Meche and I were thrown out of the gondola and drifted downward. “Oh, no,” I heard her groan as we sank, “not again.”
The water was dark but I could make out an even darker shape moving towards us. We couldn’t swim. Skeletons have no buoyancy, and our clothes only dragged us down, so we waited for whatever it was. It reached out and grabbed Meche first, then me. Instead of being torn apart, we were tucked under one arm each as the shape propelled us upwards.
“You’re lucky I’ve got such good eyesight,” Glottis said once we’d broken the surface.
Hot Rod Bop
Glottis swam toward the nearest of Rubacava’s islands and set us down once we got to shore. “Ah, Rubacava!” he exclaimed as Meche and I wrung out our clothes as best we could. “What a town! Remember the glory days, Manny?”
“Long gone, my friend,” I answered. “There’s nothing here for us now.”
“’Cept maybe our old car,” Glottis said.
“You may be right,” I said. “I hope so. It’ll make the trip to El Marrow a lot easier.”
“Not to mention the trip back,” Meche said.
“Well, once we get the tickets,” I said, “you can take the train.”
Meche didn’t say anything to that.
When we were more or less dry, we headed into town, finding ourselves near the docks. From the look of things, we were in the area furthest from where the Bone Wagon had been stored.
As we walked along the street, a rough but quiet voice said, “Calavera…”
I jumped and spun toward the voice. “You guys go on,” I said when I saw who it was deep in the shadows of a dark storefront. “I’ll catch up in a little while.”
“Manny…” Meche began.
“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s an old friend.” I hoped.
Meche and Glottis reluctantly went on while I walked over to where Toto stood in front of his shop.
“So, you come back,” he said, almost as an accusation.
“Just passing through,” I said. “I’ve got some business in El Marrow.”
“Hmpf,” Toto said quietly. He turned to go into his shop, shooting a glance over his shoulder that told me to follow.
“Never thought I would see you again,” Toto said once we were inside. I didn’t say anything. There was something about the way he was acting. His shop was even more of a mess than I remembered it. “Imagine my surprise when I hear Naranja had been sprouted, and him passed out on my cot all the time.”
“Well,” I said, thinking that following Toto had been a really dumb thing to do, “mistakes happen.”
“Funny mistake,” he said. “You come into my shop, Naranja goes into deep sleep. Next day, they say he be sprouted and you gone away on Limbo. Very funny.”
I kept quiet.
“Membrillo had his ID,” Toto said. “Very, very funny.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Hysterical.”
Toto turned away and walked over to the counter. He picked up a dark bottle and took a long swallow. I noticed his right arm. There was a huge chunk missing from the humerus. I could see marrow. “Toto…” I began.
“I don’t see Lola for days,” he interrupted. “No one see her. I ask questions. Put pieces together.”
“Toto,” I said, “your arm… what happened to your arm?”
“Nick Virago,” he snarled, spitting the syllables out like broken teeth.
“You confronted him… about Lola?”
He nodded.
“What’d he do? Attack you with a meat cleaver?”
“He shoot me,” he answered.
I felt cold and angry. “How did you survive?” I demanded to know.
Toto opened a cabinet and tossed me a small canister. “Liquid nitrogen,” he said. “Nick laugh and say I see Lola soon. Leave me to sprout. I pour this on wound, dig out sproutella.”
I shivered. I made to hand the canister back but he said, “Keep it. Maybe you need it.” He took another long belt from his bottle. “Go now before I regret doing you this favor.”
I nodded, understanding. I went to the door, but stopped before opening it and said, “You know, I didn’t want any of that shit to happen.”
“I know it,” he said, “but still I hate you.”
“Not as much as I hate myself,” I said, stepping through and closing the door behind me.
I walked away, looking back occasionally. Just in case.
I caught up with Meche and Glottis. They were dawdling.
“What happened?” Meche asked.
“Oh, Toto just wanted to… talk over old times,” I answered.
“I can tell when you’re lying, Manny,” she scolded.
“I don’t want to talk about it, all right?” I snapped, instantly regretting my bad temper.
“Well, just say so.” Meche managed to sound acerbic and sympathetic at the same time.
“OK, OK,” I groused.
We walked on in silence for a while.
“There’s the fucking lighthouse,” I grumbled sourly. Grumpy old man feeling sorry for himself. Again. Meche shot me an understanding look. Somehow, that made me feel just a little bit better.
We got to where the Bone Wagon was stored, unless Velasco or someone had moved it. Glottis heaved on the doors but they didn’t budge.
“I think they’re stuck,” he said sheepishly.
Before I could think of a wise-ass comment, Glottis pulled again and the doors moved with a metallic shriek.
“Rusty,” I said.
“Yeah,” Glottis said. “I guess no one’s been in here for a while.”
He yanked the doors fully open and we all went in.
“I’d better check the engine,” Glottis said. “It’ll probably take a little work to get ’er runnin’ good again.”
“If she’s just been sitting here for the past two years, yeah,” I agreed.
“I’ve always wanted another ride in this car,” Meche said, stroking the Bone Wagon’s single headlight as Glottis started his tinkering.
“It kind of funny,” I said, “this thing you have for hot rods.”
“Then I guess you don’t know everything about me yet,” she said, shooting me a wicked ‘grin’.
“Hey, Manny,” Glottis exclaimed, “c’mere! I don’t like the look of those wires!”
I looked where he was pointing, then sprawled to look under the car. “There’s a nasty-looking bulge down here.” I sat up and looked around. “Let’s see if that flashlight still works.” Meche looked toward where I pointed, grabbed the flash and tossed it toward me. I snagged it out of the air and found it did still work. I shined it underneath the Bone Wagon and got a good look at the lump under the engine. “Fiendish,” I said, almost admiring the filthy thing. “Well,” I added as I stood up, “there’s a mercury switch, too. If we start the engine, boom, and if we shift this beast any, still boom.” Glottis went pale. To him, the Bone Wagon was more a lover than a car. “Looks like Domino left his calling card.”
“But… how? I saw him torn to shreds!” Meche exclaimed. She glanced over at Glottis, who showed no reaction.
“He must have done this on his last trip through town,” I said. “Now I know what he meant by the Bone Wagon looking ‘dangerous’.” I shook my head. “That guy takes the prize.”
“I guess it’s lucky you guys didn’t go for a drive after he did this,” Meche said.