw the ball straight up with both hands, as high as he could and stood looking at Tico's head bent back, his feet moving, then planted and bent back to catch the ball above his head.

He said, "All right, I took your best shot. Now is my turn. Come here and stand on the edge."

Foley took a minute to stretch and twist his body one way and then the other, Tico patient, the ball under his arm as he watched.

"Listo? You ready?"

"I guess so."

"You on the edge? Your heels have to touch." "I'm on the edge."

And Tico drop-kicked the ball at him, hard, and Foley caught it with his forearms at his midsection doubled over. He brought the ball up with one hand gripping it and tossed it back to Tico.

Tico said, "Man, you quick for an old dog."

This time Tico bounced the ball twice and used his foot to press the white ball against the black tar-and-gravel roof. Now as he stepped to kick Foley said, "You check on Cundo today?" Tico tried to hold back but his foot topped the ball and it rolled to Foley.

"That's two," Foley said. "You kidding me? That wasn't my shot?" "You kicked the ball, didn't you? But you didn't answer my question. You check on Cundo today?" "I was busy." He was annoyed too.

"When Dawn asked you to get me up here…help you measure, weren't you at the house?" "When she told me? Yeah." "You see Cundo?" "He was getting in her car." "How'd he look?"

Tico said, "You want to cheat me, okay, I take my third shot." "I asked you how he looked." "Sick, man, how you think?"

He rolled the ball with his foot, playing with it, rolled it toward himself and scooped it up with the toe of his slender brown shoe, caught it and shoved a pass at Foley. This time he got his hands up to stop the ball and it bounced back to Tico.

"You didn't handle it that time, I get to do it again. Huh, where you think I'm gonna shoot it at you?" Tico faked a shot and grinned. "Not that one." He faked another and shoved a two-handed bullet at Foley, high. Foley turned his head and the ball sailed past him and they heard it bounce in the patio below.

"Man, you still don't catch the ball. Now you have to go get it," Tico said, stepping closer to Foley, an arm's length, moved in another half step and put his hand on Foley's chest. "You want to go down the stairs," Tico said, "or you want me to help you?" He gave Foley a gentle poke with his finger. "Tell me how you think about it right now, how you find yourself."

Foley said, "I think you're giving me a bunch of shit, Dawn taking Cundo to the hospital."

Tico said, "Oh, is that right?"

"I think he's dead," Foley said. "I can't see Dawn shooting him or clubbing him over the head at the table-come up behind him from the kitchen-but I can see you sneaking up. She make you do it?" Foley said, and felt the fingers move on his chest, saw Tico begin to turn to get his shoulder into the shove, and Foley took a finger from his chest, twisted it and saw Tico's mouth come open and saw him rise straight with the pain, and Foley went down, rolled into Tico's legs and pulled him by the finger in his grip to sail into space this gray afternoon, Tico's scream cut off as he hit the patio.

Foley crawled around to wrap his fingers on the edge of the roof now, still scared, more scared looking down at Tico lying on his back looking up. Foley could tell he was dead.

He knelt down next to Tico looking at his bloody eyes, felt his throat for a pulse; he didn't find one. The young man from Costa Rica, former Mayan spear-chucker in another life, had left for the

other side, his lavender scarf still cinched to his head. Foley thought of pressing his eyelids down, but thought about it a few moments and left him staring at nothing.

He phoned Jimmy's office from the house across the canal. Zorro answered and said, "She stop by just now." Foley said, "Alone?" Wanting to be sure.

"All by herself. I tole her Jimmy was out, don't know where he went. Maybe to have his lunch."

"Good, she'll look for him."

He told Zorro about playing roof ball with Tico.

Zorro said, "Man, tha's some game. I'm glad I never play it. Listen, you want me to move the body away from there, I will."

"He isn't our problem," Foley said. "We'll let Dawn figure out what to do with him."