The Long Good Boy (13 page)

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Authors: Carol Lea Benjamin

BOOK: The Long Good Boy
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“Jesus. Chi Chi. What happened to you?”

No answer.

“Who did that to you?”

“I fell.”

I heard his boots on the floor, her heels scraping as if he was dragging her, maybe to get a better look under the light.

Clint's tail was banging my side. I tugged at the glove to keep him interested.

“Shit. You see a doctor?”

“It's nothing. It looks much worse than it is. Come on, baby. I been missing you so much. You don't even have to pay. You know what I mean? I'm thinking, how many more times you going to see Vinnie before he marry his sweetheart and you never see him again?” Her voice was muffled, as if her mouth was swollen. “No, no, no, I don't want your money, I just want to make you feel goood,” the last word loud and stretched as long as the gay pride parade.

With that, and one powerful push with his hind legs, Clint kicked off my chest and hit the ground running.

They both squealed at the same time.

“Where the hell did he come from?”

The closet was now open nearly a foot instead of two inches, the light from the office pouring into the hallway.

“He was with me all along,” she said. “I put him down to go. Didn't you see him when we was in the courtyard? He must of slipped in with us.” A false laugh. Loud. “You was that busy looking at Chi Chi, thinking of what I'm going to do, real good, the best, and then I'm going to
get out of here
so fast, you'll get all your work done, no problem.”

I heard the office door click shut.

“Why'd you do that?” he asked, his voice muffled now.

“Shut out the world, baby. Who needs it? Oooo, look at that fine, big prick, and you saying you not happy to see Chi Chi.”

I heard a guttural laugh, and then, as fast as Clint, I was out in the hall, tiptoeing across to the stairs, stepping on the outsides of the treads so that they wouldn't creak, racing through the plastic strips and by all that cold pink flesh, past the huge black cat crouched at that trapdoor near the middle of that ice-cold room, his tail swishing, and out the front door, slipping to the side of the courtyard and out onto the street.

16

What Happened in There?

I was feeling almost smug, standing across the street from Keller's, knowing all the papers I needed were waiting for me at home. I hardly noticed the time passing, until the ambient sound on Little West Twelfth Street changed. I heard a bird singing.

The sky was still dark, but no longer inky. It was more of a blue gray now. I looked west, out at the river, but that wasn't going to help. The sun hadn't risen in the west as far as I could remember. I must have been more tired than I realized, or now that I was safely out of the building, the adrenaline no longer pumping triple time, I was due for a crash.

Two birds now. A pair. I looked toward the old chicken market to see if they were in the tree I'd climbed, but these were city birds. They didn't need a tree. They might have been on the sidewalk bridge, or on a tiny lip over a doorway. They might have been on a windowsill, the very one I'd slipped through so gracefully, surprising the hell out of Chi Chi's dog.

I heard a truck, the meat market coming to life. So where the hell was Chi Chi?

I looked at my watch, forgetting it was broken. But I didn't need it to tell me it was too late for Chi Chi to be at Keller's. What the hell was going on?

And then a car turned the corner, a tan Toyota. Whoever was driving pulled into the parking area at Jeffrey's Poultry Market, cut the engine, and sat behind the wheel for another minute, just waiting. He was taking something out of the glove compartment. Or putting something into it. I saw the tiny flame of a match. Then the door opened, and a foot came out, clad in steel-toed work boots.

He locked the car door and walked quickly toward the street. I turned my back, the way I'd seen so many hookers do, like children closing their eyes so the boogey man wouldn't see them. I expected a hand on my shoulder, a voice behind my back, but neither happened—something worse did. I waited, counting to twenty, then turned in time to see the door of Keller's closing behind him.

The next ten minutes seemed like hours, waiting to see if Chi Chi would come out the door, or out the window. Or if she'd show up at all.

Another ten passed. I was about to head for Washington Street, see if I could find LaDonna and Jasmine, when the door opened and Chi Chi slipped out into the courtyard and, bare legs moving, made her way out to the street, then across to where I was standing.

“What happened in there?”

“What you
think
happened in there?”

“I don't mean that. What kept you so long?”

“Wasn't longer than usual,” she said, her eyes on nothing in particular. “He come in early, the manager. He surprise Vinnie.”

“McCoy? You mean he walked in on you?”

She shook her head. “Clint heard him and began to growl. I could feel it against my chest.”

“He's in your jacket when you—”

That just got me a dirty look.

“How'd you get out? Where'd you hide?”

“Bathroom. All three of us. Then Vinnie went into the office and closed the door, the way I done.”

I nodded.

“That ever happen before?”

She shrugged.

“That ever happen, you think, when Rosalinda was there?”

Chi Chi ignored me. Whatever happened, she was used to it. If she'd been in danger, it was just part of her life, nothing worth talking about. Chi Chi, in fact, had other things on her mind. The left side of her mouth was cut and bruised, a tooth missing, maybe two. It was too dark to tell. One eye was swollen half shut, and her wrist was wrapped with an Ace bandage. God only knows how many bruises there were that I couldn't see.

“I thought you couldn't work. I was told you were messed up real bad, in pain. You are, aren't you? You look like hell,” I told her. What was I thinking, that she didn't know? That she hadn't looked into the mirror a hundred times by now, cried over what she saw, over what she felt?

“You don't look so hot yourself.” Hands on hips now. Head high.

“How'd you know I'd be here?”

Again, Chi Chi didn't answer me.

“Well, I'm glad you came,” I said. “If you hadn't, he might have seen me. Vinnie. I wasn't sure how I was going to get out of the closet and down the stairs with the office door open and a chance of the compressor going off just when I needed cover. I was hoping he'd go to the john, but then I thought, Schmuck, no one's here, not that he knows of. He's not going to close that door either. So it's a damn good thing you came for Clint.”

Chi Chi looked stung. She dug her hand into her jacket pocket, winced, fished around, and came out with a folded tissue. Then she opened it carefully and held it out for me to inspect. It was a brad.

I reached for her arm, but she pulled away.

“Is it jus' me,” she asked, “or don't you trust nobody?” When I opened my mouth to answer her, she put her hands over her ears. “Don't tell me,” she said. “I don't want to know. I'm already hurting enough. Anyways, whatever you tell me, it's going to be a lie, so save your breath.” She lifted Clint's face and bent toward him. I thought she was going to kiss him, let me know she knew who her real friends were, but she didn't. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Then she looked at me again, nodding. “He did it,” she said.

“Devon?”

She waved her good hand at me. “Clint. He did it. He got you in there.”

“Chi Chi, I'm sorry.”

“I tol' you I'd help you out.”

“You did.”

“But you didn't believe in me.”

“I heard you were hurt. I didn't think you'd be able—”

She looked away for a moment, toward the river, the water still dark as death.

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “You wouldn't be the first one. But you had faith in him.”

I nodded.

“And he did it, right? He came through for you.”

I nodded. “He was unbelievable. I wish you could have seen him. I taught him at least a dozen separate tasks and strung them all together. After Jasmine and LaDonna came to tell me you needed him back, I telescoped everything into one work session, last night, and we only had time for one complete run-through.”

Her eyes rolled up, and the sweat was pouring down the side of her face.

“Let's get you something to eat.”

“Can't.” She pointed to her mouth. This time I winced, at the thought of what she'd just done to help me.

“Come on.” I took her by her good arm and headed for Washington Street.

She shook her head.

“Be real danger there.”

I looked around. “What?”

“I be seen with you, someone tell Devon, he kill me this time. Devon, he see us hisself, we both dead.” She started walking the other way, toward the river. “Hurry up,” she said. “You dragging your feet.”

I don't know who started it, but the two of us were running, Chi Chi in bare legs and platform stilettos, the dog bouncing around in her jacket, the wind whipping at our faces, sharp and cold, the market opening slowly behind us, like a bear waking up from hibernation.

When we got to West and Jane, the side of the Riverview Hotel, we slowed down.

“He didn't give me nothin'.”

“Who? Vinnie?”

She nodded.

“He didn't pay you? But you told him he didn't have to. I heard you.”

Chi Chi looked at me, then looked away. “You get the stuff you was after?”

“It's all home. I don't really know yet.”

“What you mean, it's all home?”

“I faxed it. I couldn't just steal it, could I?”

“Not someone like you, someone with high moral principles, no way. You could break in, but you can't steal. You telling me you didn't even snag a roast on your way out?”

“Look, I don't have time for this.”

Chi Chi sighed. “That's what they all say eventually. Sometimes they say it you ask if they want to party. Sometimes they say it after, you asking for your money. One day, Devon say it. That'll be the last day of my life.”

“No,” I said. “We're going to get the money for him. You'll be fine.” Rachel, the enabler.

“What you mean? Where we goin'?”

“My house.”

Chi Chi stopped walking. I'd never seen anyone look quite so scared. She began to shake her head.

“It's okay,” I told her. “Come on. I'm going to make you something in the blender. You like chocolate?”

She shook her head again.

What was wrong with me, thinking a shake would fix her up when what she needed was crack?

“Okay, okay. We'll just get Clint's coat.”

“Don't want that coat no more.”

“That's fine. I'll hold it for you, in case you change your mind. I'll just give you the money, from the pocket.”

She was shaking badly, trying to nod, her teeth, or what was left of them, chattering.

“I give him the money, he know I seen you. I don't give him the money, maybe he finish what he started.”

I stopped and took her by the arms, careful of her bandaged wrist.

“What should we do?” I said.

Her head was down, her knees bent. She looked like a rag doll, being held up by God knows what.

“I tell him all the money is from tonight. I say I had a great night. Do you think that might work?”

“I do,” I said.

“I tell him, See, you didn't hurt Chi Chi so bad. I always tell him that. He don't mean nothin' by it, Rachel. It's just his way. He say if he don't remind us girls to be respectful, some of us will walk all over him. He says he don't put his foot down, there be chaos.”

I nodded, as if I understood.

“I tell him, Chi Chi know you love her.” Then to me: “Chi Chi know that. Devon take care of me. Without Devon, don't know what would happen to me. That's why I goes out and does my job, show him some respect.” Now she was nodding. She reached into her top and pulled out a twenty, held it up for me to inspect, in case I wasn't clear on how you show respect to a pimp, in case her message had been lost on me. That's when I noticed she was crying.

I put my arm around her shoulder and we began to walk again. “You going to be okay?”

“I catch up with one of the other girls. Someone bound to have something for me.”

“Can you eat anything at all?”

She shook her head. “I can't eat when I'm nervous,” she said. And then she saw where we were and froze.

“Why we here? You said you was going to give me my money, and you bring me to the police? You tricked me.”

“No, Chi Chi, I live here, behind that gate.”

But she was looking the other way, at the Sixth Precinct across the street, a place she must have been too many times already, a place she didn't want to go again.

“I can't go in.”

“We're not going there, we're going here.”

But she turned away, facing the brick wall to the right of the gate, and there was no moving her.

“Okay. Don't move. Wait here. I'll be back in a minute with your money.” And then I was running again, through the tunnel, into the garden, opening the door, greeting Dashiell without really stopping, not stopping until I'd grabbed Clint's red coat from the arm of the sofa. How could I have missed the bulge? Or had I thought it was a bunch of pickup bags, a totally stoned hooker was prepared to scoop, any time of the day or night?

Standing there for a moment, Chi Chi's money in my hand, crumpled tens and twenties, I wondered what I was doing on this case, and what would happen to me, to all of us, by the time it was over.

17

More Than I Need to Know, I Told Her

After giving Chi Chi the money and watching her pick her way down the block, as if she were walking through a pit of vipers, I took Dashiell around the block, fed him, and then, not bothering to eat or even look at the papers I'd faxed home, lay down across my bed, fully dressed. I remember thinking I'd rest a minute before reading the files I'd stolen from Keller's. Instead, I fell into a deep sleep.

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