34.
Amber was sitting cross-legged on the daybed, smoking a joint, while Esteban talked on his cell phone. They were alone in the garage with the huge television screen. The TV was on but silent. They both liked to smoke a joint and watch TV without sound.
“It’ll be in the Boston papers, man, you want to go online and see,” Esteban said.
He stood in the doorway with his back to Amber, looking down his alley.
“Yeah, I know you’ll pay. I still got the other package to deliver.”
Amber watched the shapes move on the silent screen. She knew Esteban was talking to someone, and she could hear the words he said, but the words weren’t real. What was real were the endlessly fascinating shapes.
“When I get the dough, I’ll ship the package,” Esteban said.
Amber took in some smoke and held it for a time before she eased it out. The colors on the huge television were very bright and had a kind of inviting density to them. She’d never realized quite how inviting they were.
“Sure it’s a lot, man, but I can’t just stick it on a plane, you know? I mean, it’s gotta be driven down there. And somebody gotta go along with it, you know? I mean, it ain’t gonna want to go at all, man. I gotta see to it that it does.”
Amber took another toke. The movement and the colors tended to blend into something. She didn’t know what. But it made her feel religious.
“Yeah, man,” Esteban said. “You call me when you see the news about Momma. We’ll arrange the other delivery.”
He shut the cell phone off and came to the couch.
“You believe in God, Esteban?” Amber said.
She offered him her half-smoked joint.
“Sure, baby,” Esteban said, “long as he believes in me.”
“You believe in the devil?”
“Baby,” Esteban said. “I am the devil.”
Amber giggled. Esteban took a toke and passed the nearly burned-out roach to Amber. She finished it.
“I like to drink wine when we smoke a joint.”
Amber was watching the colors. She didn’t move. Esteban gave her a smart slap on the side of her butt.
“You gonna get us some wine?” he said.
Amber stood up.
“You don’t have to hit so hard,” Amber said.
“Told you, baby, I’m the devil.”
She giggled happily and went to the refrigerator, and came back with a jug of white wine. She put out two unmatched water glasses and filled each one with the jug wine. There were four more joints rolled and lying beside a box of kitchen matches on the wooden crate that served as a side table. Esteban drank some wine and lit another joint.
“You talking to my daddy?” Amber said.
“Yeah, we was arranging the payoff for putting Momma down.”
“Bye-bye, Momma,” Amber said, and giggled.
“Bye-bye,” Esteban murmured, and sucked in a big lungful of smoke. As it drifted slowly out of his lungs he murmured again, “Bye-bye.”