– Do you know what this is
– Urn, I'm sorry, the structure of the question got me a little confused.
He raised a finger.
– We did just talk about what a bad fucking idea it would be for you to be making jokes at this moment, didn't we?
– Yeah, yeah we did.
– OK.
He pointed at the phone again.
– So, do you know what this is
I shook my head, assuming this was one of those rhetorical things that would allow Po Sin to make a point and lead, soon after, to him chilling out a bit. I was right about part of that assumption.
He opened his mouth and a small hurricane wind blew out.
– It is not for your fucking personal use, motherfucker!
He made a fist, raised it high, brought it down slowly, and rested it on top of my head.
– It is
I tried to nod under the weight of his hand.
– Yeah. Totally. No personal calls.
He took his hand from my head.
– OK. Now. I, I'm a man. As evidence, I have a wife and a couple kids. I know all about screwing and how great it is. I also understand that when a chick calls you in the middle of the night and asks if she can come over, only a fucking corpse says no.
– Or a gay guy.
He made the fist again.
– Web! -Right. My bad.
He relaxed the fist. Sort of.
– Now I'm not saying you're off the hook. But, you know, I get it.
He brought up both hands, cupped my face in them, from crown to chin.
– As long as you were here, Web. As long as you were here when the van was stolen, I can understand. But if you guys were down the street messing around at the Stardust Lounge, or making a run for condoms or something, if you were not here as you were supposed to be, that is a very different matter. Yes? You do understand? You were here?
OK, this part here, I won't lie, this is bad. You might want to look away and not acknowledge the fact that I did what I did.
God knows I don't.
I brought up my hands and covered his.
– Po Sin, Yes. I understand. And I was here when the van was stolen.
True, every word. And, in an odd case of transmutation, also one of the worst lies of my life.
He took his hands from my face.
– OK. OK. Now. I need to, I need to start formulating a response to this act of aggression from Aftershock. You. You need to make yourself very fucking useful right now.
I looked around, saw a broom, grabbed it, looked at him.
He nodded.
– Yes. Start with that.
I started sweeping.
Gabe came to the open office door.
– Where's the van?
Po Sin brought his leg back and lashed it at the wastebasket and garbage exploded over the office and the tin basket hit the cinder-block wall and folded in half.
– Motherfucker! Motherfucking Morton looked us in the eyes and told us he'd agree to a cease-fire and then had one of his fucking peons come over here and rip us off! You were right! You were right on the fucking money, Gabe. That motherfucker cannot be trusted.
The garbage floated down to the floor.
Gabe watched it.
– Not like I'm happy about being right.
Po Sin stood in the middle of the trash.
– We'll have to do something about it.
– OK. Tonight?
Po Sin took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
– Lei has her yoga class tonight. I need to watch the kids.
Gabe nodded.
– OK, but better if we take care of it right away.
And he looked at me.
And Po Sin looked at me.
And I stopped sweeping trash.
– What?
Po Sin slipped his glasses back on.
– Got any plans? A pressing date with your new girl, maybe?
I bent and picked up the wastebasket and looked at the shape it had been twisted into when Po Sin booted it. It occurred to me that it was probably in better shape than my prospects of ever seeing Soledad again after my epic spazmatic display.
– No, I don't think that's gonna be a regular thing.
– All free, then? Not intending on another sleep marathon?
– No. I guess not.
He spread his arms.
– Then it's no problem?
– Urn, no? I mean, what?
– You can help Gabe out tonight.
– I can? Sure. I. To do?
Gabe tugged an earlobe.
– Nothing big. Just business communications.
I shook my head.
– I don't know, man. That sounds. I don't know.
Po Sin turned and looked out the open door and turned back and looked at me.
– Ahem.
I looked at the empty parking spot out there where his van wasn't parked and decided I should shut up and do as I was asked to do.
Gabe observed the silence for a moment, nodded his head.
– OK. So I'll pick you up tonight.
He turned to leave, turned back.
– Wear gloves.
And leave he did.
Po Sin walked through the door into the shop.
– Time to get your hands dirty, Web.
– Got a hug for Daddy?
Po Sin stuck out his index finger.
– Just a little one?
The twelve-year-old boy looked out from under his long bangs, raised a hand, extended his pinkie, and touched
