Bandits (1987) (31 page)

Of the Stigmata,
Jack said.

She seemed to smile, remembering. When I was nineteen I
'
d say the word stigmata, whisper it, and get the chills and thrills.
Looking at him, but within herself too.

She said she used to pray for a vision, an honest-to-God mystical experience, and believed, when she was nineteen, it would happen unexpectedly but soon. She said she had never told anyone before, that she used to concentrate, imagine herself weightless and then slowly raise her arms and go up on her toes trying to levitate like Saint Francis and be suspended by divine love. She said she would try to imagine what an ecstatic experience would be like and would think, if it isn '
t in the mind then it must be experienced through the senses, the body. Then she would wonder, if it '
s physical, would it be anything like physical love, making love to a man? The way she was looking at him now he knew what she was going to say. But I don '
t know what that '
s like. It '
s something I have to find out.

Quietly telling him this in a room in the St. Louis Hotel at one-thirty in the morning, her eyes on him, waiting.

He said, Lucy . . .

He got up and stood looking down at her, it seemed like a long time before he offered his hands and brought her from the chair into his arms with a tender feeling, a good feeling. He said, I '
ll hold you. Let me just hold you.

Close to him she said, Can we lie down?

Chapter
25

ROY WAS ASLEEP in the back seat of Lucy
'
s Mercedes, in the underground garage of the Royal Sonesta Hotel. He came wide awake and asked what time it was as Jack opened the door and slipped into the front seat.

Quarter to eight. Where
'
s their car?

Up past the second post and about six in. You can just see it. I moved this one,
Roy said, so we
'
ll be pointing the right way. What '
re the banana pickers doing?

Nothing, yet.

The broads stay all night?

No, they left. You could hear
'
em.

Jesus, quarter of eight already. Fucking stakeout, I never thought I
'
d be doing it again.

You were sound asleep. It must not
'
ve been too bad.

What would you know about it? Nothing.

Where
'
s Cullen?

Beats the shit out of me. I went up to Darla
'
s hootch and banged on the door. No answer. He either had a heart attack in the saddle and she had to take him to Charity, or he pulled out.

He doesn
'
t have anyplace to go.

He
'
s a grown boy,
Roy said. He
'
s dumb as a fucking stump, but he '
s still a grown boy. I took him to meet Darla, I said, '
yHere you go, sweetie, see if you can fuck the old man '
s socks off.
'
She says, '
yYou don '
t have to use that kind of language.
'
I said, '
yYes, I do, '
cause you don '
t know shit.
'
How '
bout yourself? You and the sister have a nice time up there, Jesus Christ, while I '
m down in the garage? Where is she?

Getting coffee.

Well, I hope to Christ she brings me some.

That
'
s what she
'
s doing, getting us coffee.

You go over and listen at their door?

Since five this morning. They
'
re sleeping in.

I can believe it.

The banana boat leaves sometime this morning,
Jack said. Even if they
'
re not gonna be on it they have to make a move pretty soon, for show.

Roy was looking past Jack toward the Bienville Street exit, a square of sunlight against the ground floor of the St. Louis Hotel, across the street. A parking attendant sat on a high stool to one side of the garage opening. I think they already have the cash, Roy said, and I think we should do it here. Hitting '
em out on the highway somewhere is a bunch of shit and you know it.

You get the masks.

Fuck the masks.

That means you forgot.

I
'
m not gonna wear a fucking mask. If I don
'
t do it for Carnival I '
m not gonna get one for this. The guy doesn '
t know who I am. Tie a hanky around your face if you want and we '
ll keep Lucy in the car. She isn '
t gonna do us any good anyway. This '
s the place, shit, right here. I think they stashed it in their car. I had a tire iron we could find out in two minutes.

Nobody
'
d be that dumb, leave it in the car.

Nobody
'
d think they
'
re that dumb. That '
s why it could be there.

You look in the windows?

Yes, I did, Delaney. But I didn
'
t look in the fucking trunk,
'
cause the fucking trunk doesn '
t have a window.

I
'
m glad you had a good night
'
s sleep.

They don
'
t have it in there, fuck it. I
'
m going home and go to bed. Cullen might be smarter '
n I thought. . . . Here she comes. I hope she brought us some brioche.

Jack said, Look who
'
s behind her.

Franklin de Dios was coming from sunlight into shade, down the ramp to the floor of the garage, as Lucy approached the car with two white take-out sacks, intent, hurrying. Reaching them, handing the sacks through the window, she said, Franklin just came out of the hotel.

He
'
s right there,
Jack said. Now he
'
s gone.

He went down that first aisle. Watch,
Roy said, hunched over close to Jack in the front seat. He drives off, you better be with him. Where '
s your car?

Jack had to think. It
'
s in that same aisle.

You hear that?
Roy said, He
'
s starting a car.
Now Lucy was getting in and Roy straightened, raising up. Just wait, will you, for Christ sake? Jack . . . There it is, it '
s the Chrysler. Isn '
t that the Chrysler? Jack, you gonna sit there or get on it?

By the time he was out on Bienville, edging the Scirocco past trucks unloading and parked cars the black Chrysler was gone, somewhere up the one-way street, out of sight till Jack caught a glimpse of it turning left on Rampart and that surprised him. Where was Franklin going? Rampart turned into Tulane Avenue and Tulane became the Airline Highway and that would seem to answer the question. Franklin was going out to the airport, in Kenner. Yes, indeed, it looked as if Franklin was taking last night '
s advice and leaving town. If he '
d rather fly than go by banana boat, that was okay. He probably had to stop off in Miami first, pick up his clothes and stuff.

Jack began to notice what a beautiful day it was: clear sky, not too humid. He pulled the Beretta out of his waist, digging into his groin, and slipped it under the seat. He might very well be driving this way again sometime in the afternoon, with a suitcase full of cash, following a week of activity that was certainly different. Man, each day something new and different. Having met some very unusual people. Having slept with two different young ladies, actually slept. . . . It was the tender feeling that messed him up with Lucy. He could see them taking their clothes off and still feel some tenderness. But when he tried to see himself lying between her legs he knew he couldn '
t do it, it would become something else and the tender feeling would be gone. He '
d be performing and watching the performance, aware of her, yeah, seeing her, kissing her, but more aware of himself doing it, just doing it to her, and that wasn '
t what they were to each other. . . . He held her and listened to her breathing as she slept. The tender feeling was enough. She seemed strange because there was nothing put on about her; she was like a child in that way and knew more than he did; she knew how to walk into her dreams. He could talk to her but had to listen closely and think. Helene, when he talked to Helene things he said just came out. He could act foolish with her. He could act foolish making love to her. Or give her a certain look and she was with it. He had a feeling Lucy and Helene would like each other. Yes, indeed, and had a pretty good feeling in general, tailing the black Chrysler following signs to the airport and as far as the National car-return lot. Jack parked at the side of the road and watched Franklin come out of the Chrysler.

The guy had only a small flight bag.

Jack thought about getting out of the car, yell at him and wave good-bye. Do it quick, before the guy walked over to the shuttle bus. Or he could drive Franklin to the terminal, wish him a safe trip even though he '
d already done that. He thought, No, leave him alone.

And then thought, What
'
s he doing?

Because Franklin was coming out of the car-return lot this way: Franklin in his black suit carrying his tan flight bag coming out to the road, up to the car, hunching over to look in the window with his pointy cheekbones and nappy hair, Jesus Christ, grinning.

How you doing? You going back now?

Jack had to nod.

I wonder if you can give me a ride.

I don
'
t know if the boat goes to Honduras or to Costa Rica,
Franklin said. I didn '
t hear that from Wally Scales or from that other guy. What '
s his name? Lives there in the city where the boat is.

Alvin Cromwell?

Yes, of course you know it. Yes, Alvin. It could go to Costa Rica. Our leader is there, Brooklyn Rivera. I like to see him, but I rather go to Honduras right away.

Why is that, Franklin?

So I can go back into Nicaragua with some friends of mine and visit people we know there.

Go for a visit, huh?

They live in a concentration camp in the province of Jinotega, a place call Kusu de Bocay.

Jinotega . . .

Maybe we can take them out of there. Help them have new homes and plenty rice and beans to eat.

They were on the Airline Highway heading back to New Orleans. Jack said, You know the woman at Carville, who was in the coach with me? Her name '
s Lucy Nichols.

Yes, I hear Colonel Godoy say that name.

She worked in a hospital for lepers near Jinotega, the city.

The city of Jinotega, I think it
'
s far from Kusu de Bocay.

The colonel came to the hospital and killed the lepers and burned it down.

I believe it.

Lucy wants to build the hospital again.

Yes, that
'
s good.

She
'
s a good woman.

Franklin didn
'
t say anything and they drove in silence for a mile or so, Jack thinking.

Yeah, I was pretty sure you were taking a flight. But you just went out to return the car, huh?

They call me, say to take it back. It
'
s okay, I have time.

But now you have to get to Gulfport.

Franklin didn
'
t say anything and Jack thought of his meeting with Wally Scales, keeping his mouth shut if the guy didn '
t ask a direct question.

You know how you
'
re gonna get there?

Yes, I know.

Man, it was work. You gonna take a bus?

No, not take a bus.

But you are gonna get on the boat.

Yes, of course. Go home.

But Colonel Godoy and Crispin, you
'
re convinced now, they
'
re not gonna get on the boat.

Yes, I know that. What you told me and what Wally Scales told me.

Jack had to think. If he was supposed to know so much he had to be careful what he asked. They came to Tulane Avenue and followed it into Rampart.

Well, I
'
m glad this
'
s working out for you, Franklin.

Yes, I think so.

Yeah, I thought you
'
d be gone.

Pretty soon.

I followed you out to the airport.

Yes, I know. It was kind of you.

Yeah, I wanted to say good-bye. Maybe have a cup of coffee. Hey, after all that vodka we had last night, you feel okay?

Yes, fine.

Jack turned off Rampart onto Conti, one-way into the Quarter toward the river.

We
'
re almost back. Where can I drop you off?

Anyplace you want. I have to go back to that hotel.

Oh, shit. Jack took a moment. I
'
m not sure that
'
s a good idea, Franklin.
Then began to think that it might, in fact, be a wonderful idea. Why do you want to see them again?

I have to tell them I quit and say good-bye.

You
'
re not gonna say anything about your going on the boat. I wouldn
'
t mention that.

No, tell them I quit and say good-bye.

They might be asleep.

No, they call me. Crispin.

He stayed there all night,
Jack said. They had some women stop in for a party.

Oh, you know that?

Hey, Franklin, I even know what they haven
'
t done yet, right?
Franklin was looking at him, grinning. He had a gold tooth. I told you about it as a special favor, even though I shouldn '
t have. But that '
s okay, we '
re friends, right?