I told her the plan and she handed me the key to Olivet’s back door. She kissed me on the mouth and said she knew the safe was full. Then her eyes narrowed and she asked, “When do I meet Michael?”
“Hasn’t come up,” I said. I didn’t like how quick she was to ask that.
“How about tonight, how about I ride with you to the meet? I’ll drive Pop’s van home and pick you up after it’s over.”
“Michael might not go for it,” I said, hedging.
She closed her fingers around my arm and pulled me tight to her. On tiptoes, she kissed me again and let my hands
“C’mon, Jackie, we’ll have some fun later,” she said, and pushed me off, playing. Her fingertips grazed across my zipper. She was driving Pop’s van to Chick Hall’s that night around 11:00. She always got her way.
On our way there, we passed a group of kids hanging out at the intersection of Bladensburg and South Dakota, in front of Highball Liquors, too late for kids so young to be out. They were yelling at each car passing by. I felt better. With cops around, no kids do that.
When we turned through the light, the kid nearest my window screamed, “Honky!” He flipped me the finger and pumped his fist in the air. Jeanette pushed the gas a little harder.
Chick Hall’s was near Peace Cross, in a strip of crummy stores on Bladensburg Road. Ten miles past Chick’s was all country.
We pulled into the lot, behind the bar, and I glanced over at Jeanette. The glare from an alley streetlamp sprayed across her face. She slid the tip of her tongue between closed lips and moved her head side to side, searching the stretch of empty lots.
She picked a spot next to the dumpster, in the darkest corner, and cut the engine. A dark sedan, hidden in the night shadows, blinked its lights once, and the doors sprung open. Michael and two strangers spilled out.
Jeanette watched Michael lead his crew across the lot toward us. They looked like killers, dressed in black from head to toe. Jeanette licked her lips.
“He’s handsome,” she said. She wouldn’t take her eyes off Michael, and leaned forward in her seat.
“Michael said alone,” I reminded her. She looked at me like she’d forgotten who I was.
“Does it matter?” she said. I wished my brother Richie was one of them. Jeanette jumped from Pop’s van, slammed the door, and propped herself against the front fender. I moved quick, to be by her side. Michael walked right up to us without saying a word. The two with him split apart and flanked us. Michael glanced at me, then nodded his head to the guy near my shoulder.
“That’s Ray,” he said, and the guy’s face pinched together like a smile hurt him. Michael called the other guy his boy, and said his name was Dee. A thick rope of scar cut through Dee’s right eye.
“You the smart girl?” Michael said to Jeanette. He moved closer like he might sniff at her, like some dog.
“Maybe,” she said, “smart enough.” Michael’s eyes traveled from her ankles to her eyes.
“Surprised I hadn’t noticed you before,” he said.
“That’s okay, I’ll be around.”
“Cut the shit, Romeo,” Ray said to Michael, “we got work to do.”
A noise, like a laugh, came from Dee. Jeanette looked at Ray like I’d seen her look at bugs.
“You got the key?” Michael said to me, but still stared at Jeanette. She reached into her pocket to retrieve it. Her jack t opened and she drew in a deep breath and pushed her breasts out. Michael didn’t miss a thing. She held the key between her thumb and index finger and extended her hand toward Michael. He held his hand still, palm up. When the key came close, he touched the side of her hand with his fingers, and she dropped the key.
“Be careful,” she said. I wanted her talking to me, but she wasn’t.
“Don’t worry,” Michael said.
I sneaked my arm around Jeanette’s waist and pulled her closer to me. Michael didn’t blink. She couldn’t keep from staring.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I tried to kiss Jeanette, but she tilted her face away, like she did with fresh makeup, and blew a kiss. I followed the three of them across the lot to the dark sedan.
Michael tossed me the keys. He jumped in the front seat and motioned me behind the wheel. Ray perched in back. Dee stared at me from the rearview mirror. The scar jagged through his eye and left his eyeball milk-white, like a boiled egg. He shifted in the seat and the twin barrels of a sawed-off shotgun poked out between the buttons of his overcoat. He took his time covering them up.
“See what you want, boy,” he said.
Michael motioned me to start the car. “Do the speed limit and don’t run any lights.”
“I thought you weren’t worried about cops,” I said.
“I’m not. Just drive and shut the fuck up. I’ll do the thinking.”
Pop called it right about Michael, he was no friend, but it was too late. Richie wasn’t around this time to bail me out. I took Bladensburg to Kenilworth heading toward the city, and passed commercial buildings and scrap joints left stranded on empty streets. I thought about Jeanette’s sweet lips against mine and mashed down on the gas.
“Easy,” Ray said. Hot breath laced with stale booze pushed against the back of my ear. I let off the gas and he settled into the backseat. I scoped every intersection for law, but no cops were in sight.
At the D.C. line, I turned off Kenilworth onto Eastern Avenue and headed into Deanwood. Before we came to the tracks, I turned right onto Olive Street and slowed down to a crawl. Olive dead-ended into Polk, and Olivet’s alley opened across the intersection. All the houses and apartments sat dark, like everyone had turned in, like real people, like Pop.
I glanced again in the rearview mirror and saw Dee’s milk eye blink once, slow motion, then his good eye zeroed into mine. The shotgun lay across his thighs.
“Eyes on the road,” Ray said, nudging me in the shoulder.
We stopped at Polk, facing the alley. To the left, a walk-way disappeared under the tracks into a concrete tunnel, black from soot off the overhead trains. The last garage in gasoline alley was half a block to my right. The streetlights were out
“Let’s go,” Michael said.
I cut the lights and coasted across Polk onto the gravel alley. The night swallowed us up. I kept my foot off the gas, careful not to tap the brakes, afraid of the red glare. Loose stones grumbled beneath the sedan’s weight. The weeds from the tracks side of the alley swept against my side of the sedan, grabbing, like living things trying to hold me back.
I steered a little closer to the fences that separated us from the garages. Nothing stirred.
“There’s his light,” I said, and pointed ahead to the familiar white-washed building that appeared from the darkness like a ghost.
“Stop here,” Ray said.
I touched the brakes and winced, waiting for the red glare.
“Ray disconnected the lights,” Michael said, and chuckled to himself. Ray said something about me under his breath.
“Make a U-turn,” Michael directed. I looked up at the little patch of yellow light shining through the door that led to Jeanette’s and my future.
“Face out the alley and keep the engine running,” Michael said, “we won’t be long.”
I adjusted the rearview so I could watch the landing at the top of the metal stairs and the door with the light. Olivet’s Cadillac snugged close against the side of the building, hiding beneath the stairs.
Michael swiveled in his seat and faced the others. Dee slipped a shell in each barrel and snapped the shotgun closed. The hair at my neck stood up. They lingered outside the car for a second, talking too soft for me to hear, then I watched them creep across the lot to the bottom of the stairs.