“What about Shannon?”
“I’ll talk to her. You just get the fuck out. Things are going down. Now you’re only a nuisance. We’ll bring you back up for the indictments.”
Horrified. “You want me to testify?”
“You have a choice? It’ll be messy, bro, but I’ll sort it out.”
“And my parents?”
“Go see them tonight, tell them you’re going for a fresh start. They’ll be glad you’re straightening out.”
Nick, his old self returning. “That’s it? I just split and what... wait?”
“You got it. You’re out of it.”
“I’ll be moving on then. Any words of wisdom to speed me on my way?”
“Sure. You shoulda had the eggs. They’re great.”
And there was Nicky walking out of my life. Least, that’s what he thought.
Waited for the splash, for the car to pull away. Typical fucking Nicky, effective but sloppy. The rage again. Griffin’s pants had snagged on one of the pilings. The waterline was high and it wasn’t much of a strain getting my hands on him. Pulling his dead, waterlogged carcass the fuck out of the river was another issue. Thought both my shoulders would tear apart. There goes my pitching career!
Got his body onto the pier, the skin no colder now than when he was drawing breath, his heart probably warmer. I weighted the bastard down good and trussed his ass up like a chained mummy. He’d come up eventually. They almost always do, but he’d be hell to identify. Liked thinking about him as fish food.
“Give my regards to Rudi.”
Pushed him back in the Hudson for the long dive goodnight.
“I felt as though I’d lost something, lost it forever and I didn’t even know what it was, had no name for it. Those are the worst losses we ever sustain.”
2000
Milwaukee
Downer Avenue
December, late.
Milwaukee? Yeah, don’t ask. Okay, ask. I don’t give a fuck. Because it wasn’t Philly, Boston or Brooklyn. A lot of places aren’t like those places, but not unlike them in the same way as Milwaukee. Just something about the Midwest, tough to put a finger on. Everyone pictures it in winter, as it is now: sunless, snowy, gray, frozen. There’s another Midwest that the rest of the country never dreams of in their philosophies. Like that? Paid attention in English, especially during Shakespeare and Frost.
Waited to make sure Nicky made it to Kentucky all right, had a long talk with Shannon and her boy. Cute kid, made me play catch with him. Assured Shannon that Nicky hadn’t done her ex. Neglected to mention that Nicky had done the man that had done her ex. Didn’t tell her she’d be under surveillance until Boyle was in Attica. Easy to see what Nicky saw in her. Who knows what the fuck she saw in him? Who knows what a woman sees in any man?
That done, got in my car and drove west. This is fucked, I know, but I was following the Mets. Wanted to see a game in Wrigley Field my whole life. It’s an ancient park, reminiscent in its quirkiness if not in style to Fenway. Scalped a sweet seat. Rained out. Figures. Thought Chicago was a pretty place, but it was too much like New York. Cleaner maybe, smaller with bad pizza. Still, had a subway and too many tall buildings for me to stay. Next stop for the Mets? Milwaukee. Me too.
Like Shea, County Stadium was an old piece of shit. But unlike Shea, the stadium food was great and there was a cool, new, retractable roofed stadium being built in the parking lot to take its place. It was supposed to be open already, but while they were building it a crane or something collapsed and like killed a few guys. My bad luck continued. Not so bad, I guess, as those poor bastards got crushed by the crane. Seen their last opening day. Didn’t have to scalp tickets at County. Some guy gave me a spare. Liked that. Liked that a lot. Liked it that the Mets won.
Decided to stay in Milwaukee for a week. Months later, still here. Found a place on Downer Avenue. Don’t you love that fucking name, Downer? Sums it up. Lived just up the block from a movie theater and a bookstore and not too far away from the university. Gotten back into my reading. Go to the movies all the time. Summer was great, not crazy humid like back home. Lake Michigan is cool. Kind of like the Atlantic with Kalamazoo on the opposite shore instead of Galway. There’s these weird silver fish, smelt or some such shit, that wash up on the lakeshore by the thousands. Like a Passover fucking plague. Passes for normal here.
Fall was short, like two weeks. Then the sun disappeared, replaced by snow and grayness. You think it gets cold back East? Fuck that! This is cold, brothers and sisters. Few more months of this and Brooklyn in February would feel like South Beach. You understand drinking in a place like this. Jack Daniel’s and me became even better friends... best friends. Hadn’t been about friendship before. Always a nod to Kathleen. Milwaukee changed that. Nights were darker here somehow, darker even than Boston. Leeza and Kathleen were ever present, Rudi too, the cocksucker. Just didn’t have the energy to leave. Figured I’d live through the winter. Lived through worse, much worse.
Then one day, about a week ago, God lifted the fucking veil. Grayness burned away by the sun like a match through dark acetate. Still cold as an icehouse, but to feel the sun on my face was redemption, if only temporary. Bypassed the place down the block and walked over to this little crime bookstore near the lake. Christ, I’d been in bigger bathrooms. Thing was, the owner, this tall gangly guy with a Led Zep tee shirt, had a New York accent. Didn’t mention it. Afraid it would break the spell. Handed me my bag. Smiled at him large. Probably thought I was queer. So what? The sun was out.
Two doors down, an Irish pub run by Germans. Sums up Milwaukee, that. Was about to order a Jack.
“What can I get for you?” barman asked.
“Anything but Jack Daniel’s.”
Didn’t flinch. Put a can of Point beer on the bar with a glass. Never had something so mediocre tasted so fucking good. Whispered “Goodbye” to Kathleen. Threw a twenty down on the bar. Left. Barman didn’t chase after me. Understood about not wanting to break a spell. Stayed outside until the sun became irrelevant. There’s no delaying darkness. Least, that’s what I thought.
Put my key in the lock, night falling over my shoulder.
“We’re in love, remember?”
Fuck! I was losing it. The weather was getting to me. My redemption was at end. The hauntings were back. Fumbled with the lock. If Nicky could only see me now.
“I’m gonna freeze my tits off if you don’t open that lock!”
Leeza.
Forced myself to turn in spite of the spell.
Eyes had aged, if nothing else. Brightness dimmed. What had they seen? Mouth still dangerous, magical. Coat, hood, and gloves hid the rest of her. I stood frozen, not from the cold. Single tear leaked out of her left eye. Wiped it away. More intense than any kiss.
Twelve years old again. Her too, this time. No pretense in her smile. She was acting, she was pretty fucking good. Didn’t care. We circled my apartment like two tentative boxers feeling each other out.
How’d you find me?
Guessed.
No, really.
Have my ways.
Get you something to drink?
Yes... No. What do you have?
What do you want?
Lawrence Block, huh? When did you start reading this stuff?
Boston.