Savage Season

"Hold that too," Howard said.

Leonard looked at me. "He's just too tough. When he talks I get this little rush in my loins, don't you?"

During this exchange Trudy had disappeared into the bedroom. She came out now wearing a bundle of clothes, her big lumberjill coat topping it off. "Put something warm on," she said to Howard.

He went into the bedroom and came out a few minutes later bundled as heavily as she was. They went out the front door. I closed my eyes and dozed.

Next time I came awake, it was to the sound of the back door opening and closing.

Trudy and Howard came in through the kitchen, red-faced from the cold. The bottoms of Howard's pants were spotted with wet dirt and the toes of his shoes were tipped with it. Trudy looked as clean and desirable as ever, even decked out like a little she bear in her winter coat.

I looked at the clock in spite of myself. Two-forty-eight. Time flies when you're having a good time.

Howard got his pretty little automatic out and pointed Leonard to the bathroom. When Leonard finished, I took my turn and went back to my chair.

It was three A.M.

Moving right along.

Leonard went right back to sleep. He even snored. For me it was more nodding in and out. Once I awoke and Chub had gone back to his place on the floor and Paco was on the couch, gun in his lap. There was a saucer on the arm of the couch and it was full of cigarette butts and there was a cigarette in his mouth and a cloud of smoke hung over his head. He looked a little twitchy. It was the first time I'd seen him that way. There were beads of sweat on his wrecked face and that studied cool he'd had was on vacation. When he saw I was awake he called some of the cool home, smiled, gave a slice-hand wave and picked up his gun with the other hand.

I thought about jumping him, but I also thought about getting shot. If Leonard were awake, I might signal to him, and we could jump him at the same time. The bastard couldn't get both of us.

Or maybe he could. And if he only got one of us, I didn't want it to be me, and I assumed Leonard felt the same way— about himself. And if we did take him, it probably wouldn't be without a noisy struggle, and that would bring the rest of them awake, and they all had guns.

I gave Paco the foulest look I could muster, twisted in my chair, and was about to close my eyes when Trudy came out of the bedroom. She was carrying a flashlight, wearing her lumberjill outfit again, only this time with less bundling under the coat.

Paco looked a question at her.

"Can't sleep. Going to take a walk."

Paco nodded.

She went out through the kitchen. She was a walking kind of gal this night. I closed my eyes and slept. It was Trudy coming back that woke me. She wasn't all that loud, but I wasn't that deep in sleep either. She came in red-faced from the cold again, pulling off her brown cotton gloves. She came over to the edge of the couch, looked at Paco, then stared at me for a long, hard time. I studied her in return. The bottoms of her pants and the toes of her boots were crusted with clay and there were a few pieces of gravel stuck in the clay at the front ridge of her boot like ugly gems on hard red velvet. The great Hap Holmes deduced she had been out walking along the edge of the creek, where Leonard had tried to build up his land to keep it from washing away.

She tired of trying to stare me down—which was good, I was about to look away—and walked behind the couch and into the bedroom and closed the door.

"She's still got the hots for you bad," Paco said.

"Save it," I said.

The clock showed a little after five.

I didn't go back to sleep again. By six, Howard and Trudy were both up. Trudy had already showered and was wearing one of my shirts with a clean pair of jeans. Everyone else had on what they had worn the night before. Howard got guard duty. The rest went into the kitchen and scrounged through Leonard's stuff for breakfast. Leonard awoke in time to see them using up his coffee, his bread and butter, and most importantly, his vanilla cookies. Losing the cookies really bugged him. He had a passion for them, kept them hidden even from me. Paco found them by accident and put them on the table so they could be had with coffee, and though we were offered some, I could tell it was no fun to Leonard to get his own cookies from assholes.

I had picked up tidbits of information here and there, listening to them talk when we were at the Sixties Nest, and now here at Leonard's, and I had a good idea of their general, if not specific, plans. With the exception of Paco, who was tight-lipped and unreadable, they weren't secretive about the general stuff. They had brought us here because the guns they intended to buy were to be bought someplace outside of LaBorde, and neither LaBorde or that place were excessively far from Leonard's house. Last, but not least, Trudy said Paco had contacts in LaBorde that would help them go underground. They weren't ex-movement people, they were drug runners. But the method for getting lost from the mainstream was the same no matter what your purpose. After all, Paco had done it for years. They only had to follow his lead.

I hoped they would do what they were going to do and get it over with, then let us go. I didn't want to spend another night sleeping in a chair. The rose fields seemed like a better career today than yesterday. I wanted out of the picture. I wanted to toss away its frame and knock down the wall it hung on.

But when we were out of this mess, I was uncertain what I'd do. If I went to the police, I had to tell them about the money I'd helped find. I could lie my way around it for a while, but if they caught one of the others, the truth would come out, and I might end up viewing the world from behind bars again. Maybe Huntsville prison this time, but a prison just the same. The difference in their exercise yards would not be of enough interest to make the time appealing. And even if I didn't mention Leonard, one of the foiled revolutionaries might. Leonard wouldn't like prison any better than I had or would again. Yet, if I said nothing, innocent people might die during one of the group's holdups, and no matter how I might rationalize it, that would be on my head.

It was not an exciting morning. Paco used Leonard's phone a couple of times to mutter a conversation at someone, and with the exception of Howard, who was sitting on the couch with his gun, guarding us, we were essentially ignored.

Finally Trudy came over and sat on the couch, reached under her (my) shirt and took the gun out of the waistband of her pants and said to Howard, "I'll watch awhile."

· Howard got up and went to the table, laid his gun beside the bag of cookies, opened the bag and went to work. I could almost feel Leonard flinch while Howard ate. Leonard sure loved his cookies.

I smiled at Trudy. It was not a nice smile. "You're all jackasses," I said.

She smiled at me. It was not a nice smile. "Whatever you think, Hap. You and I aren't connected in any way anymore. It's just not there. What you say doesn't matter to me. You don't do what we say, try to get away before we're ready to let you go, try to screw things up, we'll shoot you. Wound you if we can. Kill you if we have to. Don't think our past will keep me from pulling the trigger myself. Understand?"

"All too well."

"What are you going to do with us, and when?" Leonard said.

"Paco's got to make another call, then we'll know when and where to meet our contacts, know better what we're going to do."

"Why not have them come out here and we can have a party?" Leonard said. "They can finish off my cookies."

"Better yet," I said, "leave us here. Cut the phone lines or something, let the air out of Leonard's tires. Go your way and leave us be."

"If I knew everything would go smooth, I would. But I want you two with us until the moment we've got the guns and we're ready to go underground. We have some kind of delay and you two are free, you warn someone, then we could get caught before we're ready to make things work. And if our game plan doesn't go right, something about this buy sours, we can have here for a home base for a few days till we put something else together. I want us prepared for any emergency. When it all works out you'll be with us, and if it doesn't happen here, we'll let you out some place where you won't be able to get to a phone too quickly. Not someplace so isolated you'll freeze to death or be too miserable."

"We sure wouldn't want to inconvenience you none," Leonard said.

"Then Paco's going to take us to meet our underground connections. New transportation has been arranged. We'll ditch the van, and—"

"And the rest is history," I said.

"We'll try to make a difference," Trudy said.

"Take the money and give it to the goddamn whales," I said. "This is stupid. You with a gun? Think about it."

"I have. I've been for gun control all my life, and now here I am with one. Soon to have more. But I've given to the whales and I've given time and what money I could get to most everything. This time I'm giving myself, and I'll make a difference."

"Hap told me about the bird you drowned," Leonard said. "I think that makes you ready for anything, a stone killer."

"Oh, shut up, Leonard," Trudy said.

"Serious now," Leonard said. "You could call yourself the Ice Birds. You know, like the Weathermen or the Mechanics, only you can be the Ice Birds on account of you're bad enough and mean enough to drown a sparrow. Shit, I want in. I'll drive and you shoot."

"It's all comedy to you two," she said. "Exist from day to day, watch out for yourself and each other, and that's it. You're not contributing to anything beyond your moment. If it doesn't affect you immediately, then it's of no consequence."

"Sounds right," Leonard said.

Trudy leaned back into the couch and held the gun in her lap. She said, "You're hopeless."

"That may be," Leonard said. "But what I'd like to do is call a friend who's been feeding my dogs, tell him I'm home and not to come over. I don't want you Ice Birds—"

"Don't call us that."

"—getting touchy and shooting an old man for one of the bureaucratic, capitalistic pigs that run our society. And I'd like to go out and feed them. Anyone else tries, Switch will take their face off. You can bring your arsenal along so I don't run off."

"Call him," Howard said. He had been listening on the sidelines, and now he was waving Leonard out of his chair with his automatic. "Any tricks, though, and you could get yourself or Hap hurt."

Leonard made the call. It was quick and simple and friendly. No codes were passed. He went out and fed the dogs and Paco and his gun went with him. The morning crawled by like a gutted turtle. About noon Paco made a call. When he quit mumbling into the phone he said to the others, "They got a place and a time for us to meet. Sounds okay. Think we can get this over with pretty quick. Get the money, and let's do it."

Chapter 21

We went in the mini-van. Chub drove. Paco sat in the front seat beside him. Trudy and Howard sat in the middle seat and turned around and pointed towel-covered guns at me and Leonard in the backseat. Outside the weather had turned wet with icy rain and the wipers whipped at it like a madman trying to tread water.

"Can we stop for burgers on the way?" Leonard said.

No answer.

We caught the loop and took it around LaBorde, out past the city limits to a stretch made up of long metal storage buildings, and finally the old Apache Drive-in Theater.

It was no longer in operation and would possibly someday become the site of a number of rectangular aluminum buildings the size of aircraft hangers. Before TV hit it a left, and some years later video cassettes finished it with a hard right cross, it was the place to go, but now it was condemned junk.

The great old Apache Indian head figure that had stood atop the marquee was gone, probably stolen, but the marquee itself was still there, high up on its metal poles. There were breaks in it and the red letters mounted there were few and left a cryptic message: ED N HE ST.

We drove past the marquee, past the pay booth, to what used to be the entrance. There was a plywood barrier now. Kids had spray-painted pictures and graffiti on it. The pictures were the usual hairy vagina and dick and balls and most of the sexual suggestions were misspelled. At least when we were kids and did that sort of thing we spelled Fuck with a c in it.

"Honk the horn," Paco said.

"What?" Chub said.

"They said honk the fucking horn."

Chub hit down on it and held it.

"Just once, dammit," Paco said.

The plywood wall shook and slid back. When it was halfway across a woman appeared from behind, got at the other end and shoved it some more.

As we drove past her, I saw that she was in her late twenties, tall—over six feet—and dark-haired. Attractive. Wearing a jogging suit with a blue jean coat over it. The coat couldn't keep you from noticing she was a bodybuilder. She looked a trim one seventy and her muscles hopped like rabbits when she moved.

I looked back and saw that she had hold of the plywood and was backing up, pulling it into place.

I glanced at Leonard, and he raised his eyebrows.

I took a deep breath. I could feel my hands fluttering on my knees. Howard's Adam's apple was working slightly and Trudy was watching me intently, her breath audible.

"Park here," Paco said, and pointed at the concession stand. We parked and got out. Howard and Trudy took the towels off their guns. More professional that way. The cold rain beat on our heads and drenched us to the bone. I found myself looking at where the old drive-in screen had been. I wished it were ten years ago, and I was here for a movie.

Paco went into the concession by himself, came out a minute later. "Come on."

We went in. It was dry inside but very cold. There was all manner of rubbish on the floor: beer cans, condoms, old popcorn bags, candy wrappers and a pile of turds that might have been human or animal.

We went past what had been the concession counter and into a room that had a faded sign above it that read OFFICE. Inside there was an old cheap desk made out of what they called pressed wood, but was little more than hardened cardboard. On the desk was a battered black porkpie hat and a frayed black umbrella. Behind the desk was a man sitting on an upright soft drink crate. Through the opening his feet and legs were visible beneath the desk. He was long and lean, dressed in black slacks with hightop black tennis shoes. His red and black plaid shirt poked out over a vanilla wind-breaker. In spite of this light attire, he didn't look cold. Quite the contrary. He had black hair cut short and greased and combed back. He wore a pair of thick-lensed glasses with square black frames. The nose bar and the left wing of the glasses were wrapped with thick white tape. The eyes behind the glasses seemed huge. They were black as his hair and only slightly less oily-looking. He smiled and showed us he was missing some teeth in the right side of his mouth. His face was slightly flushed and pimpled with sweat. He looked as if he were running a fever that was trying to break.

We were all stuffed in the little room and now the muscular woman came in, shook her wet hair like a dog. She had one hand in the pocket of her coat. She leaned in the corner, pulled a leg up and bent it so that the sole of her foot was pushed against the wall. Her face held no more expression than a wax dummy.

"Hey, the revolutionaries," said the man behind the desk. "Que Pasa. How the fuck are you?"

"We're all right," Howard said.

"Glad to hear it," the man said.

"We'd like to deal quickly," Howard said.

"Sure," the man said. "But let me introduce myself. . . Ah, fucked up. Ladies first." He nodded at the Amazon. "That shapely piece of meat is Angel. Me, I'm Soldier. I want you to remember that, know who you're dealing with. Case things don't go down the way you like, you can, come to me and say, 'Soldier, things aren't to my satisfaction.' And I can say, 'Fuck you.' "

I glanced at Leonard. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Howard and Trudy still had their guns but they weren't pointing them at us anymore; they held them against their legs.

"Do you know what I'm saying here?" Soldier said.

Howard looked at Trudy, and I saw his left cheek jump. Trudy's lips made a thin white line. Chub moved over near the wall Angel was occupying. He was between her and the desk. Paco moved to the right of Soldier. He had his hands in his coat pockets and was looking at the dirty, paper-littered floor.

"Nobody knows what I'm saying?" Soldier said.

"No," Trudy said. "We want to deal for the guns. That's all we want. You give us the guns, and we give you the money. We got to see the guns first."

"You do." Soldier looked at Paco. "Hear that, they got to see the guns first?"

"I hear," Paco said.

"You got guns," Soldier said. "All you got guns, 'cept for this one"—he pointed a finger at me—"and the nigger. Right?" He looked at Paco. "They're the dumb assholes helped find the money, aren't they? That right? I got 'em picked? I know I got the nigger picked. He's the only nigger in the bunch. Black man, you called him. Black my ass. I know a nigger when I see one."

"Yeah," Paco said. "That's them."

"My folks brought me here when I was fifteen. Moved down from Jersey to get here where you spear-chunkers know your place. And you're worse here. Everything's gotten so goddamn . . . What's the word, Angel?"

"Homogeneous," Angel said.

"That's it, goddamned homogeneous. You got your best Ku Kluxers up North now. Southerners, they've come to think a nigger's all right. Turns my stomach."

"Hating a person because of their skin won't solve anything," Chub said.

"Shut up, Chub," Paco said.

Soldier looked at Chub in surprise. It was as if he had just seen a miracle. "Who the fuck asked you to talk?"

"Not everyone feels like you do," Chub said.

"Not now, Chub," Paco said.

"You shut up too," Soldier said, pointing a finger at Paco. He shifted it to Chub, said, "Angel, move."

Angel stepped toward me. I saw a snubnose .38 come out of her coat pocket. I glanced back at Soldier. He stood, picked his hat up, took hold of the .45 automatic under it, pointed it at Chub and fired. The back of Chub's head went by me in a gray and red flash, hit the wall where Angel had stood. Chub bent his knees slowly, went down until he was supported on them, fell back with his face to the ceiling. The rest of what was in his head ran out like sewage.

The sound of the gunshot throbbed around the room, and Soldier, the .45 still pointed where Chub had stood, said, "Anyone makes to use their gun, I'll kill 'em. If not me, Angel. Not Angel, Paco."

We looked at Paco.

"That's the way it is," Paco said.

Chapter 22

"Yeah," Soldier said. "That's the way it is. Now play real smart, don't give me any nigger lectures, and let Angel collect your guns. Pretty please?"

Angel merely took hold of the barrels of the guns, one at a time, tugged gently. Trudy and Howard were so stunned they let go without realizing it. Angel tossed the guns on the desk, went over and opened Chub's coat and pulled his out of his waistband. I couldn't help but look at those open, bugged eyes of his, that small hole in his forehead, the puddle on the floor where the back of his head touched. No more analysis for him. No more worries about being the inadequate fat boy. I hoped at some point I had said something nice to him, more for my sake than his.

Angel tossed Chub's gun on the table with the others.

Soldier nodded at the guns. "These are for shit. You dips wouldn't have known guns had I had them. I leave here, I leave that shit right here on the desk. . . . You see, there never were any guns, or any goddamn underground. There was just Paco and he's been talking to me, and he knows me and knows I got a line on some deals, and he wants to make big bucks. Get out of the chickenfeed, you know. The big score, and all that shit. Besides, who but me is going to hire the ugly sonofabitch for something big, huh? No offense, Paco. Fire'll do that to you. Make you like scrunched . . . What's that wrapper paper, Angel? They put it around Twinkies, that kind of thing."

"Cellophane," Angel said.

"That's it, That's the stuff your face looks like, Paco."

Soldier turned back to us and moved the sight of the .45 along the side of his jaw. Our eyes went to him and his gun and back to poor Chub. A gun and a dead body will hypnotize you, especially with the echo of the shot still ringing in your ears, the coppery smell of blood and shit stuffed full in your nostrils.

"Those are special expressions you're wearing," Soldier said, and he smiled at Trudy and Howard. "Got your goats, didn't I? Came in here all ready to deal, dragging prisoners along like you're somebody tough, and now you're all my prisoners. And I ain't got gun one. Don't think I can't get 'em, now, I can. Could. But I don't deal them much anymore. They're a hassle. Easy to get caught. Dope's easier. But Paco, he comes to me, says he's got something easier than that, got some real dumbasses on the hook that I don't got to do business with you. Just got to be here to take your money. And you know what's best for you, we'll get on with that part right now, because I don't take shit. I'm like my old man. He didn't take none of it neither. Old lady mouthed off at him, whamo." He made a backhand motion. "We kids didn't mind, whamo. Hey, see this ear." He turned his left ear to us. "See how it's kind of cauliflowered. Nothing creepy, now. Not like old Paco there, but a little fucked, you know. Old man did that. Beat me within an inch of my life. Deserved it. I was disrespectful. . . . Look here, I'm going to take that money now. Which one of you's carrying?"

I looked at Trudy. She was staring without seeing. Howard looked at her, then back to Soldier. No one said anything.

"Nobody's talking to me here," Soldier said. "Someone better talk to me real soon, or I'm going to have to get someone's attention. I'll start with the nigger, then the nagger’s pal. Paco, what's his name?"

"Hap," Paco said.

"Hap. Old Happy Kind of Guy. . . . Listen, talk to me. I'm going to get the money anyway. I can shoot you and search you. But hey, I'm easy. I'd prefer you show a little respect here and give it over. I'm big on respect. Know what I'm saying?"

"We want the guns," Trudy said, and her voice was surprisingly firm.

Soldier smiled. "What's that? The guns? You want the guns?" He looked at Paco. "She wants the guns." He turned back to Trudy. "Bitch, I told you, there aren't any guns. No bang-bangs. Not even any bullets for you to throw. You see, it's like this. You give me the money, and I don't blow your brains out. That's the deal, see, and that's all the deal there is." Soldier lifted the automatic and pointed it at Leonard. "We'll start with the coon, he'll be missed the least. We work up from there and end it with the woman."

Howard said, "We didn't bring it with us."

"Say what?" Soldier said. "What're you talking here? Got in a hurry going out the door and forgot the money? Huh? That the story? Hey, you better talk to me, asshole."

Howard's Adam's apple seemed to be plugging his vocal cords. "We don't have the money with us."

Soldier put the automatic on the desk and looked at Paco. "What's this? There some money or not?"

"There's money," Paco said. "I saw it."

"You wouldn't fuck with Soldier, would you?"

"I saw the money. I told them to bring it."

"You told them. You didn't see them bring it, though, right?"

"No, but mere's money. Ballpark of four hundred thousand."

"All right, you . . . What's your name?"

"Howard."

"Right. Howard. About this money you didn't bring with you."

"We ... me and Trudy thought we ought not to bring it. We thought things might not work out. . . that we'd have to bargain. The guns might not be right, and if we didn't have the money with us, we ... well, we . . ."

Soldier pointed a finger at Howard. "You'd have a lever. Am I right on that? Talk to me."

"That's right," Howard said.

"Then," Soldier said, picking up the automatic, "you could jack with old Soldier, and he'd say, oh gee, you don't like this deal. Well, we'll set it up again. Fix it to your satisfaction. Man, you must have fallen off the ... What kind of hay truck am I going for here, Angel?"

"The proverbial," Angel said.

"There you are. You must have fallen off the proverbial hay truck, Howard, my friend. You see, I don't have to deal."

"I brought five thousand of it," Howard said. "We thought that could be a down payment if things weren't just right. We were trying to be cautious. We thought of it last night."

Soldier turned to Paco. "They thought of this last night. They didn't tell you? I mean, you're supposed to be one of them and they didn't tell you?"

Paco shook his head.

"It was a precaution is all," Howard said. "In case of... in case of a double cross."

"A double cross. Hey, I don't like not being trusted, see. It's disrespectful."

"We thought there'd be guns," Howard said. "Just thought that we might get skimped on the number and the quality. We'd read about that kind of thing."

Soldier nodded his head. "Read about it, uh-huh. Well, how much you say you brought?"

"Five thousand."

"That's not piss in a bucket, Howard. Tell him, Angel."

"That's not piss in a bucket," Angel said.

"You'd have to pay me more than that to fuck your sister if she had six feet of legs and a pussy like a velvet clam. That's nothing. I make that in a day, Mr. Howard. You're wasting my time. Give me the five thousand."

Howard dug in his jacket, came forward and gave Soldier the five thousand, went back to stand by Trudy. Soldier put the automatic on the table and thumbed through the money. "Five thousand, all right. This'll be part of my share. That okay with you, Paco? Angel?"

Neither answered. It wasn't meant as a real question.

"Now, here's what we're going to do," Soldier said. "You're going to tell me where the money is, Mr. Howard."

"Leonard's place," Howard said. "We buried it."

"I see, buried it," Soldier said. "What I ought to do here is shoot the lot of you, 'cept Howard. Then you and me, Howard, we can go dig up this money."

"Be less messy to take everyone and go get it," Paco said.

"You say something, man?"

"I don't want to kill anybody 'less I have to," Paco said. "I've done it, but just when I have to."

"I say you have to, Paco, you have to. You think I didn't have to kill that asshole a while ago? That what you're thinking? A little bloodshed could have been avoided here?

I'll tell you, that asshole had no respect. That's the difference between you and me, Paco. I demand respect."

Soldier sat down on the soft drink crate and looked at us. "What about you, girlie?" he said to Trudy. "What you think about all this?"

"I'm not giving you the money," Trudy said.

"I see," Soldier said. "Spunk. Not much respect, but spunk. Just the same, I'm feeling generous as Jesus, so we'll do this Paco's way. We'll go to Leonard's . . . Leonard, that's the nigger, right?"

"Right," Paco said.

"We'll go to the nigger's place, dig up the money, take it and go our merry way, leave you holding your asses. How's that sound? You up for that, Howard? A little digging?"

There were tears on Howard's cheeks. "Yes," he said.

"Good," Soldier said. "Knowing you're happy makes me happy."

Chapter 23

Soldier went through Chub's pockets, took his money and the mini-van keys. He put on the porkpie and got his umbrella. We left Chub where he lay and went out into the rain.

Soldier and Angel had a worn white Lincoln parked on the other side of the concession, and we went there first, stood in the cold rain while Soldier told us a little about respect. Paco got behind the wheel of the Lincoln. Angel sat up front, twisted in her seat to watch Howard and Trudy in the back.

They left ahead of us.

Soldier made me drive the mini-van. He put Leonard beside me, and he took the backseat. He said, "Don't drive fast and don't think about any stupid shit like wrecking. I can put a bullet in both of you before we wrap around a telephone pole."

I didn't know which was preferable, a telephone pole or a bullet. I didn't want either.

I put the van in gear and started driving. When we were on the highway, Soldier tapped me on the shoulder with the automatic. "Angel. Whatda ya think of her? How she looks, I mean."

"She's all right," I said. "The gun takes away some."

"Those muscles bother you?"

"No."

"Yeah. Well, I tell you. Climb on top of her, it's like climbing on boulders. You can get a bruise. Stick your dick in her, you don't know you're getting it back. Got a bear trap for a pussy. We're talking about getting married. Whatda ya think?"

"You're a match made in heaven," I said.

"Yeah, maybe," he said. "But I don't know a man ought to marry some woman can bench press more than him, know what I'm saying? It far to the nigger's place?"

"Reasonably far," I said.

"Yeah, well, drive careful. I've seen some bad wrecks, weather like this."

By the time we got there the weather had really gotten bad. There were flakes of snow mixed in with the blowing rain and ice and the sky was dusk as near sunset. Last time I had eaten was early that morning, and I was famished and felt a little light-headed.

We went into the house, which had been left unlocked, and Angel was standing by the couch holding her gun. Paco had his automatic in his waistband and he was stacking kindling in the fireplace. Trudy and Howard sat on the couch side by side with their hands on their knees. They glanced up when we came in, then glanced away.

Soldier shook out his umbrella on the living room floor and snapped it shut so briskly we all jumped. He smiled and propped the umbrella against the door frame.

Angel waved me and Leonard over to the couch, made us sit with Trudy and Howard. It was a tight fit. Me, Leonard, Trudy and Howard, the four dumb assholes.

Angel leaned on the wall next to the fireplace, held her gun against her thigh and watched us. Her eyes were dark and clueless.

"Look around," Soldier told Angel. "Paco, you watch things. I'm going to find the head." He went in search of the bathroom and Angel went out the back way.

Paco pulled the automatic out of his pants as if the act were tiring, stood by the couch and hardly looked at us at all.

I said softly to Paco, "Guess this is what you meant by a truck going downhill."

"Guess so," he said.

"You should have robbed the World Savers," Leonard said. "Fat boy would still be with us if you'd done that."

"I didn't want that to happen," Paco said. "But what happens happens. Soldier's got some possibilities for me. I'm willing to gamble for the bigger score. I robbed these fools I'd have that money and that's it."

"You could have set your own deals," I said.

"Soldier, he's got better connections. He's done some big deals."

"Drugs?" Leonard said.

"Drugs," Paco said.

"But the guy's crazy," I said. "He may have some connections, but he's not firing on all cylinders. He thinks he's some kind of gangster."

"He is ... and he's fucked in the head. I don't like him any, but I've seen the kind of dough he gets. I invest my part here, I could make millions, then I'm out of the shit for good. I'll buy me a face and a life."

"You don't have to do this," I said.

"Think I don't know that?" Paco said. "I throw in with you, what do I get? Your gratitude? I can't buy a thing with that. Guy like me, record I got, way I look. This is the end of the line, and I'm going to throw the dice for the big one this one last time."

Soldier came back.

"Got a slow flush in there, nigger. Water pressure's down."

Angel came in the front door.

"How's things?" Soldier asked her.

She nodded.

Paco returned the automatic to the front of his pants and placed a couple of logs on the kindling and lit the pile with one of the big matches. It smoked a little, began to catch. "I'm going to light the heaters," he said, and he went about the house doing just that. When he came back into the room he returned to the fireplace and poked another log into the flames.

Soldier watched him, pushed his hat back on his head and let his right hand-rest on the hilt of the automatic jammed into the front of his pants. His face still had that unhealthy sheen of sweat. He worked his tongue around inside his bottom lip and said, "You going to make some sandwiches next, Paco? Get cozy, maybe have a little picnic?"

Paco turned and said, "Look here, Soldier, don't give me a hard time. I'm sick to death of being cold. And I ought to make a sandwich. We could all use a sandwich. None of us have eaten."

"You got to think about this kind of shit ahead of time. Me and Angel we ate, didn't we, Angel?"

Angel nodded.

"When was it, right at noon, when you're supposed to eat? Had some sandwiches. What was it we had, Angel?"

"Bologna."

"Yeah, bologna. Listen here, now, we get through with this little deal, I'll buy you a steak. Hey, I'll even buy these shits a steak. Okay? Hey, you, the dick, what is it? Harry?"

"Howard," Angel said.

"Come on, let's go do some digging," Soldier said. "Hell, all of you come. I'm going out in the shit, you're all going. We need a shovel for this?"

"Yes," Howard said. "It's in the barn."

"Maybe you and the girlie drew a little treasure map. Something with an X on it, you know. Says Dig Here. You do that, Howard, draw a little treasure map?"

"We dig up the money, you'll let us go?" Howard said.

Soldier spread his hands. "Hey, you don't show me the money, you got no luck. I see some money, I can get happy. Nice things might happen. Let's go."

We went out to the barn. The dogs barked at us as we went by their pens. "Tell 'em to shut up," Soldier said, "or I'll blow their fucking heads off. I hate dogs."

"Quiet," Leonard said. "Hush down."

The dogs softened their barks, and we went inside the barn through the side door. It was only slightly warmer inside than out. Soldier leaned on Trudy's Volkswagen and breathed out a cloud of vapor. "Up north they heat barns. Okay, whatcher name, what's the scoop on the money?"

"We buried it here in the barn," Howard said.

Soldier folded up his umbrella neatly and put it on top of Trudy's car. He said, "Didn't want to be cold while you were digging, that it? Get the shovel."

"It won't do any good," Trudy said.

"Yeah," Soldier said. "Tell you what, cunt. Shut up! Angel, she says another word, you fix her nose a little."

Angel nodded.

Howard got the shovel. He went around front of the Volkswagen and began to dig.

"Barns in the north," Soldier said, "they got floors. Maybe you niggers and white trash should go on and do it right. Forget the fucking walls too."

Howard stopped digging, got down on his hands and knees, moved his fingers in the dirt. He looked up at Soldier. "It's ... not here."

I thought immediately of last night and Trudy's second walk, the clay and gravel on her pants and boots. She had moved the money somewhere near the creek. She may have hardened in her dedication, but her final trust of men hadn't changed. She was for damn sure the one on the steed now.

I looked at Trudy. She was staring straight ahead. Howard was looking up at her with eyes like a kicked puppy. She'd done it to him again.

"I see," Soldier said. He said to Angel, "It's gone, honey, whatda you think?"

Angel shrugged.

Soldier pulled his automatic out of his waistband, then put it back. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. He put the hat back on and took a small packet of Kleenex out of his windbreaker pocket, carefully peeled it open, and pulled one out. He returned the packet to his pocket and used the Kleenex to clean his glasses. He put his glasses on again and dabbed his face with the Kleenex.

"Okay," he said. "The money isn't there." He tossed the used Kleenex on the ground. "Howard, give me the shovel."

Howard was still squatting by the hole, trying to sort things out. He used the shovel to help himself up, gave it to Soldier.

Soldier said, "Thanks, Howard. Stand over there, will you? About there." He looked at the hole, looked at Howard. "You're sure you dug deep enough?"

Howard nodded.

Soldier got a good grip on the shovel near the top of the handle and swung it around smoothly and caught Howard above the ear with the back of the shovel blade. Howard's head rang as if it were hollow. He fell out on his back and didn't move. Soldier put the blade of the shovel against Howard's neck, raised his foot to stomp it into him.

Trudy yelled, "Leave him alone! I took the money and hid it, you cretin! You rotten sonofabitch! Leave him alone!"

24

Soldier took the shovel from Howard's throat and flung it aside. It went by me, missing my head by about a foot.

"Goddammit, Paco," Soldier said. "You said this would be an easy score. Just wear our leotards, dance in and take the money. This hasn't been easy. This is boring. This is bullshit!"

"Trudy," Paco said. "Give us the money. We'll let you go if you do. There's no other way."

"You lying double-crossing shit," Trudy said.

"That's me," Paco said. "Now give us the money. It'll only go hard for you if you don't."

"It damn sure will," Soldier said.

"I'm talking here," Paco said. "You're not the only one's killed somebody, you know."

"Oh," Soldier said, "listen to you. The goddamn creature from hell, and now you're talking some orders. Don't you forget, freak. I'm the one gives the orders."

They stared at one another for a hard moment. Paco had his automatic in his fist and Soldier's was still in his pants. He had his hand resting on it.

"This is some shit, Paco," Soldier said. "You and me trying to showdown on one another. We're partners. Right, huh? Right?"

"Close enough," Paco said. His voice was firm but I could see his legs were vibrating slightly.

"Let's don't say some things we'll regret," Soldier said. "Let's go on to the house, talk a little. Trudy here, she'll see to reason. Won't you, Trudy?"

"I'm not telling you where the money is," Trudy said.

"All right," Soldier said. "You're not telling. Not now. Things can change, though. You, Happy Man. You and the nigger. Get what's his name here, Howie, Howard, whatever the fuck. Carry him to the house."

We put Howard on the couch and Trudy and Paco took chairs and me and Leonard sat on the brick hearth before the fire. Angel stood in front of us with her gun. She seemed as natural as part of the furniture.

Soldier sat at the kitchen table and called out to us. "Maybe Paco's right. We all get a little something to eat, we'll feel better. More cooperative, you know. He awake?"

Angel went over to the couch and turned Howard's head with her hand. I could see a knot the size of an orange at the front of his ear and the middle of the knot was cut and oozing blood.

"No?" Soldier said. "Well, we can save him a little something for later. Paco, what say you make the sandwiches? Am I bossing again, huh?"

"I'll do it," Paco said.

He did. We had sandwiches made of leftover meatloaf. I don't really remember eating it, which, considering Leonard's meatloaf, is no loss, but I certainly needed it. I felt a small measure of strength return.

"Everybody eaten now?" Soldier said. "All right. We got that out of the way. We're all feeling less grumpy, am I right? Doody, come over here and see me."

"Trudy," Angel said.

"Trudy, then, whatever. Just get over here."

"I'm not telling you where the money is."

"Come here anyway. Angel, give her some help."

Angel pulled Trudy to her feet, pushed her toward the kitchen table. Trudy went over and sat in the chair across from Soldier.

Soldier smiled at her. "Not still hungry, are you? Need a glass of water? No. Good. Now listen here. What we got is a simple problem, but you're making it into one of those whatya call its ... Angel, help me out here."

"Dilemmas."

"Yeah. One of them. It's really a lot more simple than that. You give me the money, and we go away. You don't give me the money, I shoot you. And all your friends too. The nigger and Happy. All of you end up like the fat boy back at the Apache. Brains on the wall. It's not a good way, Trudy."

"You're going to kill us anyway," Trudy said.

"No. No. I'm. going to let you go. I'll take the money, get long gone, and hey, next day you're back to whatever you were doing before we came together here."

"I tell you where the money is, you'll kill us," Trudy said. "And if you're going to kill us anyway, I'm not going to tell you where it is. If I'm going to die, it's knowing you haven't got the money."

"That's tough, Trudy. You're a hard little cunt, I give you that. You seen a man's brains blown out and one get it with a shovel, and you're still talking to me like we got some negotiations here. Last time you and, what's his name, Howie, Henry ..."

"Howard," Angel said.

"Yeah, him. Two of you didn't do so good, you know? I mean, you got no guns. You got nothing."

"And you don't have the money," Trudy said. "That money was for an idea, an important one—"

Soldier made a fiddling motion with his left arm and right hand. His lips drooped at the corners and pursed.

"—and you just want it to spend."

"You think all I want is to spend this money? Any fool can spend money. Buy a gallon of milk, a pound of butter, new economy car. Trip to Tahoe. Bullshit. There's spending, then there's spending. I'm a regular goddamned cona . . . What am I saying here, Angel?"

"Connoisseur."

"That. You see, baby, I've made more money in a day than you got hid out there. This bit of shit, four hundred thousand or so, that's nothing. But this is supposed to be an easy score, see, and you're making it not so easy, and I'm getting hardheaded about it. It's the principle of the thing now. How do you think I'm going to feel about myself I let this go? I said I was going to get the money, and I'm going to get the money. Takes a little time, it takes a little time. But if it takes time, it's going to seem a hell of a lot longer to you, Doody. Hear me? And in the end, no matter what, I'm going to get the money."

"Not if I don't tell you," Trudy said.

"You'll tell. Look, here's what I'll do. To show I'm no hard guy." He pulled out the five thousand Howard had given him and put it on the table. "I give this back. Yours. Not to split with anyone else. All yours. Buy you a little something nice, new dress. Get your hair done. Whatever. Your money. All you got to do is tell me where the main pile is. You give me the big wad, I let you and everyone else go. The nigger too. And you make a little change. And I tell you, I'm in a good mood when I get the money, I might toss in a little bonus for everybody. Whatda you say? We got a deal?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Soldier's sweaty face went red. "Have it your way." He got up and walked around the table. Put his hands on the back of Trudy's chair, bent so that his chin touched the top of her head. My muscles bunched in the center of my back like a knot being tied. "You're sure?" he said. "I'm as sure as I've ever been," Trudy said.

Soldier straightened up, looked around the kitchen. He went over to the cabinet Leonard was building and got the hammer, took one of the long nails from the paper bag. He went back to his chair at the table, said, "Angel. Can you come over here a moment? I'm going to need your help."

"Soldier," Paco said. "Don't."

"Paco," Soldier said, "I've let you fuck with me a lot. Don't think my good humor's going to hold out forever. There's money and I want it. You want it, don't you? Want what I can do for you?"

Paco paused.

"Well?" Soldier said.

"Yeah," Paco said, and he was barely audible.

"Then," Soldier said, "we got to get this show on the road." He took off his hat and tossed it in the corner.

"Angel, take hold of her left hand."

Chapter 25

I had only thought I had been helpless before. I could see what was coming and I wanted to stop it, wanted to do something heroic like leap over the couch and go for Soldier and break his neck. I had the ability to break his neck, but I had no reason to believe I could reach him. Paco might not want things to be like they were, but he had cast his lot, and would shoot me before I had gone six feet. And if he didn't, there was Angel. She had her gun in the waist of her jogging pants, but she was far enough away she could draw and fire. And then there was Soldier.

If I died, that left Leonard and Howard and Trudy against this bunch, and Trudy wasn't going to be worth much in a moment. Howard was out of it. I had to bide my time.

I could tell them I knew the money was along the creek, but even so, I didn't know where. Bottom line was I couldn't lead them straight to it, and I couldn't depend on luck. And even if they got the money, Trudy was right. Soldier was going to kill us.

"Open your hand and put it on the table," Soldier told Trudy.

Trudy didn't move. She sat with her hands in her lap staring straight ahead.

Angel took hold of Trudy's hand. Trudy made a fist. Angel slapped her. Trudy let out a cry. Angel opened Trudy's hand with both of hers and pushed it flat against the table, palm down, and held her by the wrist.

"Do it, you pig," Trudy said. "Do it!"

Soldier put the nail against the back of Trudy's hand and the hammer came down quick and the nail went through and Trudy screamed and the table rocked. Her fingers thrashed like heated caterpillars.

Angel let go of Trudy's hand and stepped back from the table. She turned to look out the kitchen window, as if distracted by a bird.

"Now," Soldier said. "The money. Or the other hand."

Trudy opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"That's all right," Soldier said. "Rest a little. You'll get your voice back. But you don't tell me about that money, it's the other hand. That don't work, we got to do a tit."

I had stood up when the hammer came down, but there was nowhere to go and nothing to do that wouldn't get me killed.

"Sit down," Paco said.

I sat down. I felt small in my clothes. I could see the side of Trudy's face. Her eyelid was fluttering rapidly. Soldier said, "That had been me, I think I'd have passed out. You got balls on you, sister. I give you that. But hey, this has got to hurt. Am I right? Let's stop this unpleasantness. I want you to stop being obstrap, ob . . . What am I going for here, Angel?"

"Obstreperous."

"There you go. Obstreperous. Where's the money?"

Trudy's voice was a rasp, but the words were clear. "Eat shit."

Soldier leaned over the table and slapped her. She fell back out of the chair and the table turned over and the edge of it hit her in the neck. The fall stretched her hand to the limit the nail would allow. She lay there and made little sobbing noises while the five thousand dollars fluttered all over like a shattered head of lettuce.

In that instant I wanted her to tell what she knew. Let them have the money and shoot us, get it over with, and in that same instant my survival instincts rose up in me and I knew I had maybe one card to play, and I had to play it now or fold and count the lot of us out.

"I know where the money is," I said.

"What?" Soldier said. "You, Happy Guy. What's that?"

"I know where the money is."

"He's lying," Paco said. "He never left this house. He wouldn't know where she buried it. If he did, he wouldn't have let her go through this. He's stalling."

Leonard was watching Paco like a dog watched a favorite bone. All right, Paco was Leonard's. I'd count on that.

That left Angel and Soldier.

"It just came to me where it is," I said. "I remember when she came in, what she had on her shoes."

"Shoes?" Soldier said. "We're talking shoes? I'm talking money, I don't know from shoes, Mr. Happy. Money, the moola, the green."

"I know where the money is because of her shoes."

"I see," Soldier said. "One of those clue things, huh?"

"Something like that," I said. "Give me a shovel, and I'll give you the money."

"Hey, there we are," Soldier said. "Angel. He's going to give us the money. Hear that?"

Angel nodded.

"You're all right, Happy. I could get to like you."

"I don't want to like you," I said. "I want to get this over with. I give you the money, and you let us go."

"Have I ever said different?" Soldier said. "This's the deal I been trying to shake all day. Give me the money, I let you go. That's what I been saying, right? That's right, isn't it Angel?"

"That's right," Angel said.

"Let's go, Happy," Soldier said, "you and me."

"All of us," I said.

"All of us?" Soldier said. "You're telling me, all of us? Everybody's a boss here. I mean, I'm supposed to be the boss, and I got no say."

"I want Trudy doctored," I said. "I want her with us. I don't want to leave her with Angel. Angel likes what she does too much."

"We'll leave her with Paco."

"No."

"Now you're trying to negotiate. You see where that gets you. A nail in the hand. Lying on the floor."

"My way, in twenty, thirty minutes, you'll have the money," I said. "Your way could go on all day."

"If you're tough as she is," Soldier said.

"I don't think I am," I said. "But I might be tough enough to last for a while. Longer than twenty or thirty minutes."

The sweat on Soldier's face looked like a thick coating of Vaseline. He wrinkled his brows and nodded.

"You got a point on the time thing, Happy Man. Not a good one, but a point. But hey, I'm sick of dicking around. I want to ... What is it when you want to speed things up, Angel?"

"Expedite."

"Expedite. That'll do. So, deal."

Soldier squatted behind the overturned table, took the hammer, and hit the point of the nail hard. Trudy let out a yelp and bent at the waist and almost sat up before falling back down. The head of the big nail poked out of the back of her hand, but it was still partially in the table.

Angel got hold of Trudy's wrist, jerked hard and the nail came out of the table and the head of it caught on the back of Trudy's hand. Angel grabbed the nail from the bottom and shoved it through most of the way, then caught the head of it between two fingers, yanked it free and tossed it on the floor. She let go of Trudy's wrist and put the overturned chair upright and sat Trudy in it. Trudy was as white as plaster.

"Get the monkey blood, tie a rag around her hand, whatever you want," Soldier said. "Let's get this over with."

Chapter 26

Angel brought some alcohol from Leonard's medicine cabinet, tore up a pillowcase, and let me dress Trudy's hand at the kitchen sink. Trudy was still white and a little wobbly and she flinched when I poured the alcohol on her hand, but not much. After being nailed to a table, alcohol was a treat.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I made my own choices," she said. "You don't know where the money is, do you, Hap?"

I didn't answer.

"If you do, don't tell them. They're going to kill us anyway. Let's don't give them the satisfaction of the money. Scum like this, they'll buy drugs, sell them to kids if they can make a dime."

"Hey," Soldier said. "Quit the debate. Happy Man's giving me the money. And I tell you, it's not so bad a kid or two's got some dope, way things are. Little dope's better than some things. Let's roll."

I wrapped the strips of pillowcase tight around her hand.

Blood spotted through it in a matter of seconds, but it was the best I could do.

"Everybody out into the great outdoors," Soldier said. He went over to the couch to prod Howard with the barrel of his automatic, but Howard didn't move. Soldier bent and put his head to Howard's chest.

"This one's checked out. Shit, I hit guys harder than that before and they didn't die."

'' You sonofabitch,'' Trudy said. " You sorry sonofabitch.''

"You hadn't dug up the money and moved it on old Howard, he'd be with us today," Soldier said. "But no, you got to be the smart bitch. Then you got to get a nail through your hand for nothing, cause old Happy Man here is going to lead me to the dough anyway."

"He doesn't know where it is," Trudy said.

"Yes I do," I said. "I figured it out."

"You better have," Soldier said, "or it's going to sound like the Fourth of July around here for about a minute. Let's go."

Soldier got his umbrella and put his hat on. I put an arm around Trudy, and Soldier waved Leonard in close to us and the three of us led out, Paco, Angel, and Soldier close behind.

Outside, the blowing rain and sleet had stopped, but it was cold and wet and there was the sound of thunder. I bent over and kissed Trudy next to her ear, whispered, "Just follow my lead."

"No talking," Soldier said. "You get to talking, I get nervous. I like to do the talking."

I walked straight to the barn. When we were inside, I let go of Trudy and she wobbled, but Leonard stepped in and held her up. I went over and got the shovel where Soldier had tossed it.

I started outside again.

"It's not in here?" Soldier said. "We got to go back out in that shit?"

I didn't say anything. I went out and Leonard followed, helping Trudy. The armed trio followed us. I went straight to Switch's pen, and when Leonard saw where I was going, he picked up his speed slightly. I stopped in front of the pen, and Switch came out of his house and walked cautiously toward me.

"You all right now," Leonard said to Trudy.

"I'm all right," she said. "I can stand just fine."

Leonard let go of her and came over to the dog pen and said, "Switch, ol' buddy."

Switch came over and Leonard looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I knew then he understood what I was up to.

"What's with stopping to pet the mutt?" Soldier said. "You on vacation here?"

"The money's here," I said. "One of these pens. I don't know which one, but one. When she came back that night, the second time, she had dog shit on her shoes. This is the most likely place for her to get it. I think she buried it in one of these pens."

"Think?" Soldier said.

"You can just about count on it," I said.

"You got to count on it," Soldier said. "Paco, what you think?"

"Could be," Paco said. "Probably is."

"Angel?" Soldier said.

Angel shrugged.

"What am I asking you for?" Soldier said. "You got your three squares, one of those protein milkshakes, some barbells, you're happy, aren't you?"

Angel's expression didn't change.

"You could be one of those things," Soldier said. "What is it I'm trying to say here, Angel? Like a robot kind of."

"Android," she said.

"Yeah, one of them. You know, sometimes you give me the willies."

I opened the dog pen and reached in and got hold of Switch's collar and said, "Good dog." I pulled him out. I could feel his muscles bunching at the smell of all these strangers.

"Whatda you doing?" Soldier said.

"Getting him out of the way so I can dig," I said. "Leonard, hold him."

Leonard reached over and held him and took a step backwards and pulled the dog after him, stuck out his free hand and touched Soldier's shoulder and said, "Ow!"

It was all Switch needed, thinking Leonard was hurt. He twisted in Leonard's grip and Leonard let go and Switch leapt straight into Soldier and Soldier dropped his umbrella and threw up his arm. The dog hit him hard as a mallet, teeth flashing.

I had already started toward the group with the shovel cocked, and when Switch hit Soldier and Soldier yelled, Angel and Paco turned their heads, and I brought the shovel around with all my might and caught Angel on the side of the neck with the edge of it and it was like hitting a concrete piling. She went down on one knee and her gun arm dropped to her side and her neck split open and lashed a band of blood into the cold air and rain.

Leonard stepped behind Soldier and the dog, pivoted on his left foot and spun around, fast, and his right leg went up, and at the same instant Paco raised his gun and leveled it, Leonard’s foot caught him in the back of the head, low, and Paco snapped forward and the gun went off but didn't hit anyone.

Next instant Paco was face down on the ground with his butt humping like a worm trying to crawl.

Leonard's heel kick had broken Paco's neck.

Switch had Soldier down and his teeth buried in Soldier's arm. He was dragging him backwards on the muddy ground, gnawing as he went, tearing jacket and shirt and meat beneath.

I brought the shovel around again and hit Angel solidly on top of the head and she dropped her gun and went down on her hands as if to do a push-up. I started to go for her gun but Soldier managed to put his automatic to Switch's head and pull the trigger. Switch jerked, then was on the ground thrashing. Soldier was getting up on one knee now, his hat was gone and his glasses dangled from one ear.

He gritted his teeth, lifted the .45, and pointed it at Trudy.

Trudy hadn't moved through all of this, but I was moving. I grabbed her around the waist, jerked her to the side and the bullet went by us. As I turned, I saw Leonard sprint behind the dog pens toward the creek and saw Angel scramble for her gun. I got hold of Trudy like she was a sack of potatoes and ran zigzag toward the creek.

Trudy was too much for me and I dropped her. There was a sudden sensation as if someone punched me in the right side with the end of a fence post. I went down on one knee and yelled, "Run!" Then I was up again, and Trudy was already moving, long legs flying. She went over the creek-bank and into the water just ahead of me. There was another snap of gunfire, then I was in the creek right behind Trudy, splashing water, running for all I was worth. The brush on the sides of the bank grew thicker as we headed into the greater woods.

Back toward the house I heard several shots and a dog yelp and Soldier yelling. I was surprised they weren't on us right away, and wondered if they had gone after Leonard.

As I ran, pain crawled inside me looking for a place to live. I felt as if my very soul were easing out of me, falling into the water, washing away.

But when I looked down, I saw what was oozing out of me into the water was not my soul.

It was blood.

Chapter 27

I wasn't exactly making the best time in the world, and Trudy wasn't much of a runner to begin with. I could hear Angel and Soldier thrashing through the water behind us. They sounded some distance back, but they were gaining rapidly. Angel had the constitution of a horse and a head like an iron skillet. Soldier had popped poor old Howard half as hard and only once, and he hadn't survived.

I caught up with Trudy and grabbed her by the elbow and pointed to the bank. We climbed out of the water and crawled into a mess of leafless brambles and through that and into a grove of pines and sweetgums.

We hadn't gone far, when I had to sit down. I found a sweetgum and put my back against that and eased myself to my ass. Trudy, breathing heavily, squatted beside me and looked at my side. My coat was bloody and I could feel the blood cooling and sticking my shirt to my skin.

"Oh, Hap," Trudy said.

I put a finger to my lips. I could hear Soldier and Angel splashing water in the creek. They went past us and kept splashing.

When I thought they were reasonably out of the way, I spoke softly. "Your hand. How is it?"

"Numb," she said. "Mostly it's shock. But that's passing some. All things considered, I'm all right."

"Well, I'm not. Help me up."

She got her good hand under my arm and I pushed up and leaned on her a minute. "We got to make the Robin Hood Tree."

"What?"

"Trust me."

It wasn't far from where we were, but it felt like a mile. My side had little feeling in it at first, but now it was as if someone had heated up a jack handle and was sticking it into me, stirring it around.

We went through deeper woods and promptly broke into a clearing, and there in its center was the massive oak that Leonard and I called the Robin Hood Tree. Sitting down, his back against it, was Leonard.

We walked up to him and he opened his eyes and looked at us. "If you'd been Angel or that other geek, I'd be dead."

"You're hit?"

"Caught me in the back, low, to the right. Came out the side of my leg here." He touched his right thigh gently. "Bone turned the slug, I guess. It was Angel shot me. bitch is good. I was well on the run, ahead of you two, going into the woods along the creek. Thought I had it made."

I squatted down beside him, wiped cold sweat off his forehead with my fingers, rubbed it on my pants. "It'll be all right, Leonard."

"Damn right it will," he said. "I been worse. . . . Shit, man, you're hit too."

"High in the side, came out the front here," I said. "I'm scared to look, but—"

"You been worse," Leonard said.

"Right."

"Trudy," Leonard said, "you've had yourself quite a time playing revolutionary, haven't you?"

"I believe what I believe," she said. "None of this changes anything."

"This," Leonard said, "isn't over. But I got to hand it to you, had it been me and Soldier had brought out that hammer, I'd have sang like a parakeet."

A freezing rain came slanting through the trees from the north and hit the clearing, then the oak and us.

"We stay here, we'll freeze," I said.

"Can't we go through the woods?" Trudy said. "It's got to stop somewhere."

"It stops, all right," I said. "Several miles later. As cold and close to dark as it is, I don't think me and Leonard could make it with these wounds."

"Trudy maybe could make it," Leonard said. "Get some help."

"I don't know the woods," Trudy said. "I'd be going in circles before I was out of sight of this tree."

"Doubt we'd survive till you got back anyway," I said. "If Soldier and Angel didn't find us, we'd most likely freeze or bleed to death. We can go wide to the main road, or back to the house. Chance Soldier and Angel being gone right now. Get Leonard's car and haul out."

"It's got to be that for me," Leonard said. "I go too far in any direction, maybe even back to the house, and I'll be growing grass over me come spring."

"We might wait them out," Trudy said.

"We'd be icicles first," Leonard said. "And besides, I got

a rifle in the trunk of the car, a target pistol in the house. They could be some insurance."

"Then it's settled," I said.

"Hap, break me off a limb," Leonard said. "Got to have a crutch."

I had to go easy, but I walked until I came to a sweetgum at the edge of the clearing, got hold of a two-inch limb and pulled on it. I felt as if my guts were being wrenched out, but I kept at it until I heard it crack, then I swung on it until I got it so I could twist it off. It had a couple of whispy limbs on it, and I managed to break those off underfoot. It wasn't going to make a comfortable crutch, but by hooking it in the crook of his arm, it might do. It had a kind of point on the end too, where I had twisted it off, and I thought that would be good, something he could push into the ground.

Trudy helped me get Leonard up. He got the stick positioned and tried it and it worked well enough.

"Don't wait on me," he said. "One of us has got to get back to the house and the car, get some help."

"It's all or nothing," Trudy said.

Chapter 28

We eased forward, wide of the creek, broke through the woods and out into the clearing where the house was visible through the ever-thickening slants of icy rain. To make matters worse, the wind had picked up and was driving the rain against us as if it were frozen needles. I felt feverish, and as if something important had broken inside me. Everything was a little surreal. I was still losing blood.

We huddled together, me and Trudy on either side of Leonard, helping him along. He looked like something for a pine box and six feet of dirt.

I thought about Soldier and Angel, realized that if they had come back by the creek, they could already be at the house, waiting. But if we could get to car and get it started . . . That was thinking too far ahead.

Keep walking. One foot in front of the other and this fever is the heat of the sun and it's mid-July and the fish are biting and the grass is going brown and the trees are wilting like overworked washerwomen. Yes sir, it's not cold, it's hot, it's hot, gimmea left. Left. Adaleft, left, left, adaleft, left, had a good home but I left, left. Hell, maybe I shouldn't have fought the draft. I had the march down. Then I realized I was talking out loud, and I shut up and zeroed in on the dog pens and made for them, tried not to think about Soldier or Angel or that they might be waiting for us to come into range so they could spray the place with our brains. It would be quicker and better than dying slowly in the woods from the wet cold.

Next thing I knew we were at the dog pens, and I understood why we had gotten as much of a head start on them as we had, saw what all that shooting we heard was about. Leonard's dogs. In his fury, Soldier had killed them all.

"That motherfucker," Leonard said. "I ever get the chance, half the chance, he's a dead cocksucker. Dead."

Paco lay where we had left him. He was face down, on his knees, his head bent under him, as if folded. That had been some kick. His false teeth lay over in the mud near Soldier's open umbrella, mashed porkpie and the shovel. Trudy turned Paco over to see if his gun was still under him, but Soldier, though stupid, wasn't that stupid.

"I wasn't on this stick," Leonard said, "I'd go over and kick that fucker till he came back to life."

"Go straight for your car," I said.

We did. The car was parked at the side of the house, near the front porch, where it had been left when brought out by the Ice Birds, as Leonard called them.

Leonard worked the keys out of his pants pocket and Trudy opened the car door and Leonard slid in and tried to start it. Nothing. It didn't even click.

I went around and opened the hood. Doing it made me feel as if my intestines were falling out of me, but when I looked inside, I knew our problem wasn't the weather, and I understood Soldier's and Angel's delay in pursuing us even better.

They had taken the distributor cap. I limped over to the mini-van and looked under its hood. Same thing. And the Lincoln. And the Volvo. I thought about checking the Volkswagen in the barn, but I couldn't believe they'd leave it undone, not after taking time for the others. Besides, I didn't feel as if I could make it to the barn.

"The rifle," Leonard said.

I got his keys and limped around there with Trudy, and was about to unlock the trunk when there was a crack and the back glass of Leonard's car exploded into jagged stars. I saw Soldier and Angel coming up over the bank. They were covered in mud from the feet to the knees. Their faces were red and limb-whipped. Not happy campers. They were still a good distance away and not moving at top speed due to the cold blasting rain, but those guns gave them a lot of reach.

I whirled to run and there was another shot, and Trudy, who was slightly in front of me, threw out her hands and went face down. I grabbed her by the coat collar and started yelling for Leonard and there was another shot, smaller caliber, the .38. Then I was dragging Trudy toward the front porch of the house, my wound making my insides jump hard against my bones, and Leonard was limping behind. I heard him let out a grunt and I glanced back and saw him go down on one knee and saw blood flowing out of him to be washed across the cold ground in a dark wave; saw too that Soldier and Angel were coming on hard and fast.

Leonard scrambled for his stick and screamed himself up and yelled something at me that the pounding rain took away, and then I had Trudy pulled up on the porch and my shoulder took a bullet and I grunted and opened the door and hauled her halfway inside and staggered back for Leonard.

He almost ran over me before I could get off the porch. He let out a yell and I felt a punch in my chest and I grabbed him and swung him through the door and he and his stick went sliding across the floor. I fast-limped in, got hold of Trudy and pulled her all the way inside and slammed the door and locked it and Soldier hit it with his body and yelled. I thought Angel would hit it next, take it off its hinges, but that didn't happen. There was silence. And that was more frightening than the noise. I made my way across the room and into the kitchen, to the back door. I locked it just before the knob began to rattle and Soldier began to cuss. He fired two shots, quick succession, through the door about head high. I was just enough out of the way and the slugs slammed into the wall and picked a crock pot off a shelf and sent pieces of it all over.

I stumbled toward the living room, and as I passed the kitchen window, two more shots punched at the glass and threw up the curtains and slammed into the wall, but I was out of there and into the living room.

I avoided the window in the living room by getting low. I went over to Leonard. He was on the floor. Blood was running out of his leg and just below his ribs. That would be the shot that hit him on the porch and went through and got me too, but not bad. Leonard had taken most of that one. The ones in my right side and shoulder, those were the sonofabitches. The one in my lower right chest was just picking at me.

Leonard had taken off his jacket and pulled off his shirt and was tying it around his leg, trying to stop the blood from pumping out. He had never lost his stick, and he took hold of it again, tight.

Soldier was at the side of the house yelling. "Come on out, it's all over. Bam. A bullet in the head. You don't come out, I'm going to take some time with you."

I crawled around in front of the couch where poor dead Howard lay, and got a look at Trudy. The front of her jacket was a dark wet explosion where the bullet had come out.

Viscera poked through the hole in the jacket. My face explained things to Leonard.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Not a thing you can do."

I tried using my hand to close her eyes but I couldn't get her lids to go down. It seemed very important that her eyes close so I wouldn't have to look at them, but the lids just wouldn't do it.

Two shots whizzed through the living room window and struck the fireplace mantel and ricocheted into something I couldn't identify. Arctic rain came through and hit my face and mixed with the tears on my cheeks. I found it almost pleasant.

"You with me, Hap?" Leonard said.

"Yeah," I said, but I wasn't so sure. It was as if my center of gravity had shifted.

"One time," Soldier yelled, "I caught me this nigger trying to do me on a drug deal. I took him out and nailed his balls to a stump and left him there. With a sharp knife. Hear me in there, nigger?"

"Just a couple of licks on him with this," Leonard said, shaking the stick. "That's all I ask."

"The target pistol?" I said.

"In the nightstand by the bed. Not loaded. Shells are there in a box ... Hell, Hap. I got it bad."

"Hang on, buddy."

Soldier was quiet out there. Not a good sign.

"Look here, now," I said. "I'm going to get the pistol. You been worse, right?"

"Oh yeah."

To keep away from stray bullets, I crawled behind the couch and through the open door to the bedroom. I went like that until I was almost to the nightstand, but I never made it. I stopped crawling when I reached a pair of jogging shoes. With Angel's feet in them.

Chapter 29

I looked up and there was her snubnose .38 and above it her impassive face with the right side and top of her forehead swollen all out of proportion from my shovel blows. One eye was almost closed. She looked like a Neanderthal. Behind her the bedroom window was up and the curtains flapped in the freezing wind above the bed and there were muddy footprints on the sheets.

She pulled the trigger on the .38.

It was empty.

She knew that.

Bitch.

She whipped her hand around and whacked me on the side of the head with the gun, tossed it away, grabbed me by the coat and pulled me up. A network of pain went through my wounds and some new connections were found.

She kneed me in the nuts, tossed me backwards with a yell.

I hurtled through the open door and fell on my side in the living room behind the couch. Outside, I heard Soldier yell. "Angel? Angel?"

I rolled and tried to get up, but she got me by the collar and picked me up and tossed me over the couch. I rolled on my back and she leaned over the couch and grabbed Howard by his coat and crotch, and more shoved than threw him at me. He landed on his stomach across my legs.

She started around the couch making deep strides and I kicked out from under Howard and got unsteadily to my feet.

"Watch her, watch her," Leonard yelled, as if I might decide to go take in a little TV. When she came around the couch, she kicked at Leonard, who was doing his damnedest to get up, caught him a glancing blow on the head. But he wasn't her main target. He seemed for the most part incapacitated. And she hadn't forgotten me and that shovel.

She reached for me and I shot out a left jab and her head went back and her nose broke open and spouted blood. I hit her again, and again. Good jabs.

She stepped in and grabbed me and whipped me up and around and I fell back on the couch. She came down on top of me and I squirmed out from under her, caught her under the arm and twisted her on her back, straddled her and hit her with a hard left-right combination. Her face was nothing but blood now.

She slammed her forearms into my sides, sending tentacles of pain into my side wound. I fell back on the floor, trying but unable to scream. Next thing I knew she was on top of me, slamming me in the face with her fists. I couldn't think, couldn't get oriented, couldn't fight back.

Then something long and dark and sharp came into view and it pushed back Angel's head and blood ran onto my face.

Leonard had rolled across the floor and shoved the broken end of his stick into her right eye.

She stood up stiffly. The stick stuck out of her face a full four feet, but it was firm in her head. She didn't take hold of it. She managed to step over me and start toward the fireplace, but got her feet tangled in Howard's legs and went face down. Most of her body landed on the couch, but her head missed and the stick in her eye hit the floor and the back of her head cocked up slightly but sharply, stayed that way.

Then there was a thrashing at the living room window. Soldier had the shovel and was using it to knock out what was left of the glass. Before I could get up, the shovel pulled out, and he kicked out the frame, stooped, and stepped inside, the .45 in front of him. Leonard, still lying on the floor, reached out and caught Soldier's ankle before his foot was firmly planted, sent him stumbling forward, but he got his feet under him again and went past Leonard and caught his foot on Trudy's outstretched arm and fell all the way this time, and when he hit I rolled and fought the explosions in my body and chopped down on his wrist with the edge of my hand. His fingers popped wide like a startled starfish, and the gun went sliding, and he crawled for it, but I got him around the neck and tried to choke him. He made it up to his knees and I went up on my knees too, and I tightened my forearm around his throat and tried to squeeze the life out of him. He pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked it open one-handed and brought it up and slashed me at the crook of my elbow, but I didn't let go, so he did it again, and this time I did.

I scuttled toward the living room window on my hands and knees, saw Leonard lying there, finally too much out of blood to move, and then I twisted and got up on one knee and Soldier was there, slashing at my face. I caught the blade in my hand and the slash went deep in my thumb and scraped on bone. I tried to get my legs under me and get up, but something had finally gone really bad inside me, and I couldn't.

Soldier jerked the blade back and cut me again that way, but I didn't feel it right then, and I dove forward and put my head between his legs and grabbed him behind the knees and popped my head up and caught him in the balls with the back of it and snatched his legs out from under him. His head hit the floor hard. Real hard. I crawled on top of him and got hold of his knife hand with my good left hand, twisted his thumb back and made him let go.

I picked up the knife and put it to his throat. All I had to do was thrust and rip. Hadn't this goddamned out-of-state racist asshole tried to kill me?

He looked at me through those pathetic glasses and I thought of this gawky, sweaty-faced bastard as a kid with a father who slapped his ear into a cauliflower and had convinced him it was for his own good and that dear old kid-beating, wife-beating dad was a good man that demanded respect. And in that same fleeting instant I remembered that I had not gone to war because I didn't want to kill needlessly for a cause I didn't believe in. And here we didn't even have a cause. Just a sad fuck-up without any hope.

I got off of him and held the knife close and said, "Roll on your stomach, Soldier, or I'll kill you."

"Easy," he said. "I got a bad dog bite here."

He rolled on his stomach. I cut his coat from the collar to the center of his back, then pulled the sleeves down so they caught at his elbows. I cut strips from his pants legs and tied his wrists. I cut the back of his pants open so I could pull them down around his knees. I took off his tennis shoes and used his shoestrings to tie his ankles. I rolled his socks up tight, lifted his head, and forced them in his mouth, just in case he might want to talk. I'd heard all of him I ever wanted to hear.

Leonard was trying to sit up. I closed the knife and put it in my pocket and helped him to a sitting position so he could lean against the front door.

"You should have killed him," Leonard said.

"I know."

"It's going to complicate things."

"I know."

"Same ol'Hap."

I made a concentrated effort to rise, and had to use the edge of the couch for support, but I made it. Falling down only twice, I got to the place where the phone ought to have been, saw that it had been pulled out of the wall and tossed on the floor near the kitchen table. Soldier or Angel in their haste had made an effort to disable it, way they had the cars. I grunted and cussed on over there, took hold of it, held my heart in my mouth while I examined it. The little connection at the end of the wire was cracked from being ripped out of the wall and the phone had been thrown down hard enough to knock the back off and let the guts out, but the guts themselves appeared to be in tact. Looked to me they had been in too big a hurry to do the job right. I hoped.

I shoved the phone's insides back into place and crawled over to the wall connection and snapped the clip into place and tried to hold my mouth just right while I punched O. The operator came on the line after three rings and I had her connect me to the sheriff's office. I told them what I thought they ought to know and hung up. The phone was slick with the blood from my cut hand.

I crawled back to the door and sat up next to Leonard.

"We better come up with some story," Leonard said.

I thought awhile. I put my mouth to his ear so Soldier couldn't hear.

"That's for shit," he said.

"Got one better?"

He shook his head. "Hap, you know I told you I been worse?"

"Yeah."

"I lied."

"Me too," I said. "We gonna make it?”

“I am," I said.

Leonard tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. He opened his hand. I took it and held it.

Chapter 30

I remember coming awake on the way to the hospital in the ambulance, and there being a man from the sheriff’s office there. He was determined to have some kind of statement. I think I gave him one. After that, things got hazy, then things got white and there was this light and people bending over me, then I was out again. When I awoke it was to sunlight shining through a hospital window.

A nurse came in and spoke to me and gave me some water and sat me up in bed so I could see out the window better, and later on she came back with an orderly and a wheelchair and they got me in that and pushed me over by the window for an even better look.

I sat and looked out on the hospital lawn. The bad, wet weather was gone and the sun was out and the trees on the big lawn were moving gently in the wind. It was probably a cold wind, but certainly nothing like the way things had been. I wanted to take that as some sort of sign of good things to come, but it wasn't long after that the doctor came in and he had a big man with him in a long black coat and another big man dressed up in hat and boots and the standard issue that the sheriff's office gives out.

The doctor was a little man with a bland face and thinning blond hair. He stood with his hands in front of him, left palm over right. He made me think of a preacher, way he stood there. He was very polite. He said, "Mr. Collins, I'm Dr. Dumas. You know, you been out three days."

"Three days?"

"That's right. And I got to tell you, you're a lucky man."

"I don't feel so lucky," I said.

The man from the sheriff's office took off his cowboy hat and showed me a vein-riddled bald head. He went over to the corner and leaned there. The big man in the long coat took the single chair and pulled it around so that he was straddling it. Both he and the sheriff's man had their eyes on me.

"You're lucky nonetheless. Fraction of an inch here, a fraction there, it could have made quite a difference. One bullet went in your back, just above your buttocks, about here, but it caught the fatty part and turned and came out on the right side in front of your hipbone. One in your shoulder tore some muscles, but punched on through. There was a slug lodged just under your skin, right below your sternum, slightly to the right. You weren't too bad to patch up."

"What about Leonard?" I said.

"Medical science has something to do with Mr. Pine's survival, but his constitution may be more amazing even than yours. But he won't be up and around as soon as you are. He's got some nasty internal injuries* and his leg, well, I don't know. He'll keep it, but he may not walk well on it."

"My compliments to you, Dr. Dumas."

"That's my job. These men are here to ask you a few questions," Dr. Dumas said. "I'll let them introduce themselves."

Dr. Dumas went out.

The man in the long coat said, "I'm Jack Divit." The man from the sheriff's office didn't introduce himself. He looked around the room like he was bored.

Divit said, "I'm with the FBI. Sheriff’s office has a statement from you, and now that you're feeling better, we'd like one too. You don't mind going through it again, do you?"

I took a shallow breath and started telling it the way Leonard and I agreed to tell it.

"My ex-wife. Trudy Fawst. She came around and said she had a job for me and Leonard. She wanted us to recover a boat for her and some other people and if we did they'd pay us some money."

"They tell you why they wanted to recover the boat?"

"No. It didn't matter. It was a job. We recovered the boat and it had lots of money in it in watertight canisters. They didn't want to pay us then and they took us with them, said they'd let us go later. Turned out they were going to use the money to buy guns so they could be revolutionaries, you know. Silly idea. One of their bunch, guy named Paco, was out to make his own score and he hooked them up with a guy named Soldier, woman named Angel. There weren't any guns and Trudy didn't bring any money along, except for five thousand dollars. She said the rest was at Leonard's and we ended up going back there, only there wasn't any money and things got out of hand. "

"What about this money?" the man from the sheriffs department said. "You say you saw some money, then there wasn't but the five thousand."

"I don't know. There looked to be more than five thousand. I wasn't counting. If there was more, I don't know what happened to it.'"

"This guy, Soldier," Divit said. "He tells a different story."

"Does he? How is old Soldier?"

"Physically, pretty good," Divit said. "But you see, he's a boy we been wanting to see for a long time. He's got a record."

"Imagine that."

"He's got some bad things to his credit. Drugs. Arms. Murder. Rape. Been busy. This Angel that was with him, she wasn't exactly for the church choir either. But still, Soldier tells it different. He says there's some money. Says it was some kind of holdup money this Howard fella knew about. Says you were all trying to score."

"I told you what I know," I said. "I don't know where the money came from originally or what they did with it. Howard claimed it was buried on Leonard's place, but Trudy, before she died, told me different."

"She told you where it was?" Divit said.

"Nope. She said it wasn't on Leonard's place. That was just a lie she told Soldier to stall. You'd seen this guy in action, you'd have lied to him too if you thought it would save you. He's a real animal. But the bottom line is she told me it was gone forever."

"What do you think she meant by that, Mr. Collins?"

"I got the impression she was trying to tell me it was destroyed. She might have been out of her head then. She'd had a nail driven through her hand, lots of shock, you know."

"Yeah," Divit said. "That shock's bad stuff. But what Soldier says, it matches some facts. And this Paco guy, he turns out to be a big-time revolutionary, head of the Mechanics. We thought he was dead since way back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And Soldier says this Paco told him this money was from a bank robbery some years back. Guy named McCall headlined it. Howard, he was in prison with this McCall. Lot of ties, huh? This money, the five thousand we recovered at your friend's house, it's clean money. Means it might not be stolen. Means too it might have been laundered and can't be traced. And Soldier, amount he's claiming Paco said there was, is a lot more than was robbed from that bank. Dirty business all the way around."

"I got this feeling," I said, "Soldier might tell a story."

"That occurred to me," Divit said. "Also occurred to me those bank officials might story some."

"A banker lie?"

"Yeah, who'd believe that?" Divit said. "Then you're saying you don't think we got cause to believe Soldier's story?"

"Not all of it. Sounds to me he's trying to work me and Leonard into this for vengeful purposes. You wouldn't want to take the word of a scum like Soldier over my word, would you?"

"You got a little record yourself," the man from the Sheriffs office said.

"Forget that," Divit said. "That's no kind of record."

The man from the sheriff’s office didn't look offended. He got out his pocket knife and went to cleaning his nails.

Divit paused and looked me over. "Listen, Collins. Your friend, the war hero, Pine, he tells it like you tell it. I guess that's a better story than the one Soldier's telling. But if that money turns up, you'd let me know, wouldn't you?"

"You'd be the first," I said. "We going to trial for anything?"

"You don't end up in the middle of a slaughterhouse like that and not have to do a lot of talking. But you got a good case for self-defense. You'll be loose in a few days. Get you a pretty good ambulance chaser, and you'll do all right."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Divit said. "Don't thank me for nothing."

Couple days later they let me limp down to Leonard's room. He was full of tubes and wires. Those bags they hang on those bars were all over the place, thick as fruit on trees. I hadn't expected him to look as bad as he did.

He had his head turned to me. "Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"You all right?"

"Good enough. I'm going home pretty quick. I don't know I've got enough insurance for all this."

"Man, I lay here and think about my dogs. About old Chub too. Got to considering, he bought the big one standing up for me. Well, maybe not me, but for an idea. I guess if he'd known Soldier was that nuts he'd shut up, but, you know, he maybe wasn't such a bad guy. . . . Hap, what I said about you not really being my type? Remember?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I just wanted you to know, I meant it."

I laughed.

Three days later they let me go home. I talked to Divit again, but it was a conversation not too unlike the other. He said he felt certain Soldier would get some years for a lot of things. Quite a few years. Like maybe three lifetimes. He mentioned the money again, about how if it showed up I'd keep my promise about letting him know.

I lied to him again.

I went home for a couple of days and rested, then I drove over to Leonard's. Calvin had left his spare key in the hiding spot, and I took it and went inside. All the crime scene stuff was gone and it had been cleaned up some.

Calvin had buried the dogs and nailed plywood over the busted windows. I went out to the barn and looked around. The shovel that had killed Howard and that I had used to zing Angel wasn't around. Maybe the cops called it a clue. I found a hoe, took that and limped out to the creekbank. On the way over there I noted where a lot of digging had been going on. The holes had been filled carefully and leveled off, but it didn't fool me. A country boy knows about digging and dirt, and those holes were fresh. I wondered if Divit had been here to supervise. I wondered if they had found the money. If so, I might be talking to them again and have to lie some more.

But it wasn't likely. I had an edge they didn't have. I had some idea of where it was supposed to be.

I went along the bank and found the part where the gravel had been put down. I looked around there but didn't see anyplace where she might have dug.

I guess I stayed at that for a couple of hours, looking around like that, digging a spot or two on a whim, but I didn't come up with anything. I got down on the very edge of the creek and tried to think like Trudy might have thought, out here in the freezing weather with a flashlight and a shovel, trying to be quick and smart about it. I went back to the barn and took a straight path from the back door to the creekbank, walked down it to where the gravel was, then went over the edge and right up against where the water ran.

All right. Don't think about the gravel and clay except as a guide. She came here and started shining her light around. Maybe she shined it across to the other side. I looked and didn't see any dig spots, but I saw an armadillo hole in the side of the opposite bank. Roots from trees partially exposed by erosion draped over it.

I jumped the little creek and went over and looked in the hole. There was dirt not far down in the hole, so that proved the armadillo didn't live there anymore. Nothing lived there anymore. I raked back the dirt and looked inside. There were several plastic bags.

I reached in and took them out. They were those sealable bags. I stuffed my coat pockets with them, took the hoe to the barn, and went back to the house. I felt surprisingly casual.

Neither the FBI nor the sheriffs department were waiting in the kitchen.

I sat down at the table and put the money on it. When I reached for one of the packets to open it, I saw the nail hole where Trudy's hand had been. I put my hand over it and centered it about where I thought the hole was.

Poor Trudy.

I opened the bags and poured out the money and counted it. There was a little over three hundred and fifty thousand. Subtract the five thousand the authorities had, and you were still short, but not much. Trudy might have rough-counted that night, or maybe Paco palmed a little. It didn't matter.

I put a hundred thousand in one bag. It was a tight fit. I got up and got a big black trash bag out from under Leonard's sink, looked through the drawers till I found a big grocery bag and some package tape and scissors. I went back to the table and sat down. I put the rest of the money in the plastic bags and put all of it, excluding that one hundred thousand, into the trash bag. I folded the bag down and around the money and made a nice compact bundle. I opened the paper bag, put the trash bag in and folded the paper bag around it, used some package tape and the scissors to make a nice parcel.

I got up again and looked around until I found a black marker. I went over and wrote in big bold letters on the package, GREENPEACE. I'd have to look up the rest of the address later, but seeing it written made me feel pretty good. It wasn't what Trudy had planned to do with it, but what she had planned had ultimately been in the support of things like that. I liked to think she would be proud of me. After all that talk Leonard and I had given about not giving to the seals or whales, I thought there was a certain pleasant irony in it all.

The hundred thousand was for Leonard. He'd need it when he came home. If the insurance didn't pay his hospital bills, it wouldn't do him much good, high as they are, but it could give him eating money until he could go back to work.

I put the hundred thousand in my coat pocket and stuffed the package under the couch. Not exactly ace hiding places, but I figured they'd do until I got home and could do better. And besides, it had all been laundered. Who was to say it was stolen money? How was it to be proved? Greenpeace could spend that dough good as they could anyone's.

I put on Leonard's Hank Williams album, 40 Greatest Hits, Volume 2, turned it up. I got one of Leonard's pipes and some spare tobacco off the fireplace mantel, packed the pipe and lit it. I dragged his rocking chair out to the front porch and sat there and puffed the pipe until I remembered why I didn't smoke. I thumped out the tobacco and continued to sit there in the cold afternoon, listening to Hank Williams, occasionally flipping the record, and feeling the cold get colder.

It came to me as I sat there that Trudy, for all her blind idealism, had at least been on the right track, heading for the right station, but she got derailed.

Me, I didn't even have a station in my life anymore. It was like she said, I lived from day to day and thought it was good. But she had shown me something about heart and soul again, and I knew why it was I always went with her. At the bottom of it all, she believed that things could be better than they are. That life wasn't just a game to get through. I had believed that way once, and lost it, and that's why, in spite of myself, I had always liked her coming around, no matter what it did to me. She made me believe that human beings could really make a difference. In the end, her way of doing it was as bad or worse than those she was against, but the idealism was there.

Knowing what I knew now, I could never feel exactly the way I had. I was too experienced and too practical to go back to seeing life through rose-colored glasses, or think you could figure out life's solutions with paper and a slide rule.

But to lose my idealism, to quit believing in the ability of human beings to rise above their baser instincts, was to become old and bitter and of no service to anyone, not even myself.

Idealism was a little like Venus in the daytime. There'd been a time when I could see it. But as time went on and I needed it less and wanted to pass on the responsibility, I had lost my ability to see it, to believe it. But now I thought I might see it again if I made an effort and looked hard enough.

I went inside and flipped the record for the umpteenth time, turned it all the way up, and went back and moved the rocking chair to the yard, pulled my coat around me and looked up at the sky, tried to pick out Venus before the day gave out and it got dark.