It was Hattie’s laugh that woke him up, the sound of a chicken cackling, really. She cozied up by the corner window, her hand holding a leaking cigarette through the open wedge. Vinnie sat in the lounge seat next to her, his legs stretched out, almost touching the end of Louis’s bed.
“Welcome back.”
Louis lolled his head to the side, an iron grip over his scalp. Mitch straddled a stick chair, his arms folded over the seatback, a radiator grin stretching from sideburn to sideburn.
“I guess I got my bell rung pretty good,” Louis said, reaching to touch the back of his head.
“That you did,” Mitch said.
Louis pushed himself up from the mattress, the tug of a needle pinching at his forearm. Mitch leaned forward and took the little control box sitting on the bunched blankets, handing it over so Louis could fumble with it, giving himself a couple false starts before riding the drawbridge up.
“How long have I been out?”
“Better part of a couple days, give or take.”
“Give or take a day?”
“Give or take out,” Mitch laughed. “Holly’s been beside herself.”
Vinnie called out from his corner, “We thought you might be a goner for a while there. Son of a bitch got you a good one.” He took up the TV remote and clicked at the screen, scrolling channels like dealing cards, round one end and down the other, never settling on any one station long enough to decide if it was worth watching or not.
Louis looked to Mitchell. “I’m supposing it was Fanning who did the honors.”
“I kind of hoped you’d be able to shed a little light on that. But yeah, that’s my guess.”
“You got him in custody?”
“In a sense,” he said. “It’s kind of an ugly discovery. They’re gonna be up there for a while, sifting through it all. Looks like Lester’s been up to no good for quite some time.”
“What about the girl?”
Mitch said, “Hide nor hair. We don’t know anything about her, other than what little the kid could—or would—say. She called in on your radio and bandaged you up before taking off. Lester’s got so many rigs up on that place, God knows what she’s driving.”
When Louis asked if they had a name for her, Mitch just shook his head. “For all we know she was a temporary thing for him. The kid seems to think she saved him from being right there next to Otis Dell. I’d say he’s right.”
Hattie hummed along with the radio and steered the Fairmont with one hand, holding her cigarette at the wing with the other. Vinnie rested with his back against the passenger door, watching over Louis as he sat in the back seat as if his little brother might fall out onto the pavement at the next turn of the wheel.
“I’m thinking this is it,” Vinnie said.
“What’s it?”
“This,” Vinnie said, waving his fingers over his head like casting a spell. “You could have been down at the morgue, Lou.”
“No.”
“Yes. And then what? Who’s gonna take care of me?” He side-eyed Hattie, who shot him a look. “You’re good for shits and giggles,” he said to her. “But I ain’t counting on you to bail my ass out of jail if it comes to that.”
“Good,” Hattie said, “Neither am I.”
“Nor me,” Louis said.
“Damn it,” Vinnie said. “That’s no good.”
They turned down Polk Street, past the cherry trees already dropping their blossoms in wide skirts of pink over the edges of the roadway. Hattie brought the car to a stop in the driveway and offered to walk him inside. Louis declined, swinging the door open and climbing out.
“I appreciate the taxi ride,” he said, and then he went up his walkway without looking back.
Vinnie rolled down the window and leaned out. “You give a holler if you need anything,” he said.
Louis put up his hand, giving a thumbs up. There were at least a half-dozen people he’d call first if he got in a real bind, but Vinnie’s offer was worth that much.
He let himself into his house, dark, the smell of overripe bananas. The photo of him and Vinnie on the shelf as young fellows, against the scaffolding of the Grand Coulee, smiles like Boy Scouts. Had he ever been that young and happy? What he didn’t know about the world that lay ahead of him.
The moment was cleaved by the hard ring of the telephone. Louis moved quickly to the kitchen, snatching the handpiece from the cradle.
“I’m alive,” he said.
“I know that.” It was Holly. “I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“I got a ride.”
“I know that, too. I also know who drove you, which is why I thought I’d call.” She laughed then, soft and throaty. “I’ll be by after my shift to check up on you.”
“I don’t need that,” he said. He leaned against the jamb and looked out the little kitchen window, in the direction of the station.
“Says you.” He could see her there at her phone, winding the spiral cord through her fingers like she always did. Probably working her crosswords as she talked.
“I appreciate the offer. I don’t want you to put yourself out for me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re just a couple turns out of my way.” She said Just a minute, and then there was some muffled talk, the scratch of her hand over the mouthpiece, and then she was back.
“I’ll bring by some fried chicken,” she said. “You just settle in that big chair of yours and watch something on the tube till I get there.” And before he could say anything to that, she hung up on him.
He set the phone down and went over to the picture window in front and pulled back the drapes, letting the afternoon sun in to wash over everything, every dusty shelf and tabletop, coffee rings in places he never set his own mug. The carpet could do with a vacuuming.
He found a can of furniture polish in the laundry room and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d used it, though not remembering didn’t concern him. He supposed these things were good for quite a while.
Something caught his periphery, a flash of pink from out the window in the street. The little boy with the name of Luis pedaled that bicycle of his from one end of the block to the other, back and forth, pausing now and then to pick something out of the basket, to hold it up to the sky. And even though the kid was far enough away that Louis couldn’t even gauge a guess as to what he had in his hand, there was no mistaking the smile. A smile so big that you could say there had to be nothing greater in the world for him at that moment than a low-bar bike with a good-sized basket, and tassels so shiny they could catch the sun on a day when nothing else could.