with a hard delighted grin and both legs in the air, working, and the whole shooting match wobbling and rolling as I tried to guard my face and gut, until finally I rolled on top of her, and all the play went out of her and she went to work. She locked her knees against my ribs and began to move.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” I said between my teeth.

Between her teeth she said, “You think you knowing makes any difference?”

22

Dead

When I woke up next, she was gone. I didn’t think more than a couple hours had passed. It was almost eight by the alarm clock on her night table. I found my watch and checked it. Almost eight. Well, now we’d established that it was almost eight. We were making progress. I put on my watch, sat on the side of her bed, and tried to think what I could do to earn my pay. There wasn’t a damn thing I could think of. I was tired of shaking trees with no fruit on them. I didn’t have a lever and I wasn’t getting any closer to one. What I had was Rebecca, and whatever she knew and hadn’t quit dancing around long enough to tell me yet, and she’d gone missing. Meanwhile, if I had to leave town tomorrow, or even move across it, I didn’t have much of a stake. I got out my wallet and counted, thinking about that dinner at Annie Jay’s. It was stupid, spending that kind of money. I’m an eater. It’s as bad as drinking sometimes. I put on my clothes and went down the sticky stairs. I didn’t run into Shade. I found where I’d left my car and headed over to the hiring hall on Welliver, even if it was eight-twenty already.

It was past nine when I got there. “Jesus,” Bergdahl said, from behind his old desk. “Look what’s here at lunchtime and wants work.”

“Hello, Bergdahl.”

“Hello, Ray. What are you doing here? It’s practically noon. I could’ve used you at seven.”

“I overslept.”

“Company?” he said, leering.

“I don’t know how I got this reputation.”

“Company, huh. Well, you got to tend to business if you want the business.”

“I know it.”

“We got a lot of early worms here.”

“I know it. I just thought I’d come by anyhow.”

“Ah, it’s slow. I didn’t have much this morning either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping to pick up something.”

“Well, come back Wednesday or so. I been hearing some things. I think by mid-week, Thursday the latest I can fix you up.”

“Sooner would be better. I don’t mind what it is. I’ll wheel concrete, if that’s what you’ve got.”

“Aw, you that stony?”

“I was hoping I could make a few dollars today.”

“Aw, hell. I wish I had something.”

“Well, don’t fret about it,” I said.

He got very interested in his desk blotter then. “I guess you got stuck on those Olindas roofs for Nestor,” he said.

“Yep.”

“Everybody did. That little spic stuck everyone. I’m sorry, Ray. I’m sorrier than hell. I should’ve known better.”

“We all know what he’s like, Bergdahl. I took the work. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just don’t like seeing my guys stuck. That’s the last time that rotten little spic hires out of this hall, and I told him so.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ve got nothing against a man just cause he’s a Mex, you know that. But I have no time for that rotten little spic. Well, I guess I’m not the only one’s tired of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t hear? You’ll like this story. Three big smokes broke into his office the other day and choked him with a chain until he opened his safe. They got away with two grand. He’s been going around showing everybody the marks on his neck.”

“Is that a fact.”

“Like it?”

“And that little beauty telling us all he was broke.”

“I thought you’d like that story.”

“The only way I could like it better is if I did it myself and had the two grand.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” he said, with a laugh that didn’t quite jell.

“Now what sort of talk is that?” I said.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything. But I’ve seen you get hot, Ray. I just wouldn’t put it past you.”

“My buddy.”

“In fact,” he said, sort of unwillingly, “first time heard, I thought of you.”

“That’s right, Bergdahl,” I said. “It was really me. I’m three big shades, and I’ve got two grand in my pocket, and that’s why I’m here begging for unskilled work.”

“All right,” he said. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just giving you the needle.”

But he was having trouble meeting my eyes again.

I left soon after.

At home I had a shower and treated myself to a shave and a grilled cheese sandwich. Then I thought what the hell and called Mattie.

“How’s Lenny,” he said.

“In the pink,” I said. “Got anything for me?”

“James Lee Marron, born June 10, 1926. Six two, one ninety-five, blonde and brown. Former star running back of the Porter Eagles.”

“That’s Halliday?”

“That’s Halliday. Former president of the Porter Thespians Club. Scrapes with girls. Scrapes with cops, just kid stuff. Always talked his way out, except for the one time. Left Michigan ahead of a Mann rap in ’46. Family hasn’t heard from him since ’48. Any good to you?”

“Not that I know of, Mattie. But thanks. I appreciate the trouble.”

“You don’t sound so hot. You don’t sound like the gangster bit agrees with you.”

“I’m all right.”

“Why don’t you quit ’em, Ray? Why don’t you quit ’em both before they suck you down and get you where you can’t? Come by and talk. There’s other things for a guy like you to do than this.”

“You’ve always been a friend, Mattie.”

“All right, I’ll mind my business. Well, that’s Halliday.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You want his family?”

“Sure,” I said. “Yeah, sure. Give me the family.”

He gave me the family.

After I hung up the phone, I sat there awhile at the desk, not doing anything at all. Then I thought I’d try a little finger-drumming. Then I drummed my forefingers lightly on the space bar of my typewriter, like playing the bongos. Then I decided to really make a party of it and rolled some paper in.

On the first sheet I typed out Leave Town, and then underneath, W/ what $? I started typing out a list of what I could pawn or sell. The car. The new clothes. My watch. My books. Not my books. My typewriter. What else? The typewriter wouldn’t bring much. Too old. Neither would the suit. Too big. I x’d them both out. It was a cheap watch, which left the car, and without the car, how was I going to travel? Catch a freight again? Hitchhike? Just go back on the bum, like that, after nine years? I pulled out the page and crumpled it up.

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