Authors: John Rector
“This place fits me.”
Marcus waved me off and turned away.
I watched him move in short steps back to the front of the diner.
It was the first time he looked his age, but more than that, it was the first time I’d seen him look broken.
~
Rita had one of the firemen cornered and was telling him her theory about the rooming house.
I could tell nothing was getting through, so I joined in.
“Any idea how it started?”
I asked.
The fireman looked up at me.
“You are?”
“I’m the chef.”
He looked over my shoulder at what was left of the diner and smiled.
“The chef?”
Even on its best days the diner wasn’t much to look at, so I was used to that look.
“You ever eat here?”
“Afraid not.”
“You missed out.”
The fireman frowned.
I smiled.
“Who’s your boss?”
“What?”
I repeated myself.
“I want to talk to someone who can tell me what happened.”
“I can tell you that.”
He took off his helmet and adjusted the strap as he spoke.
“Someone planted an incendiary device in the alley.
There was a timer, but it must not have worked right.
Instead of exploding, it caught fire.
You’re lucky to have this much left.
If it would’ve gone off like it was supposed to, it would’ve taken the whole building.”
~
I headed down the street to use the payphone outside Miller’s Drug store.
I wanted to call Ava and let her know I was going to be late.
If Lewis had seen someone, I wanted to talk to him before he picked up that day’s bottle.
I looked at my watch.
It was almost eleven.
It would be close.
I’d just reached the phone when I saw Lewis come out of the drug store with a brown bag under his arm.
The phone call would have to wait.
“The guy’s name was Charley Taylor,” Lewis said as I walked with him back to the rooming house.
“I remember him because he was always late with his rent.
Also, his mother used to come by almost every day.
Man, you should’ve heard those fights.
She would start in on him about how he dressed or the mess he made in his room.
She was right about his room, too.
Guy was filthy.
Still, to have a mother like that…
Almost felt bad for the guy.”
“But you didn’t?”
Lewis took the bag from under his arm and twisted off the cap.
“Like I said, he was always late with his rent.”
He took a drink and held it out for me.
I shook my head.
“He moved out a couple weeks later.”
“Did he leave a forwarding address?”
Lewis smiled.
“Are you kidding?
No one leaves a forwarding address.”
He paused then said, “But I probably have his mother’s address.
After he left, she sent me a check for his back rent.
I keep all the canceled checks around for taxes.”
When we got back to the rooming house, Lewis disappeared into the office.
I called Ava from the front desk and told her I was going to be late.
She started to complain, but when I told her why she understood.
“Did you call the cops?” she asked.
“Lewis is looking for an address,” I said.
“I don’t think they’ll do anything without something to go on.”
“Be careful.”
Lewis came out of the office.
He smiled and waved a check in the air by his head.
“I’m always careful,” I said before I hung up.
The address on the check was in Five Points.
I picked up the phone.
“You know the number for the cops?”
Lewis smiled.
He knew it by heart.
~
I called the police station and asked for Sergeant Greg Nash.
He wasn’t there, so I talked to another cop who told me to come in and fill out a report.
I asked when Sergeant Nash would be back.
“He’ll tell you the same thing,” the cop said.
“No, he’ll actually be helpful.”
The cop was silent for a moment then said, “Suit yourself, asshole.”
And hung up.
~
Marcus let me borrow his car, and I used it to drive into Five Points.
At one time or another, most neighborhoods were good neighborhoods.
They could boast safe parks, nice lawns, and clean streets.
Five Points was never one of those neighborhoods.
I found the address that was printed on the check.
Vanessa Taylor lived on the third floor of an apartment complex that looked more like a prison than a prison.
Thanks to my father, I’d seen enough of them over the years to know.
I parked the car and got out.
Marcus kept a .44 under the driver’s seat.
I hesitated, but decided to leave it where it was.
I didn’t think I’d need it, but I was happy to have the option just the same.
When I got to the front door, I looked on the mailbox for a Taylor.
The check said she lived in 302, but all the tabs were missing so I couldn’t verify.
I buzzed 302 and waited.
After a long pause, the speaker clicked and a man’s voice came on.
“I’m looking for Vanessa Taylor,” I said.
“Is this—” The door buzzed before I finished.
I barely caught it before it stopped.
The smell inside the building was strong, a mixture of natural gas, cooked meat, and urine.
It reminded me of places I’d lived before I met Ava, before things changed for me.
I wasn’t nostalgic.
There was an elevator at the end of the hall, but I held off for the stairs.
I’d made it up the first two flights before I realized they were carpeted.
The middle had been worn away to fiber, but you could still see the tiny gold flower design along the edges.
When I got to the top of the stairs I heard a voice to my left.
“Down here.”
I looked and saw a shrunken old man leaning out of a doorway.
He was thin beyond life and wore a bright orange shirt.
The combination made him look like an unlucky hunter.
When I got close, he squinted at me.
“You from the Pizza Hut?”
I told him I wasn’t.
“God damn speaker doesn’t work.
Can’t hear a God damn thing.”
He went to close the door and I got my foot in before he could.
“If you ain’t got my pizza, then I don’t have any use for you, boy.”
“I’m looking for Vanessa Taylor.
Does she still live here?”
He eyed me for a moment, nodded, then turned from the door and shuffled back into the apartment, waving over his shoulder for me to follow.
“Hey, Nessie?”
I heard a woman’s voice from one of the back rooms.
“Some kid out here to see you.”
The woman that came out wasn’t what I’d expected.
From Lewis’s description I thought she’s be older, fatter, and come complete with a beehive hairdo.
Instead, what I saw was a woman in her mid-40’s dressed in jeans and t-shirt.
Vanessa Taylor might not have been beautiful, but when she smiled at me it was hard to be sure.
“Do I know you?”
She had a white dish towel and was using it to polish a round glass snow globe.
“Are you here about the car?”
“Actually, I’m looking for Charley.”
The smile disappeared.
The transformation was almost frightening.
Vanessa Taylor was definitely not a beautiful woman.
“Who the hell are you?”
I told her.
“That doesn’t mean fuck all to me.”
“No reason why it should.
Do you know where I find him?”
“You a cop?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not telling you shit.”
I shrugged.
“It’s up to you, but Charley knows someone who tried to burn down a Diner on Capitol Hill this morning.
I’m trying to find the guy he was with, but if you’d rather talk to the cops I can make them my next stop.
They can ask you where he’s at.”
“Charley didn’t burn down no Diner,” Vanessa said.
“He’s been sick.”
“Someone saw them together,” I said.
“Who?”
The old man came back in.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Vanessa pointed at me with the snow globe.
The movement was so quick that at first I thought she was going to throw it at me.
It took all I had not to flinch.
“This one says Charlie tried to burn down a restaurant.”
The old man looked at me, then at the floor.
“He was always a bad kid.
I’m not surprised.”
“Shut the hell up.
Charley is a good kid.
How the hell do you know anyway?
When was the last time you talked to him?
When was the last time—”
“Hey.”
I held up my hand.
“Just tell me where I can find him.
I just want to know who he was with.”
“I’m not telling you shit,” Vanessa said, then pointed over my shoulder toward the door.
“Get the hell out of here.”
The old man, still shaking his head, walked past me and opened the door.
“Better go, boy.
Talk of Charley brings out the worst in her.”
Vanessa turned and disappeared down the hallway.
I headed for the door.
As I passed the old man he said, “He really is a fucked up kid.
I hope he’s not in trouble.”