Ask the Parrot

“Cal, I don’t want to see that thing.”

“No, no, you’re not gonna see it.” Cal leaned forward to put the gun on the floor, then sat back and rested his right foot on it. “See? Just sitting there.”

“Is the safety on, anyway?”

“Sure it is. Whada you think?”

“When we talk to those guys,” Cory said, “please, Cal, don’t start waving that goddam gun around.”

“He’s the one talking tough, do you remember that? ‘You’d be dead now.’ Oh, yeah, would I? We’ll just have this little fella down here on the floor here, out of sight, out of mind, and if there has to be a little surprise, somewhere down the road, well, guess what, we got one.”

“Just leave it there,” Cory said.

“It’s there.”

Somehow the idea of his brother’s gun in his sister’s car made Cory nervous, as though he’d got himself involved in some kind of serious mistake here somewhere. Cal had bought that goddam thing years ago, in a pawnshop, on a visit to Buffalo, for no reason at all he could ever explain. He’d just seen it and he wanted it, that’s all. From time to time, the first year or so, he’d take it out in the woods and practice, shooting at trees or fence posts, but eventually it more or less just stayed in a drawer in his bedroom, barely even thought about. Cory hadn’t thought about it for so long it was like something brand-new, a Gila monster or something, when it suddenly appeared in Cal’s lap in the car.

All right, let it stay on the floor. If it made Cal feel more secure to have it down there, fine. When it came time, though, to get out of this car, Cory would make damn sure that stupid gun didn’t come out with them.

It was a few miles later they saw the bright red and white lights of their first roadblock of the night. Slowing down, Cory said, “Put the damn gun under the seat.”

“Right.”

Even Cal seemed a little chastened, as he bent down to hide the gun. Cory drove as slowly as he dared, to give Tom a chance to clear the roadblock, then eased to a stop beside the waiting trooper as he reached for his wallet.

The trooper had a long flashlight that he shone first on Cory and then across him on Cal, not quite shining the beam in their eyes. He was the most bored trooper they’d met yet, and he studied Cory’s license without saying a word. Cal had the glove compartment open, but the trooper didn’t even bother to ask for registration, just handed the license back and used his flashlight to wave them through.

Tom’s Ford hadn’t gained much ground, was still slowly moving along as though in no hurry to get anywhere in particular tonight. When Cory caught up, and slowed to maintain the same distance as before, Cal said, “What’s goin on, Cory? Is he just out for a drive?”

“I don’t know,” Cory admitted. “But I just figured out what’s out there, down this way.”

“Yeah, what?”

“That racetrack where he used to work.”

“What? Tom?”

“He worked there for years, and then they fired him for something.”

“What the hell would he be going down to that racetrack for?”

“I don’t know what they’re doing,” Cory said. “I mean, there they are, they came out tonight, everything like we thought they’d do, but now I don’t get it. They aren’t leading us to any money.”

“Maybe Tom’s helping the guy get away from here.”

“At forty-five miles an hour? Besides, he could’ve done that last night. Or today.”

“Get up closer,” Cal said. “Let’s see what they’re up to.”

“They’re driving,” Cory said.

“Come on, Cory, close it up.”

“You can’t see inside a car at night.”

“Close it up, goddammit.”

So Cory moved up much closer, not quite tailgating the Ford, and they drove like that awhile, trying to figure it out, getting nowhere. Then, way ahead, Cory saw the lights of the next roadblock and said, “I gotta ease back,” just as Cal yelled, “Goddammit!”

“What?” Cory’s foot was off the gas, the Jetta slowing, the Ford moving toward the distant roadblock, its brake lights not yet on.

“He’s alone in there!”

“What?”

“Pull over here, pull over here, goddammit!”

A closed gas station was on the right. Cory pulled in, drifting past the pumps as he said, “What do you mean, he’s alone in there?”

“Tom! I could see those lights down there through his windshield, and he’s goddammit alone in the goddam car! Stop!”

Cory stopped. “Then where is he? Maybe he’s lying down in back.”