No Dominion(37)
He looks at me over his shoulder.
You need some?
I flex my hands, the dry white skin over my knuckles cracks.
I’m not thirsty right now.
He sighs.
You’re a better man than I.
He comes back to the table, a pint of blood in his hand.
Me, I need a drink.
He takes a penknife from his pocket and pokes a hole in the bag.
I need it something fierce.
He takes a drink.
I blow smoke.
He points at it.
That’s not a habit you should be getting into, smoking in here. It’s special circumstances tonight, but in general, not the way we do it.
I keep smoking.
He nods.
Joe, it did get a little more complicated than I thought it might. I mean, you heard the story. I’m, you know, still waiting for a loose end to come around and get me.
He drinks. A little shudder runs down his body.
Never get used to it, you know? Never. No matter how long it’s been, no matter how many times I’ve felt it, I’ve never gotten used to how good it goes down. How many other things are like that? How many things in life that you just don’t get tired of?
You tell me.
He takes another drink.
Not too many, man, not too many at all.
He drains the rest of the bag, folds it neatly, sets it on the table in front of him.
So. How I had it figured, what I knew I could count on?
He looks at me.
How I had it figured was you’d dig around. Being you, you’d, you know, keep digging. Dig and dig and dig until you hit something that stopped you, and then you’d try to dig through it. Knowing that, well, I, you know, guessed it’d be just a matter of time before you dug up Tom.
I smoke.
Yeah, I get that. A matter of time seeing the way you guys had things all set up, anyway. Pretty fucked up, Terry. All the way around.
You know what, Joe? You got that right.
He scratches the side of his nose.
Know what else is fucked up?
What’s that?
Think about it.
About?
He taps his forehead.
Think for a second. It won’t take long.
I think. I think about the story he just told me. And I get it.
I have my gun. Terry gave it back before I went out with Hurley. I’ve used it since then. I reach for it.
I hear a noise. Terry shakes his head. His hand under the table, holding the sawed-off double-barrel that’s taped there. The one I’ve just heard him cock.
Easy, Joe.
I take my hand off my gun.
He nods.
Cool, man. That’s it. Let me show you something.
He brings up his hands. Brings them up empty.
Nobody here, man. Just me and you. You want to hold your piece on me while we talk, go ahead.
I do want to hold my piece on him. So I pull it and point it.
He smiles.
Well, shit, what did I expect, right? Offer a guy like you a chance to invest in some mutual trust, I get what I deserve, right?
What the fuck, Terry? What the fuck with telling me that story? That’s like a goddamn death sentence.
He runs a hand over the top of his head.
Just trying to get your attention, Joe.
Trying to get my? Fuck that. You’re trying to. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s fucked up whatever it is.
Well, that is one possible interpretation of events.
Fuck you. I’m a Rogue. I can’t get away with knowing that shit.
Yes, you are. You are a Rogue.
He puts his glasses back on.
Then again, what if things were, you know, different?
I start to smell it now. He sees me smelling it.
No.
Just hear me out. Just, you know, give this a listen.
No.
Joe.
He leans forward.
You have the gun, but you’re in my place. Hear me out.
Shit.
I put the gun away. For as much good as it will do me now.
He rubs his hands together.
OK. OK. That’s cool. Now we can really rap, really get into it. OK. So, you’ve been asking some interesting questions here. Some deep stuff. Stuff that gets right down there in the roots, down where you don’t go swinging away, hacking things to bits. Cut the wrong bit, the whole tree dies. Thing is, being around as long as you have, you’ve ended up mixed up in some pretty serious stuff the last couple years. Gotten some pretty deep knowledge on your own. That’s what happens. You last long enough, you’re going to get sucked into some stuff. Period. Can’t get around that. There are only so many of us. Only so many who have some staying power. Sooner or later, you’re going to get involved. Just, for just a second, just think about who you met the last couple days. Think about the people you met last year. Think about the kind of juice those people squeeze. Think about, about the things you know now, about how stuff works, the things you didn’t know last year. Seriously, think.
He shuts up and watches me.
And I think.
I think about it. And it scares me.
He nods.
Right? Got it? See what I mean? Hey, man, not everybody spends their time rapping with DJ Grave Digga and Dexter Predo and me and old lady Vandewater. And let’s not even talk about how you have something going with Daniel. Any idea how many people get a repeat audience with him? How many survive the first one? That is, you know, a very short list. You’re, whether you like it or not, and for lack of a better word, you’re becoming a player.
He raises a finger.
And check this out. For every little detail you’ve picked up, there’s a whole mosaic attached to it. You just can’t see it yet. Keep going, you’re gonna see more. But, you being a Rogue and all, not everyone is going to be happy about your growing understanding of, you know, how we do things. A Rogue has no loyalty. You don’t know where he’s going to go, which way he’ll jump. That puts people, I don’t know, on edge. Joe, I’m not gonna lie, it harshes my mellow, too. A good mellow is hard to come by. Security, can’t pay enough to have it. And, well, that’s kind of it. If your knowing things, combined with your being a Rogue, if that unsettles people? Sooner or later someone’s going to deal with that. Screw the metaphors, someone’s going to put you in the sun. Like Tom. And for the same reason: because he was harshing everybody’s mellow.
He leans back.
Which is why I can sit here and offer you a job I know you don’t want.
I said, no.
Joe, man, it doesn’t have to be like the old days. I mean, today, yeah, man, that was bad karma all the way around. But it’s not really like it used to be. Mostly, it’s just showing yourself in the neighborhood. Keeping an eye on things. Pretty much the kind of stuff you do on your own. And, you know, if someone does get out of line, sure, that would be down to you. But you make the call. With this job, you have the license to, well let’s just say it like it is, you have a license to fuck people up. You employ it as you see fit. Straight up. Tom sucked at the job. You, you’re a natural. We both know that.
I pick up my gun. Put it back in my belt.
No.
I stand up.
He stands up.
Joe, come on, I know you, man. You like to know what’s up. You got to pick a scab, man. Well this job puts you on the inside, where things happen.
I turn to the door.
No.
Like that, he’s in front of me.
Please, man. I’m telling you, it’s not, like, a threat or anything, but I’m telling you, it can’t go on like it has. Not now. Me, I can play it as loose as you. I dig that. But Digga? Predo? They won’t have it. Not like this. You have to come back inside, Joe. It’s down to that. In or out.
I think about trying to go through him. I think about going out like that, taking the head of a Clan with me. My old buddy.
I pull another smoke from my pack and light it with a match.
I think about the gutted lighter I abandoned at Vandewater’s. Have to get a new one. They take weeks to break in, to get the action on the hinge loosened up so it will pop open with a snap of your fingers. The old one was just right.
I smoke.
Terry stands there, watches me. I watch him back. He’s in no hurry. There’s a clock built into the face of the stove. I look at it. It’s getting late.
I think about last year. How close I came to dying. Dying ugly. I think about the last forty-eight hours. How close. I think about how it’s hard enough day by day without this kind of crazy shit blowing up in your face. I think about that lousy fucking job. Security. What that job was like when I had it before.
The whip in my hand.
I think about the part of me that likes the way it feels. The part my father and mother cut into me.
Terry, waiting.
Shit.
No.
He sags, nods his head.
I did my best.
He steps aside.
I go for the door.
Joe.
I stop.
You want to buy a little extra goodwill down here, you can do me a favor.
I turn my head.
What’s that?
He goes to the fridge, comes out with the bag of anathema.
Drop something off for me.
It’s not an errand I’m looking forward to. But I’ll be needing every last scrap of goodwill Terry’s willing to dole out. Every scrap while I figure where to run to.
Also, I have a couple questions left. Terry left some gaps around this part. The part where everything connects.
And he was right, I do like to pick a scab.
One of the girls answers my buzz. She doesn’t want to let me in, but he tells her to do it. I take the stairs. Poncho is there at the door, holding it open. She stands aside to let me in, giving me a nasty look as I go by.