Ray followed his son to the table and snuck a quick glance at the boy's pant cuffs for moon dust. It was probably a good thing he didn't see any, but still, he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.
Grace sat at the table, nursing a mug of coffee.
"Good morning," he said, sliding a chair out.
Her gaze bounced off his as she answered "good morning" back.
Ray couldn't recall ever seeing a black person blush before, so when Grace's skin flushed pinker than usual, he paused and studied the smile she hid behind the rim of her coffee mug. Then it hit him, she must have seen him dressing. He'd been surprised at how close he was to Rose's place when the sun came up, close enough for Grace to see his scrawny, naked ass. His face grew hot. He quickly looked away and sat.
Rose brought him a mug of coffee. "Enjoy your walk?" she asked.
The woman still made him uncomfortable, even though he was pretty sure she didn't have anything to do with the moon dream. Did she see my scrawny, naked ass too? He avoided meeting her eyes and said, "It was tolerable."
She had a pleasing laugh, as deep and rich as her coffee. Benny giggled and Ray felt his own mouth pull into a smile.
A low rumble outside interrupted the moment. It grew louder as it approached.
"The Black Pearl!" Benny shouted, and ran to open the door.
"That will be my little brother," Rose said and followed Benny outside. Ray and Grace brought up the rear.
A lean, brown-skinned man in faded jeans and a blue-plaid shirt, his long braid flying behind him, drove the Harley to within a few feet of the door and stopped. As the trailing dust settled, he swung off the bike and flashed Rose a broad grin. "I got your call."
"You called him?" Ray asked. "When? How?" He thought of the eagle and stopped short of looking up at the sky.
"Last night," Rose said. "On my cell phone." She drew the device from the pocket of her skirt and waved it at him. "You should think about getting one."
Benny marched forward and thrust out his hand. "Benjaminraycolton."
Ray expected Rose's brother to shy away from the boy's straightforwardness – most people did – but the man took Benny's hand in a firm shake and said, "Please to meet you. My name's Henry." He released Benny's hand and gave Rose a hug.
"This is Ray," she said. "He asks a lot of questions."
Henry shook Ray's hand. "Nice shirt."
"And this is their traveling companion Grace," Rose said.
Henry smiled and nodded. He looked at Ray and said, "I fixed your flat."
"I see that." His helmet was strapped to the backrest, too. "Thanks. How'd you get the bike over here?"
"The road." Henry jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and Ray saw the dirt lane leading up to the cabin. Somehow he'd missed it before. "You didn't think the hooghan just dropped outta the sky, did you?"
Stranger things have happened, Ray thought, catching the smirk brother and sister exchanged at his expense. "What do I owe you for the tire?"
"Nothin', man. It was worth it to get to ride again. And with the sidecar," he shook his head, "what a trip. You know anything about the crazy white man about a mile out, throwing underwear across the desert?"
Ray's stomach tightened. "That would be mine."
"The dude looked pretty pissed off," Henry said.
"Yeah, I'll bet he was. He still there?"
"Last I saw." Henry looked at his sister. "You're right. He does ask a lot of questions."
Benny snickered.
"Come inside," Rose said. "I'll put on another pot of coffee."
~~~
Grace could tell by the look on Ray's face he'd made up his mind about something. She thought she knew what that something was, so she stayed behind as Benny followed Rose and Henry inside.
"I'm going to return the money," Ray told her once they were alone. "I'd like you to keep Benny out of the way in case there's anymore shooting."
"Johnny's not going to be happy about some of that money bein' spent," Grace said. "What makes you think his aim won't be any better the next time?"
"I'll have to risk it. Maybe he'll agree to take the Harley as partial payment."
"No!" Benny's shout from the open doorway set the hairs on Grace's neck to standing up. "The Black Pearl's ours!" he bawled, and made a rush for the motorcycle.
Ray blocked the charge, wrapped his arms around Benny's shoulders and attempted to calm him, but the boy put up a struggle.
"Black Pearl ours! My money! Finder's keepers!"
He said more but heated emotion rendered his words unintelligible to Grace's ears. He whipped himself into a tantrum that Ray seemed to have no idea how to manage. Grace didn't abide tantrums, no matter the child's age or special needs. Her own children learned quick not to go there.
"Hush that!" she snapped.
Benny stopped his ranting and gave her a startled look. Then he began to cry.
Grace resisted the impulse to gather him up and comfort him. "I said hush," she repeated, her voice lower but no less un-giving.
Benny gulped, swiped at his face with the backs of his hands, and fell quiet.
"That's better," Grace said. "Now then," she looked from Benny to Ray, "I may have another way out of this predicament."
Ray stared at her, waiting. Whatever happened last night in the desert changed him, like the weight he'd been packing around eased. But grief left its mark on those blue eyes of his as they all but pleaded with her for help.
Grace prayed she didn't let him down.
~~~
Ray forced himself to hold his tongue while Grace suggested gambling the rest of the money to win back what they spent. He flashed to the night she told him she sometimes forgets things that happened years ago. And there was the phone number she couldn't remember. Her own phone number. When she stopped talking and looked to him for a response, all he could say was, "You haven't played poker in a long time."
"Like riding a bicycle."
Either she had a hell of a poker face, or she really believed what she said. If Ray hadn't spent the night on the moon with his son, conversing with his dead wife, he would have called her crazy. Trading the Harley made a lot more sense. If she lost the rest of the money in a poker game, the Harley wouldn't be enough. Then what?
"What makes you sure this'll work, Grace?"
"Ain't no guarantees," she said. "But I think I know who can swing the odds in my favor."
"Who?"
"Johnny."
Crap.
"I have a hunch he got his gambling debt at a poker table."
"Do it, Dad."
Ray looked at Benny, surprised to see him still standing there. Did the boy sense something? Or am I grasping at straws? He looked back at Grace. The woman was in this mess because of him. Because she trusted him. He could at least return the courtesy. He trusted her with his son; something told him he could trust her with this, too.
And he'd bet money she wasn't losing her mind.
"Alright then."
~~~
Ray parked the Harley next to a yucca waving a pair of white briefs like a flag of truce. Several yards away, on the shoulder of the two-lane headed south, sat the silver car coated in red dust. He didn't see Johnny anywhere.
Ray shut the Harley off and dismounted. He retrieved his underwear from the yucca and spotted one of his t-shirts caught at the base of a rock. When he picked it up, he saw the shirt had been ripped in two. The other half lay a short distance away. The hairs on his neck prickled. Pretty pissed off might be putting Johnny's mood mildly. Ray decided his laundry could wait. Better to confront the guy head on than risk a shot in the back. Still clutching his briefs and torn shirt, he made his way toward the car.
Johnny stepped from behind a large rock a few feet in front of him. The man's tight-fitting mustard yellow shirt and shiny black pants looked so out of place in the serene Red Rock setting, Ray missed a step. Then he saw the gun Johnny held against the right leg of those shiny pants. Ray knew he should call a truce, maybe wave his briefs in surrender. But when he looked up from the gun to the smug expression on the asshole's face, he forgot about what he should do. He remembered Grace bound and bruised. He remembered the potshots that could have killed any one of them. The wound on his side pulsed and anger roiled inside him. The asshole didn't have a right to that smug look. Ray dropped his laundry and rushed him.
Johnny's mouth popped open like he had something to say, but Ray didn't give him the chance. Growling, he wrapped his arms tight around that ugly yellow shirt and propelled the man backwards. Their feet tangled and Johnny whumphed flat on his back with Ray's full weight on top of him. The gun hit the dirt a few feet away.
Ray figured this must be what it felt like to ride a rodeo bull as Johnny bucked and twisted beneath him. He fought to catch his breath, the smell of onions and cheap cologne gagging. He fought to keep his neck from breaking. He fought with what seemed like half a dozen arms at once.
Then Johnny headed-butted him. Hard. Ray's head snapped back and pain radiated behind his eyeballs. Johnny shoved out from under him and staggered to his feet. He lunged for the gun, but Ray grabbed his ankle and the man fell face first into a boulder.
Johnny's head bounced, then his entire body turned in slow motion. He fell back against the boulder and slid to his butt in the dirt. Blood oozed from his nostrils and the rock rash on his forehead. "Son of a bitch," he wailed, delicately feeling at his nose. "I think you busted it this time."
Ray figured that made them even. He struggled to his hands and knees. "You didn't think I'd give you a chance to shoot me again, did you?"
"I shot you?"
"Got the gouge in my side to prove it."
Johnny went back to prissing with his nose. "I was just tryin' to scare you. I don't even like guns."
"Then you won't mind if I get rid of this." Ray crawled over to the pistol – a Taurus .40 cal – and popped the magazine. He hesitated, considered his current lack of a firearm, then flashed on Benny and tossed the gun into the brush. He emptied the magazine, letting the cartridges fall where they may, and tossed the magazine in the opposite direction. One of his torn t-shirts lay within reach. He wadded it into a ball and chucked it at Johnny. "Here. I've found cotton to be quite absorbent."
As luck would have it, the shirt flew straight at Johnny's face. He jerked and struck the back of his head on the boulder. "Ow, man!"
Ray sniggered. "Good thing you got a hard head." He hoisted himself onto a low, flat rock. Sitting with his hands on his knees, he regarded Johnny. "I see ya got a new set of wheels."
"It's a rental. You know what it's gonna cost to fix my 'Stang?"
"I've got car issues of my own to worry about. What now?"
Johnny held the t-shirt to his nose, his voice muffled as he answered, "Now you give me my money instead of your laundry."
"Here's the problem," Ray said. "I had to use some of the money – "
"My money."
" – to buy that bike over there." Ray nodded toward the Harley. "My car crapped out and we need to be in Vegas by tonight."
"So do I." Johnny lowered the t-shirt, the blood from his nose staunched for the time being. "If I don't get that money, all of it, to Vegas by midnight, I'm a dead man. You understand? A dead man."
"So it was a pay-off."
Johnny gave a harsh laugh. "Do I look like a guy who walks around with that kind of dough for no good reason?"
The asshole had a point. "Why the garbage can?"
Johnny eyed him as though trying to decide how much to tell him. "I thought I was being followed."
"By who? We were in the middle of nowhere, for crap sake."
"Yeah, well, that's what I thought too, 'til Mr. Tony's muscle caught up with me."
"Mr. Tony?"
"The guy I owe the money to," Johnny said impatiently. "Shit, man, you ask a lot of questions."
"So I've been told."
"That pirate with the gun isn't hiding behind one of these rocks, is he?"
"He's safe."
"Kid's got guts, I'll give 'im credit. Some day you'll have to explain to me why he tried to rob that store. But right now I've got more important things to think about. I owe a lot of money I apparently no longer have to a man with a serious lack of humor."
"How'd you come to owe Mr. Tony so much?"
"Poker."
Ray smiled. Sombitch, Grace nailed it.
"It's not funny, man!"
"It's perfect. Where in Vegas do we find this guy?"
"We?" Johnny slanted him a wary look, his face scrunched against the sun. It started his nose bleeding again. "Ain't no we about it. I deliver the money and hope to hell Mr. Tony will accept a Harley and sidecar as part of the payment."
"What if I told you there's another way?"
Johnny mopped at the blood on his upper lip. "Only other way is if you can shit money like the goose that laid the golden egg."
"There ya go pissing me off again," Ray warned. "I'm trying to have a civil conversation with you, find a way we can all come out of this smelling good, and you're actin' like an asshole."
"Asshole's my middle name."
Without a word, Ray got to his feet and made for the Harley.
"Hey! Come back here!"
Ray shouted over his shoulder, "I don't waste my time talkin' to assholes," and continued to walk away.
Johnny plowed into him from behind and propelled them both to the ground, face first. Ray ate dirt before he got twisted around and flipped Johnny's weight off him. He tried to pop to his feet but scrambled sideways like a crab, until his legs gave out and he did a slow-motion sit. A few feet away, Johnny sat up and swatted at the dust coating his black pants.
Ray spat and asked, "Feel better?"
"They're ruined."
"Cooperate and you'll have enough to buy a new pair when it's over, maybe even get your Mustang fixed."
Johnny stopped and looked at him, shook his head. "Man, where'd you get that ugly shirt?"
Ray didn't answer.
Johnny got the message. "So what's this plan of yours?"