Some men were like that, but not Earl. Back when Earl was married to Ray's mother, Margo, God have mercy on her soul, he'd shown her the back of his hand and even a fist once or twice, when she got real brave and disrespectful behind that gin she liked to drink. The gin took her liver eventually. At the end, when she was on those machines with the tubes running out her nose, waiting on a transplant, he'd almost apologized for those times he'd raised his hand to her, but it was not in his nature to do so, and the moment had passed. Hell, he knew she'd never get a liver from the start. It would go to some rich person, even if that person was below her on the list. That was the way the world worked. He'd known it from the time he'd fallen out his cradle and begun to walk on two feet.
Now Edna was driving the truck out of the yard and down the gravel road.
Earl got into his winter jacket. He put his smokes and lighter in one pocket and his.38 in the other. He picked up his six-pack cooler and turned out the lamp in his room. Looked like Ray was done tamperin' with the car, and right about now he'd be looking to move out, nervous and ready to roll. Nervous in that way he got, when somethin' was about to happen.
13
Nestor Rodriguez saw the Taurus enter the parking lot and snake up and down the rows of cars. Ray Boone always looked for cops and DEA types in unmarked vehicles when he pulled into the lot. Nestor had already checked and was satisfied that there was no problem, as these kinds of cars were very easy to spot. But Ray was the kind of person who needed to know this for himself.
Into the phone Nestor said, 'They're here,' and, still watching the Taurus in his rear- and sideview mirrors, added, 'Wait until I tell you, then lock your car down and walk on over to mine.'
Ray Boone parked the Taurus next to Nestor's Contour. Nestor's eyes went past the old man, unshaven and looking like a two-day drunk as usual, and on to Ray, who was seated behind the wheel. Nestor nodded to Ray as he spoke into the phone: 'All right, Lizardo, come on.'
'How do our friends look today?' said Lizardo.
'Don't be funny,' said Nestor, smiling slightly at Ray through the window as he spoke. 'The little jerkoff doesn't like your humor. We just want to do our business and get on our way. And no Spanish, Lizardo; he doesn't like that, either.'
'Okay,' said Lizardo. 'Here I come.'
Nestor cradled the phone. He didn't like the playful sound in his brother's voice. Going back to when the two of them were kids, Lizardo was always with the jokes.
Lizardo exited his car, locked it, checked the locks, and walked along the row of cars, dropping his keys in his pocket. He wore his hair in the same fashion as his brother's but did not shave between his eyebrows, leaving one long brow like a furry black caterpillar stretched out across the base of his forehead. He had a small mustache, but no hair on his chin, and dressed with less regard for style than his brother. He bought his clothing at Target and Montgomery Ward. He didn't like fabrics that wrinkled and wondered why fools paid extra for fabrics that did. At home, he often slept in his clothes when he'd had too much to drink.
Nestor got out of the Contour, locked it, and met Lizardo at the back of the car. He opened the trunk and flipped over the indoor / outdoor carpet piece that normally covered a well holding the spare but that now covered five identical gym bags with Adidas logos printed on their sides. He lifted two of the gym bags out, replaced the carpet, and locked the trunk. His movements were fluid, and both he and his brother were very calm.
Nestor and Lizardo split up, Nestor going to one side of the Taurus and Lizardo going to the other, and entered the backseat of the car.
'Hello, Ray,' said Nestor. 'Hello, Earl.'
'Ho-la, amigos,' said Ray.
'How do, Earl,' said Lizardo, clapping Earl on the shoulder.
'How do,' said Earl. He popped the ring on a can of Busch and took a long swig.
'Lie on down back there,' said Ray. 'It ain't far.'
They didn't protest. This small thing seemed to put Ray at ease. Nestor and Lizardo arranged themselves the way they had many times before. Nestor let his legs dangle off the bench and put his face down on the seat, and Lizardo did the same in the opposite direction. Nestor's face was inches away from Lizardo's ass.
'Here we go,' said Ray, backing out of his spot.
They had been on the interstate for a mile or so when Nestor heard a kind of sharp squeak. Then came an awful, wretched smell from the seat of Lizardo's pants.
'Lizardo,' said Nestor. 'Please.'
'I can't help it, Nestor. The huevos rancheros I had this morning, at the Denny's on the interstate…'
'You can help it! You're forcing it out; I can hear the sound!'
'I'm sorry,' said Lizardo.
But he wasn't sorry. And he couldn't help but giggle when he heard his brother gag.
Nestor felt the car slow down and then, after a sharp turn, the gravel beneath their tires as they drove onto the Boone property. The car kept going for a while, slowly, and finally came to a stop.
'Y'all can get up,' said Ray, as he killed the engine.
All of them got out of the car. The yard was cluttered with tires and oil drums, old brake pads, cinder blocks, upended logs, a rusted-out backhoe. A Prussian helmet was hung by its chin strap on the sissy bar of an old Harley, and a plastic buck's head was nailed over the barn door. The house beside the barn was badly in need of paint. A dead plant hung from the ceiling of the porch, and the porch listed to one side.
White trash, thought Nestor. You can give them money, but money will never buy them style.
'Let's go inside,' said Ray, 'warm up some while we work.'
They walked toward the barn. Ray checked out Nestor, holding the gym bags loosely at his side. Nestor with his shiny suit, big pads under the shoulders, and those pointed spick shoes he liked, weaved on the sides like a basket. Colder than the tits on an old sow today, and here goes Nestor, wearing shoes with holes in 'em. Ray knew Nestor liked the ladies, and he bet that this brown boy thought he looked pretty attractive, dressed the way he was. He once told Ray that the girls called him Nestor the Molester down in Florida, and he was proud of it, too. Well, maybe they went for that look down there, but up in Maryland, out here in the country? He looked pretty goddamned stupid, you asked Ray.
'Hey, Nestor,' said Ray, 'how much you drop on that suit, a buck?'
'Buck and a half,' said Nestor defensively.
'How about it, Daddy? Think I'd look good in a suit like that?'
'Huh,' grunted Earl.
It was warm inside the barn. They had a couple drinks, Ray insisting on pouring them shots of tequila, the gold kind he had sitting up on the top shelf behind the bar, to go with their beers. Earl sat with them at one of those tables with green felt on it, the type cardplayers used, while Ray went into that secret room of his to scale out the brown, make sure it weighed out to two full Ks. Ray claimed to have some chemical kind of test back there he ran it through, too, though Nestor had never actually seen the kit.
Earl didn't say much while Nestor and Lizardo sipped their tequilas and beers. He smoked a cigarette and then another, nodding when Nestor tried to include him in the conversation but not giving up more than the nod or a 'yep' or 'uh-huh' here and there.
'Take it easy with that,' said Nestor, pointing to the Cuervo bottle that Lizardo was lifting off the table and bringing to his glass.
'Just a taste,' said Lizardo, pouring three fingers and setting the bottle back down on the felt.
Nestor didn't like to be around Lizardo when he drank. Liquor made his brother more stupid, and much sillier, than he already was.