"When did I ever have a shank on me?"
"I'm telling you what is a road dog, tha's all. If I go to stick some guy bothering me, I know you right there to back my move."
"When did you ever stick anybody? You pay guys to take care of your business."
"I'm talking about the principle of it, of being road dogs. We road dogs as long as we together, here or outside."
Like being on call, Foley thought. Because Cundo had eased him out of doing thirty years with a check to Megan for thirty grand. What still bothered Foley as much as not having any money: why was Cundo giving him a free ride? Because Foley was the only gringo Cundo could talk to? Believe that, he could believe the little bugger's heart bleeds. He put money on you for the future. Watch over Dawn for now. It's when he's released he'll get down to the gritty. "Do a job for me, man, an easy one." He'll say, "Jus' this one, okay?" Then another one. Wait and see.
The only thing to do, get out from under him, out of this house that was a shrine to Dawn. Dawn everywhere.
Dawn in bed with the dark hair, his favorite.
He was thinking he should get in touch with Karen. Call the Miami's marshals' office, let her know he missed her. If she wanted him to do anything for her-like come back to Florida, rip her clothes off and throw her on a bed-he'd be happy to. When she came on the phone he'd say, "Is this my little zoo-zoo by any chance?" And she'd say-
The phone rang.
He was thinking, staring at the painting of Dawn in the giant bed, that lust could be part of love, or it just meant you were horny.
The phone rang again. Foley knew who it was without knowing why. He did, he picked up the phone and said, "Dawn? I was about to call you."
He heard her say, "Don't tell me you're psychic," sounding pleased in a quiet way. She said, "You're right, Jack, it's time we got together."
EIGHT
"i'll come over," dawn said. "i haven't been ACROSS the bridge in weeks." She said, "Are all the pictures of me still up? Cundo made me swear I wouldn't touch them. You know I lived there almost a month but had to move. Everywhere I looked I saw myself and I never changed, the blonde with exotic eyes, so I moved to the pink house. It's terra-cotta, but Cundo says it's pink and he's too macho to live in a pink house." She said, "We could meet now if you want. It isn't too early, is it? I love to sip Jack Daniel's in the morning."
Foley said, "You're sure that's what I have?"
"And Mexican beer, but I like the sour mash."
"You must be psychic," Foley said, "or you've been going through my trash."
"Or I saw you shopping at Ralphs," Dawn said, "and I thought, Why that must be Jack Foley trying not to look furtive, a former inmate in the world again. I got that from your body language, Jack. What I learned about you took place your first night here, getting smashed on Puerto Rican rum till you went to sleep. I thought, Well, that's done. He's celebrated his release, spent a day hung over and now he'll call. I know you've been dying for us to meet, but had to settle in first. You're still uneasy being out in public, going to stores." She said, "Let's see if I can get you feeling like yourself again."
Foley said, "I always feel like myself."
"You think you do. I'll be over," Dawn said, "let's see, about twelve-thirty."
"You need an hour to comb your hair?"
"I want to bathe and look nice for you. This is a big day for us, Jack."
He watched her cross the footbridge over the canal, the dark-haired Dawn in a white sundress and pink heels, coming to visit in the early afternoon. He liked the way her hair came close to her eyes in a free fall to bare shoulders, this slim girl who could be a fashion model but told fortunes instead.
She took his hand and held on to it, both smiling, very pleased to meet each other. The sky gray but so what. Things were looking up for Foley, fresh out of stir. He couldn't stop grinning at this confident girl who lived by herself and posed in the nude. He said, "Why don't we go inside."
They went through to the kitchen, Dawn saying, "I want to see what you have in the fridge."
Foley got out the ice and made drinks, Jack Daniel's and a splash of water, while Dawn poked around in the refrigerator, used a spoon to taste his cold butter beans and onions, seemed to like it, found a wedge of Brie and spread some on a stalk of celery. She said, "I know where we should talk. Bring the bottle and a bowl of ice." Dawn running the show. Foley went along.
Up to the third floor, to the low table and red leather chairs in the alcove off the master bedroom, across from the painting of her by the bed. She said, "There's another one of me dressed, reading a book. Jimmy has it in his office."
"I like the one of you bare ass," Foley said. "I did happen to mention the painting to Cundo. He said, 'Wha' painting?'»
"You tell him I'm naked?"
"I only said I liked it."
"I haven't told him," Dawn said. "I wouldn't be his little saint if I let you see me naked, even in a painting." "He wanted to know who did it."
"Little Jimmy," Dawn said. "Cundo has him watching over me. He calls Jimmy the Monk, because for twenty-seven years Cundo's believed Little Jimmy's gay. But the little fella himself has never been that sure. But which does he like better, pussy, or being one? Jimmy said he's beginning to lean toward pussy."
This girl who'd taken a bath and wanted to look nice for him talking about pussy in an offhand way that took Foley back to the yard. He said, "Cundo never called the Monk Little Jimmy."
"It's a name I gave him. He likes it."
"I told Cundo I thought you did the paintings."
It seemed to please her. "That's not a bad idea."
"He didn't go for it. He said, 'She don't fucking paint.' " Foley giving her his Cundo Rey. " 'She only tell you your fortune.'»
"That's not bad either. Give me your hand," Dawn said. "Here, rest your arm on the table." She moved the tips of fingers over his fingers and his palm. She said, "You don't show it, but not having money is driving you nuts." She said, "You know what you should've been doing all this time? I mean instead of robbing banks?"
Throws it out-like telling Foley she knew all about him.
"You were a boy you wanted to go to sea." "I thought of joining the navy."
"Now you wouldn't mind owning a deep-sea fishing boat. Operate out of Biloxi?"
"Costa Rica," Foley said. "How long have you been reading palms?"
"When you're a Sagittarian," Dawn said, "born with a Grand Trine in the center of your natal chart, you know you have a gift. You can call me Reverend Dawn, if you'd like. I'm an ordained minister of the Spiritualist Assembly of Waco, Texas, though I started out doing nails." She sipped her drink, still looking at him. "I went to beautician school, ran around acting crazy, did drugs, almost bit my nails off I was so fucked up. That was my Sagittarius rising with Mars on aspect. I got it together and now I'm a licensed psychic, clairvoyant, astrologer-what else-spirit medium. I interpret dreams and do past-life regressions. I can cite events in your personal life and tell you what they mean… your involvement with a woman, a federal officer, who was hot on your trail"-Dawn's eyes holding his-"you took to bed… Wait, and the next day she shot you?"
Foley said, "Cundo told you about that, uh?"
Dawn smiled now. "Yes, he did. What's her name, Karen Sisco? She sounds like fun."
His zoo-zoo, in his mind for only a moment, bumped out by Dawn Navarro playing with him, letting him know that right now she was more fun than Karen.
Foley said, "You ever use hypnosis?"
"Now and then. Would you like to be hypnotized?"