Right as Rain

In the back room, Ray broke open a spansule of meth, poured the white speckled contents onto the crook of his thumb, and snorted it all into his nose at once. He paced around the room, hungry for a smoke, his heart beating rapidly. He did a set of preacher curls, then opened the door that led to the saloon area and stuck his head out into the room.

'Nestor, Lizardo! Come on back and get your money!'

Nestor looked at Lizardo and shrugged. They got up from the table and walked to the back room. Earl butted his smoke and followed. When all of them were in the room, Ray closed the door behind them.

Nestor had been curious about the back room. He had never been asked to come inside it, but now that he was here he felt somewhat disappointed. There was a tool bench, some shotguns in a case, a setup to cook drugs, a couple of safes, a weight bench, free weights strewn about, and a stack of porno magazines on a small table near the bathroom. It looked very much like the room Nestor kept in the basement of his house.

'Everything all right?' said Nestor.

'It all checked out fine,' said Ray.

'Then we'll just take our money and get on our way.'

'You got the rest of the run to make, right?'

'This is our first stop, Ray, same as always.'

'Must be worried about the rest of your load, settin' back there in the trunks of those cars.'

'If I'm worried,' said Nestor, smiling cheerfully, 'then it is my worry.'

Lizardo laughed a little. Nestor could see from the familiar glassy sheen to Lizardo's eyes that his brother was feeling the tequilas and beers.

'Somethin' funny?' said Ray.

'It's the boots, menino,' said Lizardo, his eyes traveling down to the custom Dingos on Ray's feet.

'What's that word, me-nino?' said Ray.

Nestor nearly winced. Menino meant 'little man.' It was something you would call a boy.

Nestor said, 'It's another word for amigo, Ray. It's like calling you a friend.'

'I like the boots,' said Lizardo. 'Honest, Ray. And the heels! Tell me, where could I get some like those?'

'What for?' asked Ray suspiciously.

Lizardo grinned. 'I'd like to bring a pair back for my woman.'

Ray took a step forward. Earl stifled a grin.

'He don't mean nothin', Critter,' said Earl. 'He's just havin' a little fun with you, is all. Go on and give these boys their money.'

Ray went to the tool bench, picked up the gym bags the Rodriguez brothers had brought with them, and handed them to Nestor. Nestor unzipped one bag and looked inside.

'Count it,' said Ray.

'I don't need to count it,' said Nestor. 'We are going to be in business together for a long time.'

'Hey, Ray,' said Lizardo, nodding to the weight bench. 'You really pick up all that yourself?'

'Damn straight,' said Ray. 'Two hundred and fifty pounds. I'll bench that motherfucker all day.'

'Let's go, brother,' said Nestor.

'What,' said Ray, 'you don't think I can?'

'I don't know,' said Lizardo, winking at Nestor. 'You look pretty strong, but

'I'll show you,' said Ray. 'And not just one, either. I'm gonna do a set of ten, how about that?'

Lizardo made a spreading motion with his hands. 'You want to show me, man, pfft, show me.'

'Jerkoffs,' said Nestor, stepping between Earl and the weight bench.

Ray stripped off his flannel, leaving on only his white T-shirt. He lay back on the bench, the pad of which had the word Brutus spelled across it. He got a grip on the bar, took a couple of deep breaths, and pushed the bar off the towers on which it rested. He bench-pressed the barbell once, twice, three times, counting aloud the reps, veins emerging on his forehead and neck. He benched it ten times and gently returned the bar to its place on the towers.

Ray sat up, checked his arms briefly, and smiled up at Lizardo. 'Now you.'

'You don't think I can?'

'Now you,' said Ray.

'Vamonos, Lizardo,' said Nestor.

'Y'all ain't gonna vamonos nowhere until he benches this bar,' said Ray. 'I did it; now he's gonna do it. C'mon, Li-zardo, can't you do it?'

'I can do it,' said Lizardo. 'But do I have to take off my shirt?' It sounded like 'chirt.'

Lizardo laughed shortly and lay down on the bench. He gripped, ungripped, and regripped the bar. He took a deep breath and held it in. Ray moved behind the towers and centered himself for the spot.

'One!' shouted Lizardo, as he raised the bar. Immediately he knew that he could only do but two or three. The weight was much heavier than he had imagined it would be.

'Two!' he said, his voice weak. He barely got the bar up to where his elbows locked. He brought it down slowly to his chest, breathed in, and pushed with everything he had.

He didn't count this time. It was difficult to get the bar up at all. His arms burned and shook, and he felt his face grow hot. The bar was only halfway up and it wouldn't, couldn't go any farther. He looked up pleadingly at Ray.

'I got it,' said Ray. He reached over the towers and gripped the bar, pulling it up toward him.

'You got it?' said Lizardo.

'I got it,' said Ray.

Lizardo let go of the bar and allowed his hands to fall to his sides. Ray drew the bar up to the height of the towers. He looked over at his father and smiled stupidly.

'Hey, Daddy,' said Ray, as he released the bar.

Lizardo screamed, watching the barbell fall. The bar crushed his Adam's apple and windpipe, and broke his neck. For a moment, but only for a moment, Lizardo saw the spray of blood that he coughed up into the room.

Nestor dropped the gym bags. His hands shook wildly as he fumbled inside his jacket for the.9.

Earl drew his.38 and shot Nestor in the back of the head. Nestor's black hair crested, a wave of crimson arcing out above it, and as he pitched forward Earl shot him between the shoulder blades. When Nestor hit the ground, his legs kicking, Earl put his palm out above the hammer of the.38 and shot Nestor once more behind his ear.

Ray laughed nervously, squinting at his father through the cordite. There was only Ray's laughter for a while, and a ringing sound in their ears.

Earl slipped the.38 back into his jacket. He checked his clothing for blowback and saw that he was clean. He was glad he'd put his palm out as a shield. He washed his hands in the sink.

'Got a smoke, Daddy?'

'Yep.'

Earl shook one out for himself and one for his son. He flipped open the Zippo, thumbed the wheel, and got flame.

Earl dragged and exhaled. 'You plan that?'

'Kind of came to me,' said Ray, 'while we were out in the saloon, havin' our drinks.'

'You were plannin' it, you shoulda told me.'

'Seemed like an opportunity. Coleman was havin' a problem with those boys-'

'He asked you to talk to 'em, is all.' Earl hit his smoke. 'Guess you better get you a shovel, Critter.'

'Ground's too hard for that. I got somethin' else in mind, least until this cold spell breaks. Meantime, I got to get over to that shopping center before it empties out. Clean those trunks out and get on back.'

Earl nodded and smoked.

Ray smiled. 'Well, Daddy, you said you wanted out.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Well, we are out now, aren't we? And we are going to be rich. Ain't nothin' we can't have.'

'I could use some company,' said Earl, thinking of that pretty little colored junkie, down in D.C.

'A woman, you mean?'

'You don't have someone to share it with,' said Earl, 'all this good fortune, it just don't mean a thing.'

14

Strange sat in his office, reading the transcripts of the Quinn hearings, Greco asleep at his feet. A red rubber ball with rubber spikes on it rested between Greco's paws.

Strange brought the boxer into work with him once or twice a week, when the dog begged. Earlier that morning, when Strange had headed for the front door with the car keys in his hand, Greco had looked up at him with those big browns of his and whined something fierce. Strange couldn't bear to think of the dog standing in the foyer all morning, pacing back and forth, barking at every car that slowed down or parked on the street.