Mr. Harry, to the room: “I explained to Cuba that calling my winner today Black Boy was never meant as a racial slur.”
Cuba: “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Harry: “Tell my friends what you think of the name Black Boy.”
Cuba: “I’m proud the horse was name for me since it wins all its fuckin races.”
Bursts of laughter.
Mr. Harry: “Cuba, we don’t use African words here in polite society.”
More laughter, but not as much.
L ayla watched from the bar. She had told Cuba s Kd t='The was tired of hospitals; now he was showing her what he was tired of: playing the grateful darky, grinning with this asshole’s arm around his neck, Cuba reciting his lines on cue.
Mr. Harry was telling the Blue Grass Room it was unfortunate Old Tom got sick and passed away on him. Old Tom, bless his heart, had become fearful of traffic, always drove with his foot on the brake. “You weren’t patient,” Mr. Harry said, “it could make you irritable.” Mr. Harry paused for the Blue Grass crowd to laugh kindly at him. “But now Cuba,” Mr. Harry said, “he’d put his foot on the gas and leave it there. I asked him one time, ‘Cuba, you never stole cars by any chance, have you?’ What’d you tell me?”
Cuba saying, “I believe I tole you no, Boss, that is one thing the devil never made me do.”
Mr. Harry slapped Cuba’s shoulder, told him, “Get outta here,” the horse lovers laughing, and Mr. Harry joined a front table making room for him.
C uba walked back to the bar raising his hand to people applauding, Cuba nodding, grinning until he reached the bar and Layla set her drink in front of him. Cuba picked it up and finished the vodka without looking around. He said, “You know how many times I been the grateful nigga?”
“Everyone believed you,” Layla said.
“What he said about Old Tom was bullshit. He hired me and fired the old man, why he took sick and died.”
“Watching your skit,” Layla said, “I couldn’t help thinking, one day you’re gonna turn around, take Harry by the throat and strangle him in front of his friends. They’ll think it’s part of the act.”
Cuba said, “Drivin him in the Rolls, I’ve thought of aimin the car to send it off a curve, top of the grade. I bail out and watch the man lose his ass. Car hits and blows up, like in the movies. Real life you don’t get that much explosion. I’m drivin Mr. Harry… the man already has to take a leak. I see in my brights a stretch of road comin up, the side droppin away steep… I say to him, ‘Mr. Harry, get out your dick, we almost there.’ ”
Layla’s eyes on him turned warm. She said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Try me out,” Cuba said, “it won’t hurt none.”
He watched her take a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her raincoat-expensive-looking, a shiny black one-waited till she was smoking it before he said, “You know it ain’t allowed in here.”
“If they catch you,” Layla said.
“You like to cause a scene?”
“They say anything I take one more drag,” Layla said, “and put it out.” She moved closer. “Something I’ve wanted to tell you about Harry’s kidneys-”
“The time I brought him in?”
“He comes in once or twice a year.”
“The man takes a leak every twenty, thirty minutes. Set your watch by it.”
“That’s his prostate. His kidneys aren’t too bad. He has a pinched nerve in his lower back.”
“His sacroiliac fuckin with him,” Cuba said. “I had that. Kept me in bed till a chiropractor fixed me up.”
“Harry tells us to get donors with his blood type ready.”
“You need a kidney,” Cuba said, “I thought you had to wait in line.”
“Harry gives a million a year to the hospital fund. The donor gets a hundred grand the moment he shows up.”
“He wants a kidney so bad,” Cuba said, “give him one.”
“Or take the old one out,” Layla said, “and put it back in?”
Cuba grinned. “Come out the hospital a new man.”
He saw Mr. Harry getting up from the table as Layla said, “That’s kind of what I’m thinking.”
Cuba heard her but kept watching his boss shaking hands with people at the table. He said to Layla, “I expect to see you pretty soon now we lovers.”
She said, “How about tonight?”
Didn’t hesitate.
“Could be late, I get done haulin his ass around.”
“Come anytime. I’m in bed I’ll leave a light on.”
“Tell me where I’m going.”
She laid her hand on a cocktail napkin, folded, and brought it along the bar to Cuba. “It’s all here,” Layla said, “with a key to let you in.”
Cuba liked how her eyes turned soft looking at him. This was a cool woman with evil ways. The best kind. He said, “Why don’t you lift the kidneys offa Dr. Blow Job?” He said, “No, he’s too close. I think so’s Mr. Harry.”
“I have an idea how we’d do Harry.”
“You’re exposin your intenti ons,” Cuba said, “to a lover?”
“As soon as I heard you’re Ah-frican,” Layla said, “I knew you were my guy.”
Chapter Seven
You run out of gas,” Art Mullen said. “You’re on your way to Lexington and you run out of gas. This is after you stirred up the state cops, got ’em looking for the Crowes.”
They were in the Harlan marshal’s office, Art standing over Raylan sitting down, trapped in his seat.
“What told you they were taking off for Lexington?” Raylan’s boss said.
“It had to be where the doctor was.”
“How you know that?”
“It’s where they do transplants.”
“But why do they take off to see the doctor?”
“He runs the show, he’ll tell ’em what to do.”
“You thought about all that,” Art said, “and decided not to get warrants. But you didn’t look to see if you needed gas.”
“I thought I had at least one more gallon.”
“You know Rachel was against going to Lexington?”
“I don’t recall her telling me why.”
“Because you’re relying on St. Christopher to find the doctor for you, and there isn’t or ever was a St. Christopher. Somebody made him up.”
Raylan said, “Did you know that?”
“I think so,” Art said. “But I’ve never asked him to find anybody for me. You’re saying St. Christo N/dibaSompher told you to go to Lexington?”
“I worked it out,” Raylan said, “before I heard anything definite. You know there’s a world-famous organ transplant hospital there? UK Medical. They transplant kidneys all day long, seventy miles away from where Angel’s were taken.”
“That’s what you’re goin on?”
“I had a hunch. You have ’em, don’t you?”
“How many hunches,” Art said, “ever come to pass?”
“All right, we know the Crowes are involved. We pick ’em up, talk to ’em, give ’em a deal on their sentence for the doctor.”
Art said, “If he’s a resident at the hospital, he’ll be there when we decide to look him up. We got something
