The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

vacuuming the rugs. Concentrating on the minutiae kept her mind off the formless threat she felt hanging over Vicky and herself.

Jack wouldn't let her out of the apartment so he took the bedclothes down to the laundry area and washed them. He was a hard worker and not afraid to get his hands dirty. They made a good team. She found she enjoyed being with him, something up until a few days ago she thought she'd never enjoy again.

The certain knowledge that a gun was hidden somewhere on his body and that he was the sort of man quite willing and able to use it effectively did not cause the revulsion it would have a few days ago. She couldn't say she approved of the idea, but she found herself taking reluctant comfort from it.

The sun was leaning into the west over the Manhattan skyline before she declared the apartment habitable. Jack went out and found a Chinese restaurant and brought back egg tolls, hot-and-sour soup, spareribs, shrimp fried rice, and mooshu pork. In a separate bag he had an Entenmann's almond ring coffeecake. That didn't strike Gia as a fitting dessert for a Chinese meal, but she didn't say anything.

She watched as he tried to teach Vicky how to use the chopsticks he’d picked up at the restaurant. The rift between those two had apparently healed without a scar. They were buddies again, the trauma of the morning forgotten—at least by Vicky.

“I have to go out,' he told her as they cleared the dishes.

“I figured that,' Gia said, hiding her unease. 'How long will you be out?'

She knew they were lost in this apartment complex among other apartment complexes—the proverbial needle in the haystack—but she didn't want to be alone tonight. Not after what she’d learned this morning about the chocolates and the orange.

'Don't know. That's why I asked Abe to come and stay with you until I get back. Hope you don't mind.'

'No. I don't mind at all.' From what Gia remembered of Abe, he seemed an unlikely protector, but any port in a storm. 'Anyway, how could I object? He has more of a right to be here than we do.'

'I wouldn't be too sure of that.'

'Oh?'

'Abe and his daughter are barely on speaking terms.' Jack turned and faced her, leaning his back against the sink. He glanced over her shoulder to where Vicky sat alone at the table munching on a fortune cookie, then spoke in a low voice, his eyes fixed on her. 'You see, Abe's a criminal. Like me.'

'Jack—' She didn't want to get into this now.

'Not exactly like me. Not a thug.' His emphasis on the word she’d used on him was a barb in her heart. 'He just sells illegal weapons. He also sells legal weapons, but he sells them illegally.'

Portly, voluble Abe Grossman—a gunrunner? It wasn't possible! But the look in Jack's eyes said it was.

'Was it necessary to tell me that?' What was he trying to do?

'I just want you to know the truth. I also want you to know that Abe is the most peace-loving man I've ever met. '

'Then why does he sell guns?

'Maybe he'll explain it to you someday. I found his reasons pretty convincing—more convincing than his daughter did.'

'She doesn't approve, I take it.'

'Barely speaks to him.'

'Good for her.'

'Didn't stop her from letting him pay the tuition for her bachelor and graduate degrees, though.'

A knock on the door and a voice in the hall: 'It's me—Abe. Open up already.'

Jack let him in. He looked the same as the last time Gia had seen him: An overweight man dressed in a short- sleeved white shirt, black tie, and black pants. The only difference was the nature of the food stains up and down his front.

'Hello,' he said, shaking Gia's hand. She liked a man to shake her hand. 'Nice to see you again.'

He also shook Vicky's hand, which elicited a big smile from her.

'Just in time for dessert, Abe,' Jack said. He brought out the Entenmann's cake.

Abe's eyes widened.' Almond coffee ring! You shouldn't have!' He made a show of searching the tabletop. 'And the rest of you having what?'

Gia laughed politely, not knowing how seriously to take the remark, then watched with wonder as Abe consumed three-quarters of the cake, all the while talking eloquently and persuasively of the imminent collapse of western civilization.

Although he’d failed to persuade Vicky to call him 'Uncle Abe' by the time dessert was over, he had Gia half convinced she should flee New York and build an underground shelter in the foothills of the Rockies.

Finally, Jack stood and stretched. 'Gotta go. And if you don't hear from me, don't worry.'

Gia followed him to the door. She didn't want to see him go, but couldn't bring herself to tell him so. A persistent knot of hostility within her always veered her away from the subject of Gia and Jack.

'I don't know if I can be with him too much longer,' she whispered to Jack. 'He's so depressing!'

Jack smiled. 'You ain't heard nuthin' yet. Wait till the network news comes on and he gives you his analysis of what every story really means.' He put his hand on her shoulder and drew her close. 'Don't let him bother you. He means well.'