15
HAWK and I tried to have dinner together once a week or so just as if we were regular people. After a session with Madelaine Roth, Hawk looked a lot more regular to me than he used to. We had a table against the wall in a storefront place called the East Coast Grill in Inman Square, where all the cooking was done over an open barbecue pit in the back, by a guy in a red baseball cap. I ordered the ribs, Hawk asked for grilled tuna.
"Don't dare order the ribs, do you?" I said.
"Heard it came with a wedge of watermelon," Hawk said.
"Your national cuisine," I said.
We were drinking Lone Star beer, in respect to the barbecue, and the first one went quickly. As we drank, people glanced covertly at Hawk. He was wearing white leather pants and a black silk shirt. His shaved head gleamed, and his movements were almost balletic: economical and surgically exact. He never moved for no reason. He never spoke to make conversation. His white leather jacket hung on the back of the chair, and if you paid attention to stuff like that, you could see where it hung a little lopsided from the weight of the gun in the right hand pocket. When he brought the beer glass to his lips you could see the muscles in his upper arm swell, stretching the silk of his shirt sleeve. The waitress brought us a second beer.
Hawk said, "Guy named Bobby Deegan came by to see me."
"Bobby gets around," I said.
"You know him?" Hawk said.
"Came by my office this morning," I said. "Urged me to lay off a thing I was looking into."
"S'pose you said, 'sho nuff, Bobby,"' Hawk said.
"I was going to," I said. "But my chin was trembling so bad it was hard to talk."
"Ah," Hawk said. "That why Bobby looking to have you clipped."
"Clipped?"
"Un huh."
"A sweetie like me?"
"Un huh."
"Gee," I said. "I thought I'd won him over."
"Guess not," Hawk said. "Bobby come in to Henry's looking for me. Said he needed some pest removal work done. Heard I was in that business."
I shook my head. "Pest removal," I said. "That hurts."
"Can see why it would," Hawk said.
The waitress came and brought ribs for me and tuna for Hawk. On the plate with my ribs were some beans, some watermelon and a big piece of cornbread.
Hawk looked at the slab of ribs. "Mighta made an error," Hawk said.
"Tuna's good for you," I said.
"Sure," Hawk said. "So I ask Bobby where he heard that, and he said, guy he'd done some business with in town. I say 'gimme a name.' He say ..." Hawk smiled happily, " 'Gerry Broz.' "
I said, "A blast from the past."
Hawk cut a morsel off his tuna and inspected. It was pink, as promised. Hawk nodded his head once and put the tuna into his mouth and chewed. He nodded once again, and swallowed.
"So I figure the guy's probably straight, using Joe's kid's name, anybody can know Joe's, but most folks don't know 'bout Gerry.
"So I say what's the pest's name, and he say you."
I was struggling happily with my ribs. Normally I ended up with barbecue sauce in my socks when I ate ribs, but I always figured they were worth it.
"What's he paying?" I said when I could.
"Five bills," Hawk said.
"For crissake," I said, "Harry Cotton was offering that, when, seven, eight years ago."
"Yeah, well, Bobby's out of town, he don't know 'bout you. So, I say, 'You tell Gerry who you want hit?' And he say, 'No, what's the difference?' and I say, 'No difference.' "
Hawk ate a couple of grilled vegetables. I ate some beans. Hawk drank some beer, patted his lips carefully with his napkin, put it back on his lap.
"So Bobby say, 'Well?' And I say, 'Well what?' and Bobby say, `You want the job?' and I say, 'No.' And Bobby say, 'How come?' and I just look at him for a while and Bobby say, 'Well, okay, fine, you don't want it.' And I just looking at him and he say, 'You got any suggestions?' and I say, `No' and Bobby takes a walk."
I shook my head. "Five grand," I said. "That's insulting."
"Hey," Hawk said, "I just reporting the news."
I nodded. My ribs were gone, also the beans and the watermelon and the combread. Also my beer. I'd done another good job at the table.
"These are serious guys," I said. "Bobby came into my office this morning, offered a bribe, made a threat, neither one worked, so he went right out and found you."
"And when I said no he probably went on and found somebody else not as good," Hawk said. He was working on his supper now that it was my turn to talk.
"The only one as good would be me," I said, "and I wouldn't do it either."
"Still, they probably find some people willing," Hawk said. "Not everybody know better."
"Sucker born every minute," I said.
"What you into?" Hawk said.
"Basketball," I said.
"The national sport," Hawk said, "of ma people. Better tell me about it."
I did. While I did, Hawk finished his meal, the waiter came and cleared it and brought dessert menus.
"The bread pudding with whiskey sauce," I said to Hawk.
Hawk held up two fingers to the waiter and said, "Bread pudding."
We were eating the pudding by the time I got to Madelaine Roth. And I finished with Madelaine and the pudding at about the same time.
"What you think 'bout Bobby," Hawk said when I got through.
"I think that cheerful, pally act is a very thin veneer over a very tough guy," I said.
Hawk nodded. "Yeah," he said. "How 'bout I cruise around with you a while. Might meet me some adventurous coeds."
"Yeah," I said, "might be able to help me get Dwayne's attention too."
"Or Chantel's," Hawk said.
"Hawk," I said, "Dwayne is, you gotta remember, approximately the size of Harlem."
"There's that," Hawk said.
"Besides, I think we're trying to help him," I said.
"What's this we, white man? You the helper, I just along to see how it goes."
"Mr. Warm," I said.
The waiter brought the check. Hawk picked it up, looked at it and handed it to me.
16
THE next time I went to see Dwayne Woodcock, Hawk came with me. We found Dwayne in the spa in the Student Union drinking a Coke in a booth with two other kids. I recognized them. One was Kenny Green, the off guard, and a reserve forward named Daryl Pope. Dwayne looked up and said something to the other two. There was some laughter.
"Dwayne," I said. "We need to talk."
Dwayne was playing to his friends. "I don't need to talk, man. You need to talk whyn't you go someplace and talk?" He made the last word stretch. Hawk came up and leaned against the comer of the booth. All three kids looked at Hawk uneasily.
"I had a chat with Bobby Deegan," I said. Everyone at the table got a little stiffer when I said Deegan's name.
"I don't know nobody by that name, man," Dwayne said. "Sounds like some dumb fucking Irishman to me."
Dwayne's buddies laughed along with him. "Don't that sound like that to you?" Dwayne said.
"Sounds like that to me," one of his buddies said.
I looked at Hawk. I was getting tired of college kids. Dwayne was especially easy to get tired of.
"Want me to shoot one?" Hawk said. All three turned and looked at him.
"Who you talking to, man?" Dwayne said. Hawk turned his head slowly and looked at him, carefully. Then he looked at the other two, just as carefully.
Basketball players are big, and it's been years since they were reedy. There was nothing in Hawk's look that I could see that was anything but neutrally interested. He didn't say anything. But when he was through looking at them, all three kids had stopped laughing. Green and Pope looked at Dwayne, he looked back at Hawk for a minute, and then looked at me.
"You bring some fucking dude around, say he's going to shoot us?"
"Dude," I said to Hawk.
"Talks like all those bad-ass black guys on television, don't he," Hawk said.
"Heart of the ghetto," I said, "pulse beat of the streets."
Hawk leaned a little forward toward Dwayne and spoke softly.