There was nothing about me in Saturday’s paper. The Sunday paper had an article about me buried in the Metro section, and this time there were no pictures. Both Saturday and Sunday I went to the same diner for breakfast that I’d been going to every morning. It turned out Lucinda didn’t work weekends, which I was disappointed about. The waitress working in her place was a stout gray-haired woman in her fifties and just as surly as Lucinda had been that first day, but at least she didn’t recognize me. Not too many people seemed to. A few did, I could tell from their rubbernecking, and from the shift in their expression – from curiosity to something more like fear, but probably no more than ten people the whole weekend, at least as far as I could tell. None of these people bothered saying anything to me. Some would just move faster to get away from me, others would slow down to get a better look, but not a single word from any of them.
Sunday afternoon I thought about going to the horse track to try to parlay my dwindling funds into something more substantial, at least that’s what I tried telling myself. The truth was I missed going to the track. It wasn’t even the gambling as much as watching the horses. They were such magnificent animals. At one point I had dreamed of owning a race horse. I’d had enough money socked away where I could’ve done it, but then I would’ve had to explain to Jenny how I came up with all that money working at a liquor store. And Lombard would not have been happy with me doing something like that. Part of the deal had been for me to keep a low profile.
In the end I skipped going to the track and went to a free movie at the library instead. Too many people would’ve recognized me if I had gone to the track, and they were people better off not recognizing me.
It wasn’t until Monday morning when my cell phone rang again. Like before, the caller ID indicated the source of the call was unavailable. I let it ring through without answering it. Five minutes later when the phone rang again, I flipped it open and asked who was calling. At first there was nothing but static, then a man’s voice telling me to enjoy life while I still could. It sounded like it could’ve been the same voice I had heard before, but I wasn’t sure.
“You’re such a tough guy,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me this face to face.”
There was another long static-like silence where I wasn’t sure whether he had hung up. Then, “You’ll be seeing me soon enough, March,” and then a click as he ended the call.
Before that, I had been up for hours sitting in my recliner reading one of the books I had taken out of the library. I had a large stack of them piled up next to my chair. As I mentioned before, it was the best way I knew to kill those early morning hours and keep past memories at bay. It was a little past nine o’clock and the call had left me no longer in the mood to do any more reading. I got up and headed to the bathroom where I showered as much of the grime off of me as I could, then doused myself with cheap cologne. Each day the stench of prison was getting a little bit less. I could still smell it on me, but it took more of an effort now.
Lucinda was back at work Monday morning. At ten o’clock when I arrived there the place was mostly empty, and she gave me a wink on seeing me. Later, when I ordered French toast and sausage instead of my usual breakfast, she put her hands to her chest as if she were having a heart attack, then showed me a wry smile, commenting on how my brains were too scrambled to remember my “usual”. She chewed the fat with me for a few minutes, and between her sarcastic cracks, she let on that she was thinking of going back for a GED degree, maybe even college someday. When she came back with a pot of coffee, any suspicions she might’ve had after overhearing that so-called writer the other day were long gone.
I was about to leave when this biker-type walked in, and the way he stared at Lucinda put me back in my seat. He was in his twenties, a big guy wearing a black leather biker’s jacket, jeans, and biker boots. Tattoos decorated his neck and shaved skull.
Lucinda noticed him also and was trying to bravely stare him down, but I could see the worry creasing her brow. The guy walked up to her and grabbed her arm roughly. She tried to pull free but couldn’t.
“You bitch,” he said. “You gonna let me buy you drinks all night, then slip me like that? Fuck that.”
I walked over to him and told him to let go of her. He stared at me as if I were nuts.
“Gramps, this is none of your business. Beat it before you hurt your hip.” “Let go of her or I’ll break your fucking wrist.”
That just annoyed him even more. He reached out to push me away. I stepped aside and grabbed him by his fingers and twisted them back until he fell to his knees.
“You better fucking let go,” he demanded. He was helpless in the position I had him in. I increased the pressure until tears came to his eyes.
“A little more pressure and your wrist snaps,” I told him.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Really? With two broken wrists? ’Cause after I break this one I’m breaking the other.”
Lucinda had been watching this quietly. “Should I call the police?” she asked me.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I addressed the guy on his knees, the one whose wrist I was nearly breaking. “How much did you spend on drinks last night?”
“Fifty bucks,” he forced out.
With my free hand I took my wallet from my pocket and handed it to Lucinda. “Count out fifty dollars and give it to this scumbag.” After she did that I told the guy he had two choices, accept the money and get the fuck out of there or have more than his wrist broken. I let go of him then.
He stood up holding his wrist as if I had broken it, which I hadn’t. For a moment it looked like he wanted to take a swing at me, but instead he pocketed the money and called me a fucking lunatic before heading out the door. Lucinda stared at me with amazement. “I’m breathless right now,” she said, and she sounded it.
She had me sit back down, and brought me over a piece of cherry pie and a fresh coffee. I sat for a while eating while she kept me company. When I told her I better get going, she looked worried.
“He might be out there looking for you,” she said.
“Nah, he’s a coward.” I hesitated, then asked, “Whatever possessed you to let someone like that buy you drinks?”
She smiled at that. “I ended up ditching him, didn’t I?”
I couldn’t help smiling back at her. I nodded to her as I left the diner. I looked around to see if he was out there waiting for me, but I guess he had better sense than to be waiting for a lunatic.
Later that morning I went back to the store that sold me my cell phone, but the salesman I had dealt with still wasn’t there. The only person working in the store was the same salesgirl I had tried talking to earlier, and she looked horrified when she saw me walk back into the place. I didn’t bother talking to her, and instead just turned around and left.
It was a warmish October day and the sun felt good on my face. With nothing else to do, I took a walk down some side streets and ended up stumbling upon the Charles River. I walked along it until I found a grassy spot where I could sit and watch the water. My pop used to tell me how he swam in the Charles River when he was growing up, but by the time I was a kid the river had gotten too polluted for anything like that. Not only was it a yellowish brown color but you could smell the chemicals and sewage that came off of it. Now as I sat there the water looked clean. I wondered briefly whether it actually was or if it was an illusion with the muck and filth still there but better hidden beneath the surface.
Looking out over the water, my thoughts slowly drifted to Jenny. She had to know early on that I was involved in some sort of shady business. We had too nice a home and too many other nice possessions for me to have just been working at a liquor store, and she was too smart not to know I couldn’t’ve made all that extra money betting on the horses like I used to tell her I did. I’m sure she never suspected me of being a hit man, but she knew something was up. There were those times I’d catch her giving me an odd look before she’d realize it and correct it. And then there were those times when I would need to leave town for days or longer, and those questions she’d swallow back when I would return home. It must’ve crushed her when she found out the truth, but even then she tried to hide it from me and put a brave face on. She never abandoned me, and right up until the end before cancer got her, I knew she would’ve been waiting for me if she could’ve.