“You’re not thinking you’re gonna move in or nothing, are you?”
“This shithole? You got to be yankin’ me. Might as well take up nesting in a buffalo’s butt…. How long has that roach in the corner been dead?”
“I think he’s just patient.”
“He’s dead. Been that way for a while. Ants have been at him. They’re at him now. You’ll be covered in them, you don’t get some spray or somethin’.”
Harry got up. He was wearing the clothes of the night before. Tad said, “You need to get you some pajamas, sleep in your underwear or something. Sweat on your clothes ain’t good for you. Makes you stink.”
“It’s not a habit. I even take showers.”
Harry took the snack bar off the table and dragged up the chair he had placed by the pallet. Tad sat down on the couch.
“About that pussy,” Tad said. “You got to be careful these days, you can get the disease. That’s what rubbers are for. They ought to pass those things out free.”
“Some places do.”
“Unless the place has got Jesus. Then it’s a crime to keep your dick from falling off. You ain’t supposed to do it, you’re some big high-muckety-muck Christian, but hey, people fuck. It’s what we do. Ever notice how Christians quote the Old Testament more than the New Testament? That’s so they can say mean things, talk bad about the queers and such. New Testament, that’s the Christian book. The stuff in red, that’s the Jesus talk. That’s what they’re supposed to live their life by, but, no, they like the God of the Old Testament, the mean, judgmental one, before he was on Zoloft. Noticed that?”
“You’re quite the intellectual.”
“You’re seeing my sober side. Look quick. I don’t stay this way long.”
14
Harry was surprised, because the neighborhood he drove Tad to was pretty nice.
Correction.
It was damn nice.
Fact was, the place was ritzy.
Harry thought Tad must have bought his place before it all got built up. Must have some little house tucked away amongst all the expensive stuff. A yard with a tree and a run-down house and a car on blocks. Maybe some beer cans tossed about. A dead cat under a bush.
Tad said, “Pull over to the curb.”
“You got to puke?”
“No. This is home.”
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
Home was large, adobe style, and around the house was a high brick fence. There was a gate drive. The gate was open, and oak and sweet gum trees grew high and shady around the house, which covered a lot of ground.
“You have an apartment in the back?”
“They let me sleep in the yard, under a tree.”
“What?”
“It’s mine. Even the fence.”
“Damn.”
“You haven’t seen my housekeeping yet. Hey, you want to come in, have a Coke, some more coffee, somethin’?”
“I guess.”
“Well, I won’t get out here then. Take a right, go up the drive.”
“There never were any murders in this house, were there?”
“What?”
“Murders? Any violence?”
Tad studied Harry. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Kind of am.”
“I don’t know of any. Wife’s family property, got the place when we were twenty-five. Her folks lived here before, but I never heard of such. They may have had some vicious games of Go Fish, however.”
Harry drove through the open gate onto the estate. Inside they had a Coke. They sat at a long table in a large room. On one end of the table was a pile of books; the other end held a collection of crumpled beer cans. There were beautiful carpets hanging on the wall, some pretty snazzy paintings that appeared to be of…well, they were of colors. If they were supposed to be of anything in particular, Harry couldn’t make them out.
One wall had a shelf of knickknacks, little ceramic animals: elephants, tigers, lions, bears. They ranged from pink to green to blue.
The place was dusty, and there were clothes thrown about the floor.
“You are a shitty housekeeper,” Harry said.
“My wife was great. She called in the maid. Me, I had to let her go. The maid, I mean. About ten years back. I take out the trash and toss out paper plates and such. Live kind of like you do. Mostly I stay in this room. It was the family room. There’s a television behind that wall. Sliding panel and all. I think it still works. Fact is, except for the toilet and a room or two, I’m not sure I remember what all the other rooms are like.”
“Except, you have a lot of rooms.”
“Twenty rooms, to be exact, not counting kitchens and bathrooms. And the dojo.”
“Dojo?”
“Japanese word. Gym. Workout room for martial arts. I used to teach it. An art called Shen Chuan.”
“What happened?”
“Life happened. About that murder business—why’d you ask?”
“You wouldn’t want to know, and if I told you, you’d think I was nuts.”
“Maybe I would, but what else you got to do? What do you care if some drunk you don’t even know thinks you’re nuts? And it would be entertaining to me. Nuts tell good stories.”
“You tell me about you, and I’ll tell you about me.”
“I didn’t want to play fair,” Tad said. “Just wanted to hear about you.”
“Then no deal.”
Tad nodded.
“All right, kid. I’m not sure why I’m telling you, but, okay. Maybe I owe you one…. Naw, bullshit. I need to talk about it. I talk to the fucking wall, no one’s here. And, except for you, no one has been here in years. Except an old parrot named Chester. Belonged to my wife. I was one happy motherfucker when that feathered bastard died. Was always cleaning out shitty newspapers from his cage and such. There’s lots of things I miss, but that parrot ain’t one of ’em.”
“Your life story is about taking care of a parrot?”
“Let me put it this way, kid. Back when I was a little older than you, I was a drunk.”
“You’re a drunk now.”
“True, but let me tell my story, all right? So I was a drunk. And then I met my wife. This woman, she was so beautiful she made my back teeth ache. Oh, there were probably more beautiful women, but for me, she was it. Before her I was just banging tail. Wasn’t lying to anyone to get it. Just dating, doin’ the thing, you know. It was the seventies. There was so much free pussy it was like money from home. Then I met Dorothy. I loved that woman deeply, my friend. I don’t know how often that happens, that kind of love, but when it does, it’s an amazing thing.”
“My mom and dad. They were that way.”
“They’re lucky…. Were?”
“Dad died of a heart attack.”
“Well, me and your mom, we got similar tragedies. But me and Dorothy got married, I quit drinking, and we
