Charlene lived in a cheap apartment complex in a neighborhood with ruts for roads and an inordinate number of dogs. A place with more dogs than people always disagreed with Troy. The living room was empty aside from a dozen unpacked cartons and stained wall-to-wall carpet. Charlene pulled out two metal folding chairs, placed them next to a trunk, and lit a jasmine-scented candle. Troy had hoped the place would be as good as a bad motel. But at least it beat the great outdoors.
“Just looking out the window makes you thirsty,” she said, opening two beers. “I never been this thirsty. My cousin, he lives across town. We’re the same age. We grew up together in San Diego. He paid my way and everything.” Charlene’s voice hushed. “He’s got AIDS. He’s dying. Am I talking too much? I am talking too much. I haven’t had time to fix anything up. Most days I’m over there helping my cousin and keeping him company. Most nights I stay at his place. This is the living room, I guess you can tell. I got my bedroom in there.”
Troy spied a mattress on the floor.
“I am dead tired,” he announced.
“You look tired,” Charlene agreed. “Maybe you wanna watch TV? Whatever’s going on inside me, TV sucks it out like voodoo. I love TV.” To stop herself from talking, Charlene sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll get comfortable,” Troy said. “Take off my clothes and crash.”
Charlene rushed into the bedroom, swept what was on the mattress to the floor, straightened the bedding, fluffed the pillows, and motioned for Troy to come in.
He kicked off his boots and collapsed.
“Get some rest, E.R. You need it after where you been today.”
In the morning, Troy woke refreshed. He watched Charlene sashay by the bed in a diaphanous gown but made no effort to touch her. First of all, she looked better in the dark. In the light he could see acne scars on her face and stains on her teeth. Second, he was already busy at work.
“Hungry?” she asked him.
Of course he was. In a few minutes, an omelet with refried beans, tortillas, and salsa appeared by the bed.
“Did I mention I almost went to San Diego?” He smiled and wiped his toothpick on Charlene’s sheet. “My sister Kate lives in La Jolla.”
“Ho-ya,” Charlene corrected.
“The whole damn house is birch wood with a view that goes to Japan.”
“It’s pretty there,” she agreed. “Not like here. Everything here is brown.”
“Honey, if you like green, you should come to Hawaii. Ever been to Maui?”
Charlene shook her head as Troy felt for the photographs in his jacket pocket.
“My family has a condo in Maui. I love it over there. There’s a volcano called Hanna-Akala. You can walk down into the crater.” He took Charlene’s hand. “When my car arrives from Florida, we’ll drive into the mountains. If you know where to go, there are spectacular places here.”
“I can borrow my cousin’s car.” Charlene leaned into Troy’s shoulder. “He’s too sick to drive now.”
Troy put his arm around her. He pulled her closer. After a couple of kisses and another cup of coffee, he excused himself. He had an appointment with a realtor.
At the bank, Troy picked up a box of checks. Then, Edwin Ryan went to work. He substituted his old pieces of fake ID with his new name and address. He hired a cab to wait while he bought an HD TV and two VCRs. He duplicated his purchases at a store across town and repeated the maneuver at two computer centers. So far, so good. The fence was reliable. Soon, he’d have a car.