Six Bad Things

the other cop, the one without a face, right?

I’m sitting on the side of the bed now, drinking more water. My head feels like it’s been cut off and stuck on a pike. I keep having little moments where I suddenly get dizzy and my vision blurs. It’s a safe bet that I have a mid- level concussion. Which would explain why I don’t remember much after I got in the Monte Carlo. A chase. A crash. A cop. The back of Rolf’s bus. This room.

– The Federale covers me while I walk over to that table I was hiding behind. I point at the floor and go all, Hey, there’s my keys, and I duck down like I’m grabbing my keys just as the doc walks around the bar and sees the dead cop.

Dead cop. A deputy was calling for help on his radio, and then I heard gunshots, and then Rolf and Sid were pulling me out of my car. Dead cop.

– So now the doc is telling the Federale that he can’t do anything for his friend and the Federale is all, Que? Que? Que? So that’s it, the jig’s up. I pop up to do one of those gangsta moves with the dead cop’s piece in one hand and my revolver in the other and, dude, there’s the doc and the Federale standing over the dead guy, I’m totally forgotten. I pull the trigger on that cheap cop gun and it goes off and jams right away. So now, dude, the live cop is drawing a bead on me and I got just three round in my piece and the one shot I got off hit the doc in the gut and he’s lying on his side on the floor scooting around in a circle like one of the Three Stooges with a hot rivet in his pants. No shit.

My head spins some more and I lie back with my knees bent over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor.

– You OK, dude?

I keep my eyes closed and wave my hand.

– You sure?

I breathe deeply a few times.

– Yeah.

– OK. So, the Federale is bringing up his piece and I have this moment where I blank. I, seriously, I panic. It’s like surfing. I’m all over a wave and then it just surges and becomes like something else, like a beast, and I realize I’m totally in over my head and I’m just gonna get wiped out if I don’t hold my shit, but it’s too late, just taking the time to think makes it too late and next thing I know I’m plowed because what’s happened is, I’ve totally panicked. Choked in the clutch. And that’s what I did. The Federale is taking aim and I got my gun up and ready, and I freeze ’cause I don’t know if I should blast my three bullets and, if I miss, hope he misses so I’ll have time to duck and un- jam the cop piece, or duck without shooting before he has me in his sights, and by then it’s too late to do anything, dude, ’cause he’s pulling the trigger and I’m gonna get plowed. And then the doc freaking out on the floor kicks him in the back of the leg and he falls down and I shoot him.

I open my eyes. Nope, the world is still blurry and out of focus.

– Dude, it was one of those freaky moments where everything just works out for you. He’s still alive, so I have to put another one in him before I come out from cover, but then that’s it. All over.

All over.

– What about the doctor?

– Oh, dude, bummer. That was fucked up, but the way it worked out for me, I kind of figure it was meant to happen. I mean, I wanted to thank the guy and all, but there he is, gutshot. I got him flipped over and shot him in the back of the head. Total drag. So, then I go looking for the Bronco keys and find the wanted poster, and you know what’s really weird, dude?

– No.

– Like a year ago, I saw the Henry Thompson America’s Most Wanted.

There it is again.

– And I totally thought he looked like you, but it just seems too far-fetched, right? So that was that. But the second I looked at the poster? Bang! Just like that I got it. Then I motored out to the highway and found Leo, and you were gone. That sealed the deal.

– How is Leo?

– OK, last I saw. I took him back to Pedro’s and he was awake and could talk a little. Said the Federales caught him in the jungle and beat it out of him about where I was taking you. He felt real bad about that. Anyway, Pedro called Doc Sanchez and I took off. Looked like a good time to return to the States for a vacation. Also, I wanted to look you up.

– Why?

Not that I need to ask.

– Dude, way I figure it, I’m owed some money. Leo may be one of those cats who will do anything for a friend. But me? I like to get paid. And there is no fucking way that if I’d known who you were I would have helped out for the standard fee. I mean, if I’d known I was gonna have to kill three guys, I probably would have said, like, double. But now? Shit. Way I figure, I know you have money ’cause you gave the Federales 70 Gs and they thought you should have more.

Something occurs to me.

– What happened to the seventy?

– Shit, dude, I got it.

He pulls up his shirt and I see my money belt wrapped around his stomach. Bloodstained just like the wanted poster. He drops the shirt.

– But, dude, that’s besides the point. I mean, that’s like salvage and has nothing to do with you owing me for services rendered.

I open my eyes. The world has stopped spinning and has come back into focus. Money.

– How much?

– Well, I’m willing to listen to an offer, dude.

– Hundred thousand?

– Shit, dude, if you can rattle off 100 Gs just like that, you can probably do two.

– Yeah, I probably can.

– Dude! How much do you have?

– A lot.

– OK, OK, that’s cool, I’m not greedy. Two! Two is cool. But hey, that only stands as long as things don’t get any harder, OK?

– Yeah.

I sit back up and my stomach lurches. More concussion symptoms.

– Rolf?

– Dude?

– Did you kill a deputy after I crashed?

– Yeah. Didn’t know what else to do there.

I stand up and stumble. Rolf catches me.

– Easy.

I clamp my mouth shut and point at the bathroom and he helps me to the toilet. He stands in the open door as I spill my guts. The water I drank comes up, and then it’s dry heaves. I finish and slump on the floor. Dry heaves suck. Dry? Didn’t I just eat with Mom and Dad?

– How long have I been out?

– Almost twenty-four hours, dude.

Shit, oh shit.

– Phone! Phone! Did I have a cell phone?

– Yeah.

– I need it right now.

MOM AND Dad are in police custody, and Dylan wants to explain to me why he’s not happy about it.

– Is this how you do business, Hank? Because if it is, if this is what I have to look forward to, I may just have to back out of this deal right now.

I’m sitting on the bathroom floor talking on the cell phone Dylan gave me. Sid has come back from the IHOP and is sitting out in the room, eating a stack of banana pancakes. Rolf is standing next to the open door so he can