A Tree Born Crooked (9 page)

“Now, come on, Marlena. I said he didn’t mean nothing by it.”

Rabbit called after her, but she ignored him, letting the bar door slam behind her. James didn’t know if he should punch Rabbit, or Delmore, or himself. Rabbit turned back to James.

“Yep, she’s a firecracker alright. Didn’t I say you’d find her here? Thought you two might hit it off.”

“Shut up, Rabbit.”

“Okay.”

“And when you’re done shutting up, why don’t you think a minute, and then tell me what the hell you want.”

~ ~ ~

“That’s what you wanted? Are you kidding me?”

They were sitting in Delmore’s Silverado extended cab, parked next to an all-night Wash ’n Fold. Rabbit had refused to talk to James unless they got in the truck and went for a drive. Against his better judgment, James had climbed into the back seat. He knew that Rabbit was still wounded by his demand to be taken home the night before.
 

After Rabbit had dropped him off at The Blue Diamond, he had gone back to the motel and lain in bed half the night, grinding his teeth, unable to sleep. When he woke up in the morning, the sheets were twisted around him so tightly that he panicked until he remembered where he was. He had stuffed his clothes into his army surplus duffle bag before going to bed, and as he brushed his teeth he stared at it, leaning up against the motel door, all ready to go.
 

But instead of being on the road, headed for nowhere, James had found himself squatting in the overgrown grass next to a recently covered grave and a marker that looked like it was fresh off the discount rack. The inscription read only, “Orville Hart 1953-2010.” James knew Orville would have been disappointed. He had said many times that when he finally kicked it for good, he wanted lines from some poem engraved on his tombstone. Something about a yellow wood and two roads. Something about choosing which one. James wished he could remember. Orville used to recite the whole poem, standing out in the middle of the yard, drunkenly belting out the words. He had always thought Orville was a lunatic on nights like that. He wouldn’t come in, no matter how many times Birdie Mae yelled at him from the trailer door, but just stood out in the dewy grass, a bottle of Old Grand-Dad swinging in one hand. There were many poems. About roses, about women walking in beauty like the night, about a wheelbarrow sitting out in the rain. James could never figure out how Orville came to know so much poetry. When he was sober, Orville would just laugh when asked about the poems. He said that he didn’t have time for that kind of willy-nilly nonsense.
 

James would have liked to recall and recite that poem about the two roads, as he stood above his father’s grave, but the words escaped him. Instead, James had reached over and put his hand on the mound of loose dirt. It was warm beneath his palm. He rubbed the grit slowly between his thumb and forefinger, grinding it into his calluses. When he finally stood, he brought his hand to his face and breathed in, hoping for a moment that he would smell something strange. Perhaps Old Spice aftershave, sweat and whiskey, or orange peel. But it was only dirt. James had wiped his hand on his jeans and took the long walk back to his truck in the warm noon sun.
 

“No, James, we ain’t kidding. Really, it’s a beauty. Fool proof. There’s no way you want to miss out on this. Right, Delmore?”

Delmore twisted around in his seat.

“You’d be an idiot not to get in on it. That, or a coward.”

James laughed and looked out the window at the side of the laundromat. The lowering twilight was creating strange shadows of shifting gray against the bricks.
 

“So, let me just make sure I heard you correctly. You’re gonna knock over the same strip club where you’re already selling oxy to the strippers. Who know you. Who are making you money.”

Rabbit nodded eagerly.

“That’s why it’s all so perfect. We already know the ins and outs of the place. We know the boss man, Lyndell. Delmore’s known him for years, since way back. Remember Lyndell Clayborne? Used to drag race out on 231 when we was kids.”

“Can’t recall.”

“Well, see, we know all ‘bout how the operation works, because we’re there, or Delmore’s there, most every night. He knows how the place is shut down and he knows how the alarm is set. It’s genius.”

James rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
 

“Rabbit. Do you know how much money is actually inside the building of a strip club? The money comes in with the guys. It goes out with the girls. And the boss. And whoever else. There’s not some magical vault with a rainbow hanging over a pot of gold. It’s a strip joint, not a casino. I bet you’d make more money selling pills there in a week than you’d make robbing the place.”

“Now, just listen—”

“And did you never stop to think that if you were to pull this off, I’m saying if you were, you two are probably the first people this Lyndell guy is going to come after? For the same reasons you just told me. Come on, Rabbit. You’re being stupid.”

“Just listen a second. You never listen to me.”

James crossed his arms and went back to staring out the window.
 

“Alright, I’m listening. I don’t give a shit about what you have to say, but you want me to listen, I’m listening.”

Rabbit cleared his throat.

“Thank you. First of all, we’re gonna have an airtight alibi. Waylon’s covering for us. The way we’re setting it up, there won’t even be no questions. We’ll have witnesses to where we was at.”

Rabbit licked his lips and counted off on his fingers.
 

“Second. You’re the stupid one for thinking that we was stupid in the first place.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“We’re not there to rob the till. It’s something much, much bigger. Tell him, Delmore.”

Delmore only grunted. He obviously did not care if James knew or not.

“You tell him. He’s your brother.”

Rabbit ignored the flat tone of his voice. He was too excited to notice Delmore’s lack of enthusiasm. Rabbit’s eyes were shining and his face was flushed as he continued.

“Okay, we know that Lyndell washes a lot of money in and out of Lucky’s, right? But like you said, there’s never really a whole lot just sitting ‘round. But Delmore here, he overheard Lyndell talking to his boss on the phone.”

Rabbit paused to see if he had James’ attention. James was looking at him now, dumbstruck. Rabbit kept going.
 

“He heard that this big boss man, what’s his name, Delmore?”

Delmore answered, but didn’t bother to take his eyes off the two teenage girls he was watching through the windshield. They had started to cross the street next to the laundromat, but one had stopped and bent over to pick something up.
 

“Sully Granger.”

“Yeah, this guy Sully’s doing a big drop. Big. Like a hundred thousand dollars big.”

James started to sigh loudly, but Rabbit stopped him.

“No wait, seriously. Delmore heard it all. So this money is just gonna be sitting there, hanging out to dry tonight, so to speak. Tonight! Just waiting for us to come along and find it a new home. You get it? You see how easy this is gonna be? A hundred thousand, James. You gotta be in on this with us.”

James was quiet for a moment. That look on Rabbit’s face. The one that made James feel like someone had taken a mallet and hit him in the stomach with it. This was Rabbit’s big score. He wanted so badly to impress his older brother, to prove that by staying behind in Crystal Springs he had made something out of himself. He was doing something that James could be envious of, but mostly, that he could be proud of. James knew that if he declined, he would be letting Rabbit down once again.
 

“You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

Rabbit grinned and rubbed the back of his head.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but whatever works. So are you in, James?”

“No.”

It was as if a tidal wave had risen and crashed into Rabbit’s heart. And James knew it. Rabbit blinked a few times, looked away, then back at James, then away again.
 

“You sure?”

James’ voice softened. No more sarcasm. No more insults. He had nothing else to offer Rabbit but sincerity.
 

“I’m sure.”

Rabbit twisted back in his seat and kept his head facing forward, his eyes now focused intently through the windshield on something only he could see. His voice cracked.
 

“Well, alright then. Delmore, let’s take him back.”

FIVE

James watched the fan blades wobble above him. Something was off balance and it made a buzzing sound around every loop. The muted television flashed bursts of light onto the ceiling and brought the fan blades in and out of the darkness. He couldn’t see it now, but James knew that there was a brown water stain in the shape of California right above his head and that a long, thin crack, branching out into many plaster tributaries, edged its way out from the ceiling corner opposite the bed. He also knew that there was a small hole punched on the outside of the particleboard bathroom door that matched perfectly to the motel room doorknob. He knew that there was a slit in the bottom edge of the screen in the only window, that there were three cigarette burns on the carpet next to the nightstand, and that the framed painting of a bird dog with a pheasant in its mouth, hanging slightly crooked above the television set, was painted by someone named R. Warren. James had spent many, many hours staring around the room, trying to find answers in the smoke-stained walls and cracked ceiling.
 

He had come up with nothing. James wasn’t even sure what his questions were. Did he need to know if he should stay in Crystal Springs? Did he need to know if he should pick up his cell phone and call Rabbit? Should he argue with him again about the insanity of his plan? Did he care enough about Rabbit to show that he cared? The questions had only bred more questions, and every time James pushed himself up off the bed, it was to change the channel on the ancient TV, not to make a phone call. Every time he got as far as the door, he left it only to stand in the outdoor hallway and smoke a cigarette, listening to the drip of condensation from the back of the ice machine. He didn’t look out in the parking lot at his truck. He didn’t look at his cell phone, sitting on top of a crumpled washcloth next to the bathroom sink. He looked at the carpet, the ceiling, the walls. He turned off the lights. He watched the fan spin slowly above him in the shimmer of the television. He kept his eyes open.
 

The red numbers on the clock radio beside the bed glowed 4:23 a.m. when the call came. James wasn’t startled; he had been drifting in and out of sleep and the ringing of his cell phone caught him already half awake. He rolled over and sat up in bed, but let it ring. Five times, then silence. He waited for the beep that signaled a voicemail message, but it never came. Instead, his phone began ringing again. As before, he listened to it, but still didn’t move. He sat motionless, his hands resting on his knees, his body bent forward, an ache of filial loyalty and a desperate desire for autonomy straining against one another in his heart. Then, silence, and then more silence. James’ pulse was racing in his veins and his head suddenly got light as sensory memories flashed inside of him. This was the same hot, tingling, floating feeling he had felt the first time the ground separated from the wheels beneath him in an Aermacchi trainer plane. The same feeling he had when he had sped along back roads, being chased by the cops for drag racing in the middle of the night. The same as when he had walked in on someone he thought he loved in bed with someone he thought was a friend. James held his breath and waited.

He snatched it up on the second ring. He didn’t say hello and didn’t have to.

“Christ, James. Don’t you ever answer your goddamn phone?”

Rabbit sounded either high or terrified. It took James a split second to decide that he was both.
 

“It’s four in the morning.”

He didn’t want Rabbit to know that he had already been awake, waiting for this phone call. He didn’t want him to know that he had expected it.
 

“Whatever. James, you there? You still there?”

Rabbit’s voice reached a pitch on the verge of hysteria. James could hear the sound of air rushing through an open window in the background. He tried to make his voice as calm as possible.

“I’m right here. What’s going on?”

“Oh, man. Oh, Jesus, I can’t believe this shit. Why in the hell? What in the hell I ever do for this shit to happen? Oh, man, oh, man, oh, man—”

“Rabbit, hey. Hey! You need to slow down. You need to talk to me. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

He could hear Rabbit moving around, breathing hard, and then a car door slamming.

“I need you to come meet me. Right now. You gotta get over here.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t talk on the phone. James, I just need you to meet me. Please?”

Rabbit could not have sounded more desperate if he had been drowning, reaching out to the devil himself. James shut his eyes. He could see Rabbit’s face in front of him and knew exactly what it looked like at that moment. He also knew that he had made his decision the instant he answered the phone.