Skin Deep

'He hates us something awful,' Alma said. 'After he broke my thumb, you know what he said? He said, 'It's okay, honey, you can pick your nose with the other hand.' And then he tried to do my other hand.'

'What did you do?' I was fascinated in a horrid sort of way.

'I kicked him in the balls,' Alma said in her ten-year-old's voice. 'He didn't even feel it at first because he was having so much fun. He kept coming after me. Then he felt it, and he fell down. He was screaming that he was going to kill me. Since he was lying down I kicked him again.'

'Too bad he's only got two,' I said.

'His face got all red, and he was spitting at me. I was trying to get the door to his trailer open, but I couldn't figure out how to work it, it's not a regular doorknob, you know? And he got up and he was coming toward me, and I finally got it open. I fell down the steps into the dirt. Some man, the man who had hired me, grabbed me and pulled me away and into his car.'

'That's your reference,' Kareema said. 'Dixie.'

'Whoever he was, he didn't care dirt about me,' Alma said. 'I kept telling him about my thumb because I couldn't move it and it looked like it was on all backward, but he just told me to shut up, everything was okay now, and to stay in the car and not make trouble. Then he went into the trailer. After about ten minutes he came out and said not to worry, Toby was sorry. Then he had somebody else take me to the hospital.'

'Toby was sorry,' I said.

'Yeah, like that was supposed to make everything all right. Jeez, what a weirdo.' Kareema gave Alma a pat on the wrist. 'That's who you're protecting,' she said.

'Did he call here afterward? Did he seem ashamed of himself?'

She looked surprised. 'Five or six times. He kept asking for Alma, saying he wanted her to forgive him. Finally I let him talk to her. Tell the man what happened, kitten.'

'He cried,' Alma said. 'He really cried.'

'He always does,' I put in.

'Then, the next day I got an envelope. It had five thousand dollars in it, all in twenties and fifties. And this card, like a Valentine's card, with all these sticky things written on it.'

'And that was it?'

'Not really,' Kareema said. 'He still calls once in a while. Says he'd like to take Alma out, show her he's really a nice guy. Talk about sick.'

'Does he?' I said, thinking. 'That's very interesting.' It was so interesting that I lighted another of Kareema's cigarettes before I realized what I was doing.

'Two or three times he said he was going to come by,' Kareema continued. 'I told him I'd call the cops the minute he set foot in the place. Women don't frighten him, maybe, but cops he's afraid of.'

She beckoned for her cigarettes, and I threw them to her. She lit up. We all looked at each other for a minute.

'When was the last time he called?'

'Last week sometime. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday.'

'Well, well, well,' I said. 'Isn't that nice?'

'What's nice about it?' Kareema demanded. The bell rang in the hallway.

'I'll get it,' Alma said. 'You two just sit tight.' She went to the door, looking like a teenager at a slumber party.

'That's it?' Kareema said.

'I guess so.' I got up. 'Make me a promise.'

'Depends on what it is.'

'Let me know the next time he calls.' I gave her a card.

'What for?'

'Why not? It can't hurt, it may help. It may help put Toby on ice.'

'I don't see how. I'm not going to let him get near her. I don't care what he wants to pay. I've got a business to think about. You know, this isn't a job where you can get workers comp.'

The door opened and Alma came back in. 'It's the dentist,' she said.

'Hell,' Mistress Kareema said. 'It's going to be a long night. Good-bye, detective. That is all, isn't it?'

'Except for one thing.'

'What's that?' She sounded weary.

'I'm tired of phony names. What's your real one?'

She regarded me. 'Shirley,' she finally said.

'How'd you choose Kareema?'

'None of your business.' She sounded defensive, but Alma laughed.

'Basketball,' Alma said. 'She's crazy for basketball.' Kareema gave her a shove, but she sidestepped. 'Her idea of a great time would be Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.' Alma dissolved into giggles. Kareema actually blushed.

'You can call me Shirley,' she said to me. 'Now get out of here. Alma and I have to get into our nurses' uniforms.'

On the way to Alice I passed the dentist's Ferrari. The wages of sin, I thought. I hoped they were high.

17

The Tornado

Nana was glassy-eyed, but she was still at the bar. When I took her arm she twisted in slow-mo to see who I was, and her eyes almost crossed. Then she turned back to the bar, reeling slightly with the effort. As an afterthought, she shrugged my hand away.

'Oh, boy,' she mumbled. 'The hero's hero is here. Quick, everybody, put on your tights and cape.' A glass stood on the bar in front of her, next to her cigarettes. On top of the cigarettes was a pack of matches that advised the world to EAT OUT MORE OFTEN.

I sniffed the glass. 'What have you been drinking?'

'Seven-Up. Toby's private stock. Who wants to know?' The words were slurred and sullen.

'I think it's more like Tiny's private stock,' I said. 'Out of the little jars in the office.'

Pinpoints of alarm kindled in her eyes. 'For chrissakes, shut up. Somebody might hear you.'

'I'll say it over the PA system if you like. How many?'

She wiped her nose inelegantly. 'How many what?'

'Loads, stupid. How many loads?'

'Two,' she said. 'Or three.' She made a careless gesture with her hand. 'So what? I was among friends until you came in.'

I took her arm again, harder this time. 'Say good-bye to your friends. We're leaving.'

'And now,' said the clown at the door, speaking into a hand mike and trying for a swinger's drawl, 'here's our hot little treat from south of the border. Five feet two of pure salsa and cucarachas.' He obviously didn't speak Spanish. 'Let's hear it for Chili.' The Hispanic girl I'd seen before climbed up onto the big stage wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a spangled red G-string that looked like leftover yardage from Dorothy's ruby slippers. Business was slow, but the girls weren't. A few customers applauded laconically.

Nana yanked her arm away and cranked her eyes around to look at me again, but I was too close and she couldn't focus. The tub of lard at the front door, the one who'd demanded seven dollars earlier in the evening, had put the mike down and was staring at us. It wasn't a sweet stare.

'I'm not going anywhere. Not with you, anyway. Someone reminded me of a word for you about an hour ago. You're a louse. 'He's a louse,' he said, and I said, 'You're right.' ' Her voice was thicker than maple syrup.

'And you're loaded. In fact, you're loaded beyond any kind of civilized belief.'

'Get off my back,' she said. 'In fact, as you might say, college boy, get out of my sight. You're on that toadstool's side. Lips that touch toadstools shall never touch mine.' She giggled halfheartedly