Blossom

Virgil gave the kid a beer. Took one himself.

'This guy we're looking for…he's a monster, right? Like the Prof told us that one time. Remember, brother, when we were all locked down after that rumble on the yard?'

He turned to Lloyd. 'We didn't have no TV in the hole. No radios, no books, nothing. So every night, the Prophet, he'd tell us stories. One night it'd be about women. He'd tell you about watching a stripper and I swear to God you could see the girl working, right on your cell wall. Or he'd tell us about some hustle he pulled off. Or about old-time guys, real cons, back when a good thief was something to be proud of. One night, he told us about the legend. That was the first time I knew what a monster was.'

I closed my eyes, remembering, hearing the Prof's voice.

Myths and monsters.

52

VIRGIL'S VOICE interrupted the memories, like he was plugged into my thoughts. 'Yeah, what a man he was. Sure helped me become one.'

The kid's voice was tight with wonder. 'How do you get that?'

'What you mean, Lloyd?'

'I mean…what makes a man? A real man.' Questions only a kid can ask from his heart. Like knowing is all there is to it. I was thinking about how to tell the kid about Michelle, when Virgil met it straight on. 'Same thing that makes a real woman, son. After the storm, all you got is the foundation.'

53

SOME OF THE bounce was missing from Cyndi as she came up to take my order.

'You have a pay phone somewhere around?' I asked her.

'Maybe you need somebody to show you a phone, huh?'

I took a drag of my cigarette, waiting.

She put her palms on the table, leaned forward. 'You never called me.'

'No. I'm going to be pulling out soon. Finish my work. You're a fine woman, Cyndi. Not the kind a man plays with. I'm not your ticket out of here. No point throwing beautiful flower seeds on concrete.'

'I never asked you for promises.'

'You don't have to ask. I respect you too much not to be asking myself.'

She slid into the seat across from me. 'That's a sweet goodbye.'

'It's not goodbye, girl. It's just…a girlfriend's not what I need right now. And I'm sure not what you need anyway. There's something out there for you a lot better than whatever I am, okay?'

'You think I'll get out?'

'I know you will.'

'That's what Blossom says. You know what that old girl told me the other day? She said I was smart enough, I should go to college.'

'You think that's nuts?'

'I did at first. But, I don't know. I had a boyfriend once. A guy I met at the club. He was an accountant. Told me I had a real head for numbers. And he wasn't playing…I know when a man's playing.'

'Then you know I'm not, right?'

Her smile flashed. 'Right.'

'Friends?'

She slid out of the booth, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, wiggled off to give Leon the order.

Blossom walked by. Nodded gravely at me. Like I'd done the right thing. I watched the set of her shoulders, the line of her jaw. Knowing I'd seen it before, somewhere.

54

WE BROUGHT Lloyd in that Monday. Bostick met us at the police station. Introduced me as a private investigator from his office. Mitchell Sloane is a versatile man.

They charged Lloyd with bail jumping. Remanded him, set a hearing down for Wednesday.

Sherwood was there. Big man, round face, mostly skull on top. Ham hands, sausage fingers. Khaki suit, clip- on tie, walking shoes. Dumb the way a bear is slow— he wouldn't turn up the flame unless he had something to burn.

Sherwood gravely thanked Virgil for finding Lloyd. Said he did the right thing, his voice neutral, not empty. Pick what you want.

Virgil shook his hand, nodded. Watchful.

We stepped onto the sidewalk. I pulled Bostick aside. 'You get what I wanted?' I asked him.

'Hightower. Jefferson James Hightower. Seventeen years old. Honcho'ed a crack posse in Gary. Allegedly shot a chulo from one of the Chicago Latin gangs when they tried to move on his territory. Doing real well for himself, moving up in the organization. Registry shows him owning a Nissan Maxima and a Kawasaki Ninja cycle. Only family is his mother. She lives over in the Delaney Street Projects. Visits him about three times a week.'

'Thanks.'

'See you in court.'

55

VIRGIL DROVE THE Lincoln through the streets parallel to Broadway. He crossed the avenue, approaching from the Garyside. I gave him a look. 'Downwind,' is all he said.

Big sign dominated the wide street: MONEY TO LOAN ? NEED JACK? SEE JACK! The pawnshop was half a city block. I wondered if they sold guns, make it a one-stop shop.

The neighborhood was full of hand-painted signs for locksmiths, bottle clubs, custom car washing— no machines. Black men on the corners, watching like they watch in every city.

The Projects were a series of brick attached one-story homes. We found the number two blocks in from Harrison Street— the Maxima was parked out front.

I left Virgil in the car. Knocked on the door. A solidly built black woman answered.

'Yes, sir?' Eyes wary.

'Mrs. Hightower, my name is Sloane. I'm a private investigator. I work for Mr. Bart Bostick, the criminal defense lawyer…'

She nodded, waiting.

'I'm investigating a case. You know those sniper killings? Those teenagers who got killed over by the dunes, in that lovers' lane?'

'I don't know nothin' about…'

'Oh, I know you don't, ma'am. But I was hoping your son…James…hoping he might be of some help.'

'How?'

'Well, we heard a rumor that the boy who did it might be locked up in the same jail as James. And a boy like that, you know he can't be right in the head. So I thought, James, he might have heard something…'

'He never said nothin' to me.'

'Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't, ma'am. I'll be going down to the jail to talk with him and I just wanted to show the proper respect…speak to his mother first. See, you need to sign this Consent Form for me to get in'— taking what Bostick had given me out of my attache case— 'your son being a minor and all. It just says I'm working on his case. And I wanted to leave this with you'— holding up a thick white envelope where she could see it— 'as a token of our respect.'

She felt the outside of the envelope. Took the pen I gave her and signed the form.