May 26th, 1992. Tuesday evening.
Benny pulled up at Harley’s Bowling Alley at 5:15 p.m. He would have gotten there sooner if it weren’t for rush hour traffic. He also had a brief heart to heart with his daughter Rachel before he left the office.
* * * * *
Josh called and put her on.
“Daddy, Mommy says you’re not coming home anymore.”
“That’s not true, little doll,” Benny said somberly, his voice cracking. “I’ll be home soon. I wish Mommy wouldn’t say those things.”
“Did Mommy do a bad thing?”
“We all do bad things, including me,” Benny said. “I’ll explain later.”
“Will I see you tonight?” Rachel innocently asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know. Daddy has to work late. I’ll be there tomorrow for sure.”
“Bye Daddy.”
“Bye sweetie.”
* * * * *
Benny thought about that a lot while driving to Harley’s. What about his kids? Tracey mentioned that at the office but it didn’t kick in until his little girl called. How could he leave them just like that? But he wasn’t really leaving. Not really. Just living apart--very close by. How could he go back to Marsha and pretend the whole incident with Tommy never happened? Benny would have nightmares about that the rest of his life. He knew himself. He knew what bothered him. No, there was no other way. It was splitsville.
Benny took a seat in front of lane nineteen, hoping Rings would remember. The bowlers were already in high gear. The earsplitting crash of the pins was comforting to Benny. It was normal. He was in a place where the people looked normal and were doing normal things. It felt good to be out of his element--whatever that was. The world he created was sick. Very sick. But maybe that sickness would soon be over. He had one more disease to cure.
“Where’s my lighter,” Benny said to himself, checking all his pockets after putting a thick cigar in his mouth. Oh fuck! I forgot to leave my gun in the car, he thought, discovering the hard, bulging metal in his inside pocket. How did I not know it was there? Oh well, I’ll give it to Rings to put in his car until later.
“YO, SOX!” Rings yelled, sneaking up on Benny.
“Oh, Jesus, Rings! You scared me again. Why do you keep doing that? Can’t you walk into a room without startling people?”
“Sorry, Sox. Old habit. Hey, but I got the stuff. The bottle is half full,” Rings said, holding the small container up to the light. “Momma put her mouth on that--hope you don’t mind. She drinks it straight.”
Benny took the little bottle of magic syrup that was going to save his life. He handed rings a fifty.
“Naw, keep it,” Rings said, handing back the Grant. “You’ve given me enough money. And I appreciate it.”
Benny wouldn’t take back the bill. “Rings--it’s for Twila. She can use it. Please--take it for your ma.”
Rings stuffed the money in his pocket and thanked him. They both got up to leave. Benny handed Rings a big cigar as they walked outside towards Rings’ suburban.
“For the road,” Benny said. “I know you like my cigars. After I take care of my last bit of business, I’ll send you a box of them.”
“Thanks,” Rings said, putting the unwrapped stogie in his mouth.
They reached Rings’ car. Benny handed him his gun.
“What’s this for?” Rings asked. “Am I going to need it?”
“No, just hold it for me until I see you next. Put it in the back seat out of sight.”
Benny patted his inside pocket, making sure the bottle of Versed was still there.
“I’ll level with you, Rings,” Benny said, moving closer to his buddy. “The cops called me today. I’m on my way downtown to take a lie test. That’s what the medicine is for. You can cheat a polygraph with Versed. Works every time!”
“No shit?” Rings said, like he just discovered the Dead Sea Scrolls. “Is that for real? Man, that’s good to know.”
“Yeah,” Benny said. “And that’s why a polygraph isn’t admissible in court--’cause you can beat it with stuff like this.”
Rings got in his car and started the motor.
“Call me later on tonight and let me know how it went,” Rings said. “But don’t call too late--J.J. needs his sleep.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Oh, how do you get to Polk Street from here?”