The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death

– Asshole, they seized the terminal. The law has the almonds.

I had a sudden flashback to the classroom. The effort it could take on some days to explain rudimentary principles of the English language to twelve-year-olds.

– Jaime, I know this is an abstract concept, but follow me here. Harris, he doesn't know the almonds were seized.

– Yeah, but.

– Jaime. He. Does. Not. Know. The. Almonds. Were. Seized.

He opened his mouth. Froze. Nodded.

– Yeeeaaah, man. He doesn't know. Yeah, that's good. Hey asshole, that's really fucking good. Great twist, man, great twist.

He slapped the envelope on his thigh.

– Will it work, asshole? Will he take the papers instead of the can?

I stared at him.

– Urn, wasn't this the way it was supposed to work in the first place?

– Well yeah, but I never knew if it'd really work. Think it will?

I thought about the options, couldn't come up with any in particular.

– Yeah, it'll work.

– Well it doesn't work, we got the gat as backup.

– You shouldn't need the gun. All you need to do is stay out of sight.

He gave me a squint.

– What's that stay out of sight shit?

– I'm sure you'll be shocked to discover that Harris doesn't like you.

– Fuck him anyway. Like I like his hick ass.

– Just so. That being the case, I'd rather not have two armed men who hate each other in the same room while I'm negotiating for Soledad's release.

– Man, I got a stake in this.

– Yeah, it's your project, I know. And your stake is guaranteed. What isn't guaranteed is that Harris will deal straight. So if things go off, I want some backup. Follow me?

He cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly.

– Yeah, backup, I follow. I like that. Buddy cop action. 48 Hours. That works, it sells. And that's it, that's all I got to do to get my pay?

I nodded.

– Yeah. Just stay out of sight, keep your eyes open, make sure no one backdoors me while I'm inside. And be ready in case I call for help.

He gave the gun a spin on his index finger.

– So we do need the gun.

– We don't need the gun. Just be ready in case I need help.

– Be ready with the gun.

– Jaime!

– Chill, chill, I'm just fuckin’ with you. I'll be cool and keep my eyes open and I'll be ready. And that's all, right?

– That and be yourself.

He leaned back and tucked his hands behind his head.

– Bein’ myself is what I do best. Star quality.

He pointed at the keys in my hand.

– So we rolling or what?

I pocketed the keys.

– Naw.

– What, we just gonna sit around here?

I got out and started down the street.

– Nope. We'll walk.

And we did, walked back to the Harbor Inn where the bad guys were holed up waiting for the showdown.

BENEATH A RAGING EYE

– Where's my girl?

– Where's my can?

I looked at Harris, and I reminded myself about his really big gun and the way he'd used my phone to kill someone. I took into careful account that more was at risk in this motel room than just my miserable existence, and I formulated a response that was calculated to bring calm to a fraught situation.

– Could you shut the fuck up for a second and tell me where my girl is?

I raised a finger.

– Not that I really think she's my girl, I know that was an asinine thing to say, just that I'm a little hyped up right now and some weird things are liable to come out of my mouth.

Harris came across the room and kicked me in the shin and I bent to grab it and he rapped me on the back of my head with the butt of that really big gun I was supposed to be remembering he had.

I curled on the carpet, one hand on the lump growing from my shin, one on the lump growing from the back of my head, white light pulsing at the edges of my vision with every beat of my heart.

Harris looked down at me.

– Had a conversation, didn't we, about you and that mouth and bein’ in the same room?

I nodded and felt my brain flop around inside my skull.

He nodded back.

– Don't keep that conversation in mind, weird things are liable to come out of my gun.

His driver, appropriately dressed in Wrangler jeans, a sleeveless Raiders T, and a meshback trucker's cap with Yosemite Sam on the front, barking Back Off., opened the door.

– It ain't out there. Ain't on the street, ain't up on Anaheim. No truck, no can. Just this pecker.

He shoved Jaime into the room.

Jamie stumbled in, tripped over my legs and went on his ass.

– Fuck off me, hick.

The driver flipped him off.

– Fuck you, pecker.

I got up on one elbow and looked at Jaime.

– I told you to stay out of sight.

He untangled his legs from mine.

– I was staying out of sight! I was way down at the corner staying out of sight. No one told me Mr. Big Ten Four over there was gonna come poking around.

Mr. Big Ten Four hitched up the waist of his jeans.

– Pecker was lurking, Harris.

I rubbed my head.

– He wasn't lurking, he was just keeping an eye out in case you guys tried to pull something.

Mr. Big Ten Four reached in his back pocket and came up with Jaime's pistol.

– Was too lurking, man. With this on ‘im.

Harris scratched the thin stubble on the crown of his head, lightly put the toe of his boot in my side.

– Looks like we're not the ones trying to pull nothin'. Looks like we're the ones showed up with what we're supposed to have. That bein’ the girl.

He pointed at me and Jaime.

– As opposed to some jackasses who didn't show up with what they were supposed to have. That bein’ a load