“I could drive you,” I said. Not too eagerly, I hoped. “My instructions are to see the doctor personally. No go- betweens.”
She nodded sagely. “You gotta bring him back yourself. That’s your orders.”
“Right.”
“And orders is orders.”
“Yes they are.”
She put her hand on mine; it was cold, clammy—hers, I mean. Hell, mine too.
She said, “Well, why don’t you drive me there, then. But I gotta warn you. Somethin’ big’s in the wind.”
“Oh?”
“Felt I should warn you. You might get caught up in it.”
“In what?”
“Somethin’ big.”
“Well. Would that be bad?”
She smiled enigmatically. Still a nice smile, despite the otherwise physically grotesque person it belonged to. “Not if you like money.”
“I like money.”
“Well, wherever my boys go, there’s money to be had. I got good boys who work hard, Jimmy. You looking to make an extra dollar?”
“Sure.”
She winked at me. “You’ll do no better than to stick with my boys.”
“You seem proud of them.”
“Couldn’t be prouder. So—do I have me a chauffeur?” She said it like ‘show fer.’
“It’d be my honor. I even have a car…”
“What kind?”
That stopped me.
“Chevy coupe,” I said.
She shook her head. “Won’t do, won’t do.” She got up and clomped over to a chest of drawers against one wall. She pulled open a drawer and it was brimming with cash. She counted out a stack and trundled over and handed it to me.
“There’s six hundred,” she said. “See if you can’t get a nice used twelve-cylinder Auburn. With a radio. I’m partial to twelve-cylinder Auburns with radios.”
I put the fat wad of cash in my suitcoat pocket as she went back and closed the drawer.
I said, “When would you like to leave?”
“Tomorrow afternoon soon enough? Like to pack my bags, and take in a movie s’evenin’—I just love the movies, and when I’m out on the road with my boys I sometimes go
I said I knew, and told her I’d pick her up the next day at one.
She walked me to the door, her arm linked in mine; gave me a pat on the cheek. Her fingers were cold and soft.
“You seem like a nice boy,” she said. “You gone always to be good to your ol’ Ma, now, ain’t you?”
I said I’d do my best.
Then I went out and bought a used twelve-cylinder Auburn. With a radio.
28
The next afternoon I was tooling up Highway 19 through McHenry County—its green rolling hills interspersed with rich farmland, lakes and the occasional gravel pit—behind the wheel of the nicest automobile I ever sat in. Though only a ’32, the Auburn had quite a few miles on her, which had helped me land the sporty two-seater (we were keeping the top up today) at a reasonable price. It was just the kind of automobile every man dreams of owning, to impress the girl riding next to him. Unfortunately the “girl” next to me had more miles on her than the Auburn.
She was wearing a hat that fit snugly on her skull, like something an aviator might wear, only floral. Her baggy dress was an off-white with light purple flowers that clashed with the hat and the snow-white seat cushions. Of course, she was sitting on a cushion of her own, an air cushion that boosted her up so she could peer out the windows; even with the air cushion, she was so squat she barely rose above the dash. Right now she was leaning forward, turning the tuning dial of the Motorola radio built under the dash, the needle on its little round face spinning like a hand on an out-of-control clock, as she desperately searched for hillbilly music.
“The music this radio gets is just plain lousy,” she said, turning off Bing Crosby singing “Where the Blue of the Night Meets the Gold of the Day.” There was an accusatory note in Kate Barker’s voice, as if had I been more careful in picking out this particular vehicle, I might have been able to get one that played “That Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine” continuously.
But we’d been through all that when I picked her up, around 1:00 P.M., at the Pine Grove apartment. She’d taken a look at the Auburn coupe I’d arrived in and made a face like a displeased five-year-old.
“You bought a two-seater!” she said, standing on the sidewalk, a bag in either hand, romance and movie magazines stuffed under one arm, oversize purse under the other. “I wanted a touring sedan!”
