Bandits (1987) (27 page)

Wally Scales came out of the hotel and walked straight across Bienville to Franklin de Dios, standing by the black Chrysler in his mod black suit, shirt buttoned but no tie: the Indian chauffeur, brought out of the wilds of the Rio Coco by way of Miami to a street in the French Quarter. Man, oh, man and you '
ll never know, Wally Scales thought, what '
s in his head.

Why don
'
t we have us a farewell drink, amigo?

I have to be here.

They may have company in, but I doubt they
'
ll be going out on the town, all that loot there.

They say I have to stay outside.

Use the back door, huh? And wipe your feet.

What?

Nothing. I
'
m just talking. You suppose to stay here all night?

They say to keep watch, that
'
s all.

For what?

I don
'
t know what.

They don
'
t seem worried about anything, that I noticed. They seem worried to you?

They see only themselves.

There, just for a second, the Indian starting to show himself.

Anything you want to tell me, Franklin?

Wally Scales noticed a slight hesitation before the Indian shook his head.

No strange or unusual occurrences? . . . Where
'
d you go today?

Follow the woman
'
s car.

Yeah? Where
'
d she go, anyplace special?

Just around.

You can tell me anything you want, my friend, that might be bothering you.
Wally Scales gave him time to unburden, but got nothing for it. He said in a quiet, confessional tone, I imagine it was you had to take out that guy in the restaurant. In the Men '
s room.

Franklin said nothing.

I
'
m sorry you had to do that. You understand he was a very dangerous individual. He would '
ve tried to steal your money, I '
m confident of that, and kill anybody in his way. We know for a fact he was in Managua. . . . Well, anyway . . . Okay, so you '
re all set? Ready for your ride on the banana boat?

I think it
'
s time to go back now, yes. See my family.

And fight your war?

Franklin moved his shoulders in what might be a shrug, the man back inside himself.

You want to stay, I can fix it.

I want to go home.

If that
'
s what you want, Franklin, you can have it. You can have the goddamn bats flying in the window, the malaria, hepatitis, diarrhea Somoza '
s revenge, the son of a bitch and the bugs. All the bugs known to man and some more. I never saw bugs like that anywhere in my life. They '
re more like fucking animals than bugs. Two years I spent down there, my friend, and I ain '
t ever going back. Not for pay or at gun point. I listen to those two freedom fighters upstairs saying they could be eating their last three-hundred-dollar meal, it breaks my heart. The colonel talking out of both sides of his mouth . . .

Wally Scales looked toward Bourbon Street at the passage of tourists, stared for several moments before his thoughts came back, and he said, I '
ll tell you something, Franklin, since it isn '
t likely we '
ll ever meet again. I speak fairly good Spanish and can even understand most of what I hear, but I never let on. Act dumb and listen and you learn things. I hear the colonel, for instance, saying one thing in Espa+|ol and something entirely different in English. Even his tone, going from one to the other, gives him away and he doesn '
t even realize it. I failed to learn any deep secrets, but I recognize the man '
s greed and I '
ll tell you straight, keep your eyes open. If they haven '
t included you in their conversation there might be more to it than common snobbery. The way those two cowboys enjoy the good life it '
s hard to imagine them ever again taking a dump in the woods. They '
re just liable to leave you standing on a street corner and disappear. If the dirty bastards ditch you, call me. I '
m gonna give you a number in Hilton Head that '
s in South Carolina. See, I can have you picked up and somehow get you back home. That '
s a promise. Or, on the other hand, they take you along, say back to Miami or someplace like that? Key Biscayne? I '
d appreciate your letting me in on that, too. I don '
t give a shit about the money they scrounged they didn '
t exactly get it from widows and orphans. But I '
d hate to think I '
ve been used. Is that a deal? You '
ll call me?

Franklin nodded.

Did they show it to you, the money?

Franklin shook his head.

Five bank sacks up there
three of them, they say, full of American dollars.
Wally Scales put on a frown and adjusted his glasses. Wait a minute are they dumb? I doubt they know the capital of Nebraska, but they '
re not foolhardy, are they? Leave two million bucks lying on the couch and go to bed? . . . If you were the colonel, Franklin, how would you safeguard it?

If I didn
'
t sit on it,
Franklin said, with my gun?

Yeah, what
'
s a better way?

Hide it?

I suppose you could, but where?

Wally Scales let him think about it.

Franklin, remember how we taught you how to rig a grenade? You open a door or a window shutter and kapow. . . . I believe the colonel neutralized a priest one time with such a device. Priest opened the trunk of his car and went to his reward. You know why I '
m telling you this? Should you get curious, my friend, and since those two don '
t tell you anything, be damn careful what you open. You understand? Nod your head.

Franklin nodded.

They tell me they have over two million bucks. How many cordobas is that? Add a few zeroes and trade it on the black, shit, that
'
d buy you some bins and fried plantains, wouldn '
t it? If it wasn '
t going for weapons and ammo.

The Indian didn
'
t blink or say a word.

But that
'
s where we are, Franklin, in the business of making silent war.
Wally Scales glanced toward the corner again, hearing faint Dixieland now from somewhere on Bourbon Street. Looking at Franklin again, he said in his quieter tone, I '
m gonna tell you something else. For your ears only, okay? . . . I '
m getting out of this fucking job. The man who hired me and worked his way up to deputy director, the highest-ranking pro in the company, handed in his resignation. He quit, fed up to his eyeballs with this kind of shit, and that '
s exactly what I '
m gonna do. You know why?

He waited for Franklin de Dios, staring at him with his dark and solemn Indian eyes, to shake his head.

'
Cause no matter what we do or who we use, we
'
re always so fucking right. You know what I '
m saying?

You
'
re tired of it,
the Indian said.

Oh, man, am I.

Chapter
22

LUCY TOLD HIM SHE LIVED all her life in this house until she went away and that it was wallpapered and redecorated every few years but always looked the same, except for the sun parlor. She said if you didn '
t go in the sun parlor it would be possible to live in this house through several generations and never change your attitude. She said you had to be careful living in New Orleans, in this climate, not to let moss grow on you; though it wasn '
t just the humidity that might do you in. She said she had no idea what her mother thought about; maybe she '
d ask her sometime, approach her as a corporal work of mercy. She said for some reason she was beginning to understand her father more and see him for the first time as a man and not simply as her dad.

They stood in the main hall, in the doorway of the dark formal living room.

I began to realize I don
'
t know much at all about men. I
'
ve never imagined being one.

I
'
ve never imagined being a girl,
Jack said. He paused a moment and said, No, I don '
t think it '
s possible.

You don
'
t seem aware of yourself.

Well, I catch myself posing every once in a while.

You
'
re aware of it when you
'
re not being yourself.

I
'
m not sure what we
'
re talking about.

The only men I knew, until I went away, were the boys I knew and some of their fathers. All the boys drank a lot and had a sense of tragedy about them that was theatrical, overdone, when I think about it now. I suppose they wanted attention. They didn '
t have anything to be tragic about, so they got drunk and took having a good time very seriously. I didn '
t learn anything from them. I knew boys or fathers, but I didn '
t know men. Do you know what I mean? I didn '
t think of men, other than to lump them all together, until I met you and then began to watch you with Roy and Cullen. I '
ve never been this close to men before, to see them distinctly being men.

You
'
ve been watching me?

Yeah . . . I have. You know a lot of women, don
'
t you? I
'
ll bet you always have. The one you went to talk to in the restaurant . . . That was Helene, wasn '
t it?

How did you know?

You told me she had red hair.

It
'
s different though, than when I used to see her. I mean her hair. It
'
s curly now. She had a perm.

I noticed her when she came in, the way she looked at you . . . You told her about what we
'
re doing, didn '
t you?

I had to tell her something, after she helped us out.

Did you spend the night with her?

He said, As a matter of fact . . .
He said, Yeah, I did. But we didn
'
t do anything.
Jesus Christ. He heard himself and couldn '
t believe it. Making himself sound guilty with all the things he could have said.

Do you trust her?

Yeah, I trust her, sure. I wouldn
'
t have told her.

Did you want her opinion? Was that it?

Well, maybe. I don
'
t know.

Do you want to get out of this? You can. All you have to do is leave. You certainly don
'
t owe me anything.

I
'
m here,
Jack said.

She waited, looking up at him. Are you?

He put his hands on the curve of her shoulders and kissed her, her lips soft and slightly parted.

She said, Are you here?

She waited and he kissed her again because he wanted to, looking at her delicate face, the dark room behind her, and because he didn
'
t know what to say.

She said, What does it mean?

You analyze everything.

Do you want to go to bed with me? Do you want to make love to me?

He said, Wait. Do you mean, have I been thinking about it? Or do you mean, let
'
s go?

Lucy smiled. I always thought you had to be very serious about it. Swept away by desire.

Yeah, you can do that. The whole idea . . . See, you have to like yourself first. If you do, then you
'
re all set. You don '
t have to be serious, it can be a lot of fun.

I
'
ve never made love to anyone.

He said, Is that right?
And wanted to take it back; he shouldn
'
t sound amazed. He said, Well, no, I wouldn '
t think you would '
ve. With your vow of chastity, of course not.

I
'
d never really thought of it much.

No, you were staying pure. . . .
He said, But you
'
ve been thinking about it lately?

The first time,
Lucy said, do you know when it was?

Tell me.

In the bedroom the other night, when I sat on the side of your bed. I thought about it after and wondered if that was why I came to you, because I wanted it to happen.

I thought you just wanted to talk.

I did. But while I was sitting there I was so aware that we were alone in a dark bedroom. I realized, this is what it
'
s like to become intimate. This is the beginning of it and I loved the feeling. I wanted you to touch me, but I was scared to death.

Well, listen . . .

I learned something about myself I never knew before.

Boy, you come out of the nuns you come flying.

She was smiling at him again. She said, I
'
ll never forget you, Jack. You remind me so much of him . . .

He knew who she meant. Not the other day when she said it, but he did now
just looking at her face, her smile, and feeling the goosebumps up the back of his neck.

She said, Before he took all his clothes off and they called him pazzo and threw rocks at him. That Francis of Assisi. I
'
ll bet he was just like you.

Roy called at five to ten. Lucy spoke to him for a minute and then handed the phone to Jack, her eyes wary as she said, He
'
s at the hotel, and continued to watch him as he took the receiver.

Roy?

Listen, I
'
m almost directly across the courtyard from the guy
'
s room. I sit in the dark with the door open a speck I '
m looking at the elevator and can almost see 501. They put their new car in the garage across the street, carried five bank sacks into the room, and they been in there ever since. Little One '
s been going in and out he says they '
ve drunk three bottles of champagne and now they '
re working on cognac and talking about girls. If you could get what '
s her name, Helene, to bring '
em out for two minutes we could have this done.