I imagined a school bell ringing and the scuffle of children’s feet down the halls of the administration building. But that was all very far away.
“WHO’S THERE?” Jackson shouted from somewhere in the room beyond the door. I figured that he was to the right, behind a corner no doubt.
“It’s Easy, Jackson. Lemme in.”
“Easy?”
“Yes, Jackson. Easy.”
The door swung open quickly. Jackson was behind it. All he let me see was his frantically beckoning hand.
“Com’on, com’on, com’on, come on, come on!”
It was dark in the small room.
Jackson Blue, the smartest man I ever knew, was also one of the most untrustworthy. He was wearing black slacks and a long-sleeved black turtleneck shirt. They were both tight-fitting and so displayed his skinny frame.
It was hard to distinguish Jackson’s skin from his clothing. He held his shoulders high and his head down as if he were continually ducking from a blow.
There was a rounded couch covered by a shaggy rug and a dark wood rocking chair in that room. To the right was a door half open on a kitchen.
The only light in the room was from a streetlamp outside that shone brightly on the drawn shade.
“Can we turn on a light, Jackson?” I asked.
“No no, brother, no light.”
“You standin’ over there in the kitchen when you hollered at me?” I asked.
Jackson looked from the kitchen to the front door. I didn’t have to tell him how easy it would have been to shoot him through the wall.
“What you want, Easy? You here about who after me?”
“No. Who is it?”
“It’s not just one. Gangsters done put a bounty out on my head. Whole bunch’a soul brothers out to make a grand on my hide.”
When he swallowed it was like his whole body was the throat.
“What about Ortiz?” I asked. “He think he could take anybody.”
When Jackson sat down on the shag-covered couch a dusty odor rose in the room.
“What’s wrong, Jackson?” I asked. It struck me then that I was unarmed. I had gone unarmed in the streets of L.A. for over two years but this was the first time that it made me feel light.
“It’s all fucked up, man. All fucked up.”
“You mean the money on your head?”
I wasn’t being truthful with Jackson. I knew about his problems. That’s why I had sought him out. I’d heard from Mouse that Ortiz had been arrested; I figured that would have put Jackson in a vulnerable position.
“That, yeah. But it ain’t just him. It’s just bad luck.” Jackson shook his head and stared at the floor. “Bad luck.”
“What kinda bad luck?”
Jackson had his head down with his hands clasped at the back of his neck. He raised his head without releasing that grip, looked at me for a hard moment, and then sighed.
“Ortiz in jail,” he said.
“What for?”
“Two dudes got it in their heads to hijack our runners. We got hit twice. Lost twenty-six hunnert dollars near ’bout. But they got greedy and went in for number three. One’a my people recognized’em an’ Ortiz went down to a bar where they hung out, down on Slauson. They saw’im comin’ but they decided to fight instead’a runnin’.” Jackson shook his head at their foolishness. “But you know Ortiz got some heavy fists. Heavy.”
“So it was just a fight?” I asked.
“Yeah. Ortiz busted’em up pretty bad but he’s in jail because them white bookies got to the judge. Cops and the prosecutor actin’ like Ortiz is public enemy number one. They wanna have a big trial an’ meanwhile Ortiz up in jail with no bail.”
“And with him in jail your butt’s in a sling,” I declared.
“Yeah, they figgered it was a good time t’pick me off.”
Jackson rubbed his hand over his face and turned in my direction. “Can you help me?” he asked.
Like I said, I knew that Jackson was in trouble. But I had washed my hands of trouble. When I’d heard about Jackson’s dilemma I worried that my buddy might get killed but I didn’t do anything to help him. I didn’t do anything because he had chosen his road and I’d chosen mine. But now I saw where our paths might intersect again. I’d come looking for him knowing that he’d ask for my aid.
“Help you how?”
“I don’t know, Easy. I wish I did.”
“What were you plannin’ to do, Jackson? You just gonna sit here till somebody come in here with guns blastin’?”
