The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death

TOO TIRED TO BE ALONE

I took a loaf of 99-grain whole wheat that Dot had bought out of the fridge and put a couple slices in the toaster oven.

– Which toothbrush is yours?

I looked at Soledad standing in the hall.

– The yellow one.

– Im gonna use it.

– Sure.

I watched her go into the bathroom, and found some grapes and rinsed them off and put them in a bowl and got a couple small plates and a butter knife and took it all to the table. I looked at the table, remembered wiping it down, sponging away Talbots blood, and changed course and took the breakfast things into the livingroom and set them out on the floor in front of the couch and threw a couple cushions down.

Soledad came out of the bathroom and went into my bedroom and closed the door. The coffeemaker gurgled and I took the pot off and filled two cups. Behind the door Soledad was talking to herself. The toaster oven dinged and I grabbed the two pieces of hot toast by their corners and carried them into the livingroom and set one on each plate. The bedroom door opened as I went back to the kitchen for the cups.

– Got coffee. Milk in yours?

– I called a cab.

I looked at her, face washed, hair pulled back, sunglasses on.

– I need to get going.

I set the cups down.

– Sure.

I looked around the apartment.

– I mean, considering the alternative is Malibu, why stay around here.

She nodded.

– Especially with all the exciting conversations with law enforcement officials I have to look forward to out at the beach.

She pointed at the couch.

– Wheres?

– Dont know. Probably having brunch somewhere. Organic berries and egg whites for Dot, organic espresso and tobacco for Chev.

– Interesting couple, they seemed.

– Id swear it wont last, but I dont know shit about relationships.

She cocked her head.

– A girld never know.

We stood there.

She put her hand on the doorknob.

– So.

– Hang on, Ill walk you out.

I went and grabbed something from my room and we walked down to the curb, the voices of the homeless couple drifting down the street as they worked their way from garbage can to garbage can, removing the recyclables.

– Fuckhead.

– Bitch.

– Asswipe.

– Cocksucker.

Soledad nodded.

– It must be love.

– Sounds like it, doesnt it?

A cab rounded the corner and pulled up.

– This is me.

I took the roll of bills from my pocket.

– Do me a favor, give this to Jaime.

She looked at the money.

– Web. You dont really have to.

I held the money out.

– I told him Id pay him. I promised. I.

– Hell just.

– I dont care. Its his. Maybe itll help. Maybe itll keep him out of trouble for a while.

She shrugged.

– It wont.

She took the money.

– But its a nice thing to do.

She put the money in her handbag.

– OK. So. OK.

She opened the door.

– So look.

She tossed her bag into the cab and looked at the driver.

– Just one more minute, that cool?

He nodded.

She looked at me, pushed her sunglasses firmly against the bridge of her nose.

– Web. Just so were clear. Im. Im a mess.

– Really? Wow, you hide it so well.

– Yes, dont I? But. This isnt, you know, this isnt the normal me. This isnt the way my life normally goes. Im an even-keel girl, you know. But. My dad. My dad. Im not on steady ground. And the way I feel now, I just, I mean, look at the decisions Ive been making the last few days. Its just. My emotions. I, I dont trust them. I dont trust myself to make the right, to make smart choices now. Especially with someone as spectacularly fucked up as you.

I looked at the ground.

– Thanks. Coming from you, that really means something.

– Thought youd appreciate the sentiment.

– Oh, I do, I do.

She picked at the rubber seal along the edge of the cab door.

– Anyway. Im in no shape to get into. Anything. Like. You know. I cant.

– Sure.

– But.

She raised her shoulders and dropped them.

– Im just too tired to be alone with all the crap Im going to have to go through. I dont want to do all this, the police, whatever kind of press, the estate. Jesus, the estate, when my mom starts sniffing around for her cut? Thats gonna be a shit storm. And I dont want to be alone with all that. I dont want to sleep alone. I want someone to call. I want a friend. I want a lover. I dont want to do this alone. I want help.

She took my little finger and squeezed it.

– And I think youre the nice guy. I mean, I know you have a huge asshole in permanent residence inside, but I think youre the nice guy.

She leaned over the top of the door and kissed me.

– So Im just gonna have to hope Im right about that.

She got in the cab.

– Cause Im too tired to do anything else.

I put my hands in my pockets.

– Your flattery knows no bounds.

– Yeah. Im a sweet talker.

– Right. So this means?

The cabby turned and gave her a look and she nodded and looked up at me.

– Ill see you tonight, Web.

She closed the door. The cab pulled away. The window rolled down and she stuck her head out.

– If Im not in jail.

I watched the cab to the end of the street, standing on the curb, still there a couple minutes later when Chev pulled into his spot.

I wandered over.

– Hey.

He climbed out, ran a hand over the freshly washed door.

– Lucky you didnt fuck her up.

– I was careful.

He closed the door and sat on the running board.

– Beautiful day.

I looked at the utterly typical, stunning blue sky hovering relentlessly above.

– Yeah.

I sat next to him.

– Some things.

He stretched his legs, crossed his ankles.

– Like?

I leaned forward, put my elbows on my knees.

– I saw L.L. again. Last night.

I looked at him, looked away.

– Hes, not that it matters, but hes in sorryass shape. And Im gonna, I dont know, I need to see if I can. Help? I guess. And I dont want to sneak around doing it.

He uncrossed his ankles, recrossed them the other way.

– Hes your dad. Do what you have to.

– And I took some money from him. For a guy I know. To pay a debt.

He slipped the smokes from his T sleeve and knocked one from the pack.

– Kay.

– Just so you know.

– Now I know.

He lit up, tilted his face to the sun and closed his eyes and blew smoke.

I leaned my back against the hot steel of the door.

– I want to do better, Chev. I. I want to try and do better. Shit, man, I want to just, I want to try. Im tired of. Things. Im not saying. I dont feel any better. About it. I still cant think. About it. Too clearly. It still makes me want to fall asleep. But I know. It. Happened. I know I was there and the girl. I know. It. Happened. And I dont want to be him. I dont want to be L.L. I dont want this one fucked up thing to be who I am and thats it, this is the end of my life. I do not want to feel like this, be like this forever. I mean, Im not sure, but I think I used to be kind of a nice guy.

He took the cigarette from his lips, opened his eyes and slid them my way.

– Web, man, you have never in your life been a nice guy.

He closed his eyes again.

– But you used to be pretty damn cool. You used to be a guy a friend could count on. And itd be nice if you were that way again.

I nodded.

– See, thats it. Thats it. I want to be that guy, I want to be the guy people can count on. That sounds great. I dont exactly remember how that worked, but I want to try and be that again. Really, man.

He nodded, worked a hand into his pocket.

– Cool.

He took his hand from his pocket.

– So why dont you start by telling me where you took my truck.

He opened his hand and showed me the nine-millimeter bullet inside.

– And how this got in there.

– The phone?

– Yeah.

– Jesus. I think we need to get rid of it.

We both sat on the couch, staring at the phone in the middle of the liv-ingroom floor.

I nodded.

– Yeah. Without a doubt.

He pointed at the kitchen table.

– There was stuff on it?

– Urn, yeah.

– Lots?

– Not really.

– On the top?

– Yeah.

He shook his head.

– We got to get rid of it.

He put his face in his hands.

– With the fucking phone. That is so. Oh man.

He took his face from his hands and looked at me.

– Was the guy a dick?

– Chev, he beat his nephew to death with a fucking phone! Yes, he was a dick.

– No, the nephew, was he a?

– I dont know. Probably. Why do you?

He stood up.

– I dont know. Im just trying to deal and. Jesus. With the phone. Awwww, man. I used it after that. Awwww, shit!

He sat back down.

– Thats fucked.

– Sorry.

– What sorry? Fucked up inbred kills someone with the phone, what are you sorry about?

– I dont know. Feels like its my fault.

We stared at the phone.

Chev cupped his chin in his hand, clicked his thumb ring against one of his earrings.

– No way I can look at that kitchen every day.

He stood.

– We got to move out of here, man.

I nodded.

– Do you think?

He looked at me.

– Are you being a smartass? Are you being a smartass about a guy getting bludgeoned with a phone in my apartment?

I held my thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

– Little bit?

He shook his head.

– Looks like someones feeling better.

He started for the door.

– Long as youre all chipper, you call the landlady and tell her were out at the end of the month.

I stood.

– Where you going?

– The shop.

– Hang on, Ill come with.

He opened the door.

– Uh-uh, fuckwit, you have some disturbing shit to dispose of before I get home.

He pointed at the phone and the table.

– Those. Gone. And anything else that got. Stuff on it.

He looked at the kitchen.

– Telling you, Web, a weaker man than me, hed have quit your shit long ago.

I shrugged.

– Must be my abundant charm.