Hercules Auto Body was located on the east end of Verner, just before the main road hangs a hard right and heads toward the mountains. Steve arrived a little after eleven on a hot Monday and parked the Ark just inside the chain-link and razor-wire fence.
A Wyoming-sized man in dirty coveralls emerged from the office, turning slightly sideways to get out. He wore aviator shades and his mess of dark — or dirty — hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A beard of like color and equal hygienic chaos covered most of his face.
“Whoa,” the man said, eyeing the Ark. “She’s a classic, she is.”
Steve nodded. “She’s a gas guzzler, she is, but nice and wide.”
“Like me.” The man smiled. Yellow teeth peeked through the beard. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing a little Turtle Wax won’t fix. I came to see Johnny.”
The yellow teeth disappeared behind a clamped mouth. “You his PO?”
“No. His brother.”
Wyoming gave Steve a once-over. “You look a little more respectable.”
“Is he around?”
“He’s working.”
“Can you tell him I’m here? I’ll wait — ”
“I don’t run a messenger ser vice.”
“You can’t just tell him?”
Wyoming didn’t say anything, or move. The smell of grease and hand cleanser wafted off him.
“Look, this isn’t a prison,” Steve said. “You’re doing him a great favor hiring him on. I want to make sure he keeps the job and does good work. I’m as interested in seeing him return to society as you are.”
“I don’t give a rat’s patoot about society,” Wyoming said. “I got a business to run and I don’t need any distractions. Now if you — ”
“Steve!”
Johnny, smiling broadly and wiping his hands on a red rag, was coming across the yard.
“Problem solved,” Steve said.
Wyoming didn’t look convinced. Before he could say a word, Johnny piped, “I’ll take my break now, if you don’t mind, Russ.”
“I do mind,” Russ said.
“I got it coming. I take it now, we get it out of the way, am I right?”
“You ain’t calling any shots.”
“And that’s why I’m just asking,” Johnny said. “Your word goes.”
“Ten minutes,” Russ said. “No more.” Then he headed back to his lair.
When the office door closed, Johnny said, “So what do you think? I’m a working stiff again.”
“Great boss.”
“Ah, he needs to get over himself. He didn’t want to hire me at first.”
“So why did he?”
“I think he saw it was in his best interest, know what I mean?” Johnny smiled.
“No, I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, little brother, it’s good business to do a little favor for the LaSalle family from time to time.”
“Hey, what a coincidence.”
“Huh?”
“The LaSalle family. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Johnny worked the red bandanna in his hands again, then used it to wipe his forehead. “What about it?”
“You tell me.”
He studied Steve. Then he smiled and wiggled a finger in Steve’s face. “You’ve been doing a little digging, haven’t you?”
“I guess somebody had to. Why don’t you tell me about Booth Speaks?”
Johnny shook his head slowly. “Don’t be like all the rest, Steve.”
“Why don’t you answer — ”
“You’re my lawyer.”
“You don’t hold out on your lawyer. That’s not a good way to start.”
“How much time have we had? Have you given me a chance?”
That was true. Steve didn’t like the slight hurt in Johnny’s eyes.
“Okay, Johnny. But I need to know what’s up with that stuff. If we’re going to set up a church, I have to have all the info.”
“All right,” Johnny said. “But not right out here. Come on.” He turned, and Steve followed him around the side of the garage. There were a couple of big white buckets there, turned over. Johnny sat on one, Steve took the other. The sun beat against the white wall, casting off heat.
Johnny said, “Do we still have a right to free speech in this country?”
“Of course,” Steve said.
“I’m not so sure. Race is one example. You can’t talk about race unless it’s along politically correct lines. Eldon just wants to be able to say what he thinks.”
“Like he wants to ship blacks back to Africa?”
“First of all, Steve, that’s what a lot of the blacks themselves were saying back in the sixties. Eldon just agreed with ’em. They were burning down cities then. Killing cops. Rioting in the streets.”
“They?”
“Blacks.”
“That is classic bigotry.”
“You think this country is better off with all the ‘la-la and let’s hold hands’? You think we got racial harmony? Go to any college, and what do you see? The blacks with the blacks, Latinos with Latinos. Come on. And in the joint it’s a lot worse. It all breaks down that way eventually.”
“But you can’t have a country that way.”
“We don’t have a country now! And that’s all Eldon is saying.”
“What are you saying?” Steve asked. “That’s the important thing.”
Johnny paused a long moment before answering. “I’m also a work in progress, Steve.”
Steve folded his arms across his chest. “When I came and saw you in prison that first time, you said, ‘I bless the world.’ Remember?”
“I bless the entire world,” Johnny said. “That’s the last thing John Wilkes Booth wrote.”
“So you’re cool with what your father wrote?”
“He read that to me as a kid, like a bedtime story. That stuff stays with you.”
“Is it with you now?”
“Does it matter so much to you?”
Steve thought about it. “It does.”
“Then do me a favor.” Johnny touched Steve’s arm. “Walk with me a little. Work with me. And in the process, make some good money. What’s wrong with that?”
Nothing he could think of at the moment.
“Make a leap of faith,” Johnny said.
Faith. He thought of Gincy then, and the Zipper. Only this thing Steve was experiencing wasn’t faith in God, but in Johnny LaSalle. It had to be faith. What else could it be? Johnny was his brother because Steve wanted to believe it.
In a way, this whole thing would be like the opposite of kicking an addiction — one day at a time.
“I think it’s time for you to meet the old man,” Johnny said.
“Eldon?”
“Eldon.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Steve’s nerves took a jolt. The prospect of meeting the great patriarch made him feel like the Scarecrow granted audience with the mighty Oz.
“You drive up around three,” Johnny said. “I’ll show you around Beth-El.”
“Beth-El?”
“That’s what we call our compound in the mountains.”
“Compound? It sounds like Superman should be living there,” Steve said.
Johnny smiled. “What makes you think he doesn’t?”