Alice & Dorothy (28 page)

Besides, the plasma screen had a fuckin toilet lid smashed through it. Try telling the faggots at Best Buy that
that
was a factory defect.

“It ain’t really heavy at all, is it?” Eazy said as they moved the television carcass out onto the side of the house. “I mean it looks like it should be heavy, but that other T.V. is heavier I think. Half the size too.”

“This thing is like two inches thick,” Rabbit said. “The other one is two
feet
thick, and it’s full of glass. Plus, there’s a big-ass magnet at the back of it, like in a subwoofer. Thing weighs twenty pounds on its own.”

“Listen to this guy,” Eazy said, grinning. “Fuckin’ Maytag Repairman over here.”

“That’s washers and dryers, you dumbshit,” Rabbit said. “Everybody
knowsh
how these things work. Common knowledge.”

“Whatever you say,
professor
,” Eazy laughed. “Why don’t you triangulate us a spot where to put this down?”

“I’ll triangulate
you
,” Rabbit said. Exposed roots in his mouth touched, like crossing live wires on a car battery, and he winced.

“You should see a dentist man,” Eazy said. “Your shit is
all
fucked up.”

“
Yeah yeah
,” Rabbit said. “First we find that bitch and get my shit back. When I sell off that brick, I can get all new teeth. Gold ones, if I want. Say
PayaNiggah
on them.”

Eazy laughed. Rabbit motioned to a spot beside the gas meter. The two men set the television down with the screen against the side of the house.

Devon popped his head around the side of the house. “Better come check this shit out,” he said, and disappeared again.

“Probably titties,” Eazy said. “You know how he gets.”

Rabbit followed Eazy back into the house and Devon was sitting on the couch as far away from the bloodstains as he could get. He had Rabbit’s old T.V. set on, and the channel was set to the local news.

As if on cue, the screen flashed to an interior shot of the motel office. It looked like a scene from a horror film. There was blood on the walls and the glass booth, and there were officers milling about. Someone had drawn eyes all over the glass.

“
Authorities haven’t begun to speculate who is responsible for the grisly, and apparently ritualistic murder,
” the voiceover said. The screen flashed back to the parking lot of the Blue Moon Motel and an attractive young news reporter.

“Apparently this motel is a known flophouse for prostitutes, drug addicts, and occasional pornography film crew,” she said. “Police have started combing the neighbourhood, starting with the tenants of the Blue Moon Motel themselves. They have had limited success in getting any leads, as gunfire and violence can be pretty common up in this part of the city, and people are nervous about getting involved. Especially with the grisly way the victim, who police say is 32 year old
Steven Marsh
, a long-time employee of the motel, was murdered.”

“Holy shit!” Eazy said again. He flicked his fingers at the screen. “Rabbit, is that your
car?
”

Rabbit knelt down and put his face close to the screen. The background of the parking lot was blurry as fuck, but there was no mistaking the shape of the Volkswagen Rabbit parked in front of one of the blue doors of the motel. About as far from the motel as you could get and still be on the main floor. Still, his car was far from unique. A lot of kids had those old Volkswagens; the damn things were nearly indestructible and cheap as hell on gas. It was like a Ford Taurus; the perfect high school car. The less you worked on them the better they seemed to run.

“Naww, that ain’t my car,” Rabbit said slowly.
But what if it is?
His mind kept telling him, over and over again like a skipping record.
What if it is? What if it is?

“Looks like yer car,” Devon said. “
Jes
like it.”

“What are you, retarded?” Rabbit snapped. “I just said it wasn’t. Now shut the fuck up about it.”

“Dude,” Eazy said. “We just called there last night. What are the chances? It ain’t a coincidence. It can’t be. That’s too convenient.”

Rabbit didn’t respond. He turned his attention back to the T.V. screen, and to the thrumming in his head.
What if it is
.

“
Shore
look like it,” Devon said again.

“Fuck me,” Rabbit said. It really did look
jes
like it.
Could I be this lucky?
It hardly seemed possible. That bitch had smashed in the side of his face, robbed him of a
lot
of scratch, busted up his T.V., and stolen his car. Shit. Maybe he deserved a little luck. Alice had fucked him over bigtime. And if he didn’t get the drugs back in a hurry, they were liable to sell it off or smoke it all and then he’d end up in the river with a shank in his belly. Because he wasn’t even a real pro yet; this was his test, and if he failed at it the Mexicans who were supplying him wouldn’t honour him with a double tap to the back of the head like real pros got.

They’d cut his balls off, gut him like small game and throw him in the fuckin river. They’d stick a blade in his lungs so he wouldn’t float when they dumped him. Hopefully he’d drown before the cold water got into his chest cavity and started pressing on his heart. But like his dad always said,
hope in one hand and shit in the other, kid, see which is heavier
.

Let’s just take a ride by,
dig
?” Eazy was saying. “Real calm. Just three mahfuckahs out for some Denny’s.

It was worth it just to take a look. Sure. It beat sitting around here doing nothing.
Less chance of unwanted company if we’re out on the road, too
. Sure, hope in one hand, shit in the other. This trip could either be the hope or the shit, like his daddy said. Didn’t hurt to take a peak, at any rate.”Yeah. Let’s do it.” He got up and grabbed his sweater.

“Yeah,” Rabbit said. He pulled up the item he was looking for. A snub nosed revolver. A thick fucker, .44 calibre. There was blood on the barrel, but Rabbit either didn’t notice or he didn’t care. “Usually, that’s how we do, but I got the gun. So I’m driving,
Eez
. You got a problem with that you take it up with my little friend here.”

“Fine,” Rabbit said. “You can wait in the car like a bitch. Devon and I will take care of it. Now give me the fuckin’
keysh
before I give you another hole to cry out of.”

“Man, whatever.” Eazy tossed the keys toward Rabbit, who caught them with his free hand. “You fuck up my car at all you’re payin’ for it. I mean scratches, dents, anything.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rabbit said. “Get out my house
, niggahs
. Let’s do this.”

“Not cool!” Devon said, but he followed Eazy out the door just the same. “Shouldn’t talk like that, son. ‘Bout to gitcho ass chopped.”

“
Shpare
me,” Rabbit said. “We find Alice, I’ll spring for cheeseburgers.” Once outside he slammed the door to his house shut and was sure to lock it. The wind was gusting. It smelled faintly of motor oil and wet grass. Devon and Eazy were down by the car already.

“Fuck your cheeseburgers,” Eazy said quietly. He flopped the door open for Devon, who climbed in the back of Eazy’s silver Grand Prix, then shot Rabbit one more exasperated look before climbing into the passenger seat.

Rabbit went around to the driver’s side. When Eazy didn’t move to unlock the door immediately, he tapped the driver’s side glass with his pistol.

“Lazy fucker,” Eazy said, but he reached over and flipped the door handle, which popped the lock.

Rabbit climbed in and started it up.
Shit in one hand, hope in the oth
er, his daddy had told him.
See what weighs more
. Usually when he was hoping to get something cool for Christmas (shit), or he needed money for school supplies (shit). Poppa Rabbit was a clever fuck indeed. He laughed every time he said it. Rabbit popped the car into gear and flicked the lights on. The car rumbled out onto the street and into the evening.

Here’s to hope
, he thought.
Just this one time
.

Dorothy grabbed Toto up in her arms. There was a brief moment of panic when she thought she’d lost him somewhere, like left him in that gas station bathroom where they’d washed the blood and violence of Rabbit’s house off, or oddly even at the Burger King where they’d gotten drive-through, somehow stuck on the counter waiting for some small child to claim him....

But no, he was down along the side of the bed in that little channel that made it seem like there was space underneath instead of some kind of fitted flooring mould that opened like a vase and held the mattresses in place.

She had a sick feeling in her stomach. It was twisting in knots like a wet snake around her spine, and there was nothing she could do but watch as the parking lot outside was taped off around the motel office, and where a brief glimpse of the inside of the room Steve Marsh, 32, long time employee of the Blue Moon Motel, was carved up like a Christmas turkey.

Dorothy recognized the garish yellow light and the lame ‘seventies style decorating plan that permeated the whole of the motel. But it was on the protective window glass surrounding Steve’s desk that Dorothy focused on. It looked like a fish bowl kinda, if Steve was a fish. Only now, it looked like a nightmare straight out of Dorothy’s own head.

It looked like the mirror, in the shower, before Dorothy had scrubbed it all down. Those eyes. Those goddamn eyes.
I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU
, it said. Here, on the T.V., in true to life Technicolor, was proof. She looked over at Alice and found the girl staring at her already, her face painted with a thoughtful, yet slightly distasteful look. The way you might look if you had just taken a big slug of milk from the milk carton in the refrigerator, only to realize that the slightly cheesy aftertaste might mean the milk was starting to go south.
Might
be, because you were looking at the expiry date and trying to think about what day it was, and if you were safe or not because that little blue stamp with its blurry date was in the past or somewhere in your future still.

“That’s fucked up,” Alice said slowly, her eyes like snake eyes, waiting for Dorothy to make a move or say something dangerous. Something that would mark her as prey.

Dorothy didn’t speak, but she nodded. “Who would do something like that?”

“Whoever did that is pretty fucked up,” Alice said, after a moment’s thought. “I’d say they were like a landmine. Those ones that bounce up to your belly and blow your balls off. Just waiting for someone to come along so they could blow their wad and rip someone to pieces.”

What is she trying to say? Is she blaming me?
“Or
s-someone
who just has a few issues,” Dorothy said. “I mean, come on. Some bum or something passing through, all high or...maybe just...,” she stopped and looked down at her hands, twisting poor Toto into knots. “I don’t know. Shit. Someone far away from here by now.” Dorothy felt like a dandelion wilting under a magnifying glass. She could almost feel the heat of Alice’s gaze on her petals.

“Can I trust you?” Alice said suddenly.

Was this the moment of truth for them?
Dorothy bit her lip. She rubbed her face. She looked at Alice again, but found she couldn’t hold that molten stare. She looked down at Toto instead. It reminded her of a driving class she’d taken in high school.
Never keep your eyes on one thing too long,
her instructor had said. He’d put his hand on her thigh while she was attempting a parallel park. She’d looked at his hand for only a moment before looking away. She was always such a good student.
Look at the road. Look away. Look at the speedometer. Look away
. Look at Alice, look away.