It’s early, just barely
light, and driving to work I get the feeling again, a car hanging right in my
blind spot. I whip around but the street is empty as far back as I can see.
That’s always how it happens. Things go bad sometimes.
A few minutes later the
feeling comes again, and I check my mirrors, catch a glimpse of a dented grill.
I’ve never gotten a good look at the car so I’m not sure how I know it’s a blue
convertible. I’ve never seen the driver, no idea who he is, but he’s been
showing up more and more often, cutting it closer and closer. I whip around
again and the street is still empty and you don’t have to tell me how weird
this is. I know how weird it is.
I get to the warehouse,
shut off the engine and just sit quiet until Goat pulls up alongside. Yesterday
Old Red sent Goat and me to the docks to see about a crate. It went a little
rough, and Goat got his arm broken, and now he’s wearing one of those
fiberglass casts, only this one’s bright orange, so I hassle him a bit.
We go inside and say hi to Vid and
Marty. Nobody wants poker or rummy this early so we just sit there and smoke.
Something’s happening, no question, but we never get told until it’s time to
go, and for the moment we’re twitchy like spiders.
We watch seagulls for a while. We
watch tugs and scows. We tell stories and ask each other what about lunch, and
then Old Red comes out of the office, waves me and Vid to the Cutlass, tells me
to drive.
- I got a thing in my eye, I say.
- What kind of thing? says Vid.
- I don’t know, maybe some sawdust.
- You got a hankie, so use it, says
Old Red.
- Vid knows how to drive too, I say.
- If I wanted Vid to drive, I’d have
told him to drive.
I take out my hankie and pretend for
a second, get in and start the engine, and we’re not ten minutes out when that
fucker in the blue convertible slides into my blind spot again.
- Take a right at the light, says
Old Red.
I nod, signal, catch a glint off the
convertible’s windshield, look back at the empty lane, look again fast and
there’s still nothing there. I ease over, make the turn and speed up.
- Since when do you drive like a
hundred years old? says Vid.
- Leave him alone, says Old Red.
So he knows something’s wrong, which
isn’t what either of us needs. Old Red always has things on his mind but lately
it’s been worse. He points us down to a Chinese restaurant with dirty windows
and peeling paint. In the back there’s fifty or sixty small boxes wrapped
tight. Then there’s some kind of problem, and before things get cleared up I
take a shot to the nose, gives me a real gusher, but it’s mostly stopped by the
time we get back to the warehouse.
- Nobody teach you to duck? says
Goat.
I look at him and he goes back to
watching seagulls until Old Red comes and tells us to unload. He leaves with
Marty and Vid, and it takes Goat and me almost an hour to put all the boxes
away.
