“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Toofus-Doofus.”
Leon looked over at him. Eyes bright.
“Scared ya, I bet.”
“You definitely caught me by surprise there, Leon.”
“Yeah, you were scared shitless, man. Admit it.”
“I was scared shitless. You’re right.” I still am, I still am, I still am.
“Don’t worry, Kev. You get used to it. Just listen to Red Bear, man. That guy knows what he’s talking about. You get used to things. And it’s okay. You do what you have to do. Toof knew the score, Kev. He made his bet and he lost.”
“Lost big.”
“Only justice,” Leon said. “Mouth like that could get us all killed.” He turned onto Highway 11, and then it was blast-off, dual exhausts roaring and the Trans Am hurtling south.
“Justice,” Leon said again. “Way it should be.”
Addicts learn early on to keep all their options open. That was why Kevin knew that Leon kept his private inventory under a floorboard in his cabin. It was also why, one time when Leon had stepped out for something, Kevin had unlatched his window from the inside. It was still too cool at night, out here by the lake, to sleep with the windows open. And they didn’t have screens. An open window was an invitation to the flies that were buzzing around Kevin’s head and neck.
The unlatched window was at the back; he wouldn’t be seen from Red Bear’s cabin. Kevin forced the window up eight or ten inches. He pulled himself through and lowered himself, hands first, to the floor.
He went straight to the floorboard under Leon’s bed and pried it up. There were enough glassine envelopes full of dope to knock out an army of elephants, but Kevin took only one. He replaced it with another he had prepared that contained nothing more lethal than icing sugar. Some junkie would be in for a disappointment.
Toof’s face. The rolling, bewildered eyes. The sound of his skull yielding to wood. Kevin would never forget that sound. The memory made his legs quake so bad he had trouble climbing out the window. He dropped to the ground outside and nearly broke his ankle.
He moved quickly through the bush, back toward his own cabin. He did not want to run into Leon—the new Leon. He knew there was violence in Leon’s past. Leon had hinted at it a couple of times. And Kevin had seen him beat the hell out of that guy in the pub. But now it was as if Red Bear had roused some black-hearted creature previously dormant within Leon. The entity.
Kevin outran the flies back to his own cabin and shut the door. Got to get out of here. Definitely. But first, let’s get myself a little calm, a little clarity.
He pulled out the spoon he had hidden in the wall and cooked up the smack with his Ronson. He drew the milky stuff into his syringe, and this time there was no question where it was going. He cinched his belt around his bicep, pumped up a fat vein and plunged the needle in. When he loosened the belt, the dope hit his brain like a fifty-megaton orgasm.
After a few minutes, he hid his paraphernalia and climbed into bed. He curled up, clasping his hands between his knees. Bliss rode every nerve in his body. His belly felt awash in opium and molten chocolate.
“Kevin, will you come back with me?” Terri’s voice sang in his ear, and Kevin wished for the hundredth time that his sister would get married and leave him alone.
“Kevin, will you come back with me?” Her green, green eyes imploring him. He could feel himself bathed in her love and concern.
“Oh, Terri,” he moaned. “Leave me alone, will ya?” But the dope was making him giggle.
Waves of pleasure rolled through his body in languid swells. His mind was the translucent blue of a Bahamian sea. Guilt and fear could not survive in this heaven.
Almost lost against that blue ocean was a tiny, dark figure, like an insect crawling across a TV screen. But it was a man, a tiny man, waving to Kevin as if from the wrong end of a telescope.
Kevin smiled. Good news, the guy was giving him. Even though he couldn’t quite make out the words, he knew it was good news.
The tiny man was calling. Waving and calling in the blue. It was as if the tiny man was a castaway, and Kevin was a passing jet. He couldn’t make out the face, but he knew it was Toof.
Toof was calling to him from that blue immensity. Toof was telling him not to worry. It wasn’t so bad being dead. In fact, it was okay. No need to be afraid, Kevin. No need to be upset. Old Toof was fine, man. Everything was fine.
23
“YOU’RE CERTAIN HE’S DEAD?” Red Bear said. “I don’t want any surprises down the road.”
“He’s dead all right.” Leon turned the stereo up a notch, a top-of-the-line Marantz. And R.E.M., man, experience counts for a lot. You couldn’t beat those old bands. “Had to finish him off with a baseball bat, though.”
“Are you all right with it?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Leon shrugged. “The girl was a little tougher. I’m getting more used to it.”
“And this time you did it somewhere else, I hope. You didn’t go back to the falls again.”
“Naw. We drove way out near West Rock.”
The two of them were lying fully clothed on the huge bed Red Bear had had trucked up from Toronto. Teak or something, a four-poster with tons of fancy carving. He had a way with physical objects, Red Bear. Lamps with silky scarlet shades bathed the room in red light, giving the place a certain atmosphere, like a movie set.
There was a massive oak dresser by the window, with crystal candlesticks and a set of silver hairbrushes that Red Bear used to make his hair shine.
They had smoked a couple of joints. For some reason, Red Bear didn’t have any problem with weed. It was just the hard stuff he didn’t want them using. Good smoke, too. The music twisted and stretched and drooped in the air like taffy.
Red Bear turned on his side and gripped Leon’s bicep. “Thank you for being so loyal, Leon. I think you know loyalty means a lot to me.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Red Bear stared into his eyes. Leon couldn’t take it for very long; he had to look away.
“I got a question,” Leon said. “About the girl, and now with Toof.”
“Ask me.”
Leon had never before let a man touch him. Somehow, with Red Bear, there was nothing queer about it, nothing effeminate.
“How come you didn’t do them the way you did Wombat? You didn’t make them suffer. Didn’t cut them apart.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Maybe.”
Red Bear pointed to the ceiling. “The moon. The moon is not waxing just now. It’s waning. A sacrifice must always be done when the moon is waxing.”
“How come?”
“If you kill them when the moon is waning, their spirit will have power over you. That is the opposite of what you want.”
“Great. So now their spirits have power over me? I’m gonna be haunted?”
“Not at all. You didn’t sacrifice them. You didn’t invoke the spirits. And you did what you did with my blessing. My protection. And now I’m going to increase that protection one-hundredfold. Take your shirt off.”
Leon sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head. Red Bear went to the dresser and came back to the bed with an intricately carved wooden box. He opened it and pulled out a chain with a gold amulet hanging from it.
“Classy,” Leon said. “What do the symbols mean?”
“I have blessed this with the power of Oggun.”
Red Bear hung the chain around Leon’s neck. The amulet was cold against his chest.
“Oggun’s the one in charge of iron, right?”
Red Bear smiled. “Not just iron. All metals. Lead, for example. From this you will gain the powers of gold: its purity, its strength, its flexibility. Wear this, and bullets cannot harm you. They will pass right through your body without leaving a mark.”