My Friend Leonard (17 page)

 

S
pring becomes Summer.

I talk to Lilly. Sometimes I read to her, sometimes I just sit with her.

I go to St. Louis.

Milwaukee.

North side, South side. Northside. Southside.

I go out every night. I go to bars with my friends. I smoke play pool watch my friends get drunk. I stay out late I still can't sleep when the bars close I walk through dark, silent, empty streets. I walk until it starts to become light. I sit by the lake and I watch the sun rise.

I sleep during the day, a few hours a day.

I read, look at art.

I go to Detroit.

Rockford.

Gary, Indiana.

I decide I want to write something. I have no idea what, I don't really care, I just want to try. I buy a computer. I sit down in front of it and stare at the screen. I open a word-processing document and with two fingers I type—What are you staring at dumbass?—over and over and over again.

A woman stops me on the street and she says you won't always feel this way. I ask her what she means and she says I can smell your pain, I can smell it. I'm not sure if she's a genius or a lunatic. I turn and quickly walk away.

I see someone I used to know, someone I haven't seen for a few years. He sees me smiles walks over and says how's your fucking drinking problem, Frey? I say it's good, how's your drinking problem? He says he's broke and unemployed and it sucks, but it allows him to go out every night. I give him ten bucks, say have one on me, old friend, have one on me.

I go to Milwaukee again.

Rockford twice.

Minneapolis/St. Paul.

I'm still too thin, I go on a special diet. I eat all of my meals at either The Weiner Circle, Taco/Burrito Palace #2, or The Olympic Gyro House. I only order items with red meat, I always order extra red meat, with most things I also order extra cheese.

A man offers to sell me a six pack of whoop-ass and a bottle of I know you can. I ask him how much? He says you ain't got enough, mother-fucker, but I bet you can afford some of that lonely shit.

I visit Lilly. Sometimes I read to her, sometimes I speak to her, sometimes I just sit with her.

Summer becomes Fall.

 

I
had my last drink one year ago, exactly one year ago. I took my last hit from a pipe one year and two days ago.

 

I
am on the train going to the Northern suburbs. I have been to the house before. It is the house where I did my first pick-up, where the strange man in silk pajamas played a joke on me. I've been here three or four other times, each time someone different came to the door. I am supposed to get a briefcase and take it to the South side of the city.

It is late morning. The train is almost empty. I sit alone reading, occasionally glancing out the window, the sky is gray, the leaves have turned, they are starting to fall. It is starting to get cold.

I get off the train take a cab. I remember how to get there. I see the house large gray stone. I walk to the front door, knock, no one comes, I knock again, hear shuffling feet heavy breathing. I wait. The feet stop shuffling I still hear breathing. I knock again the door opens it's the pajama man again. He's wearing a pair of dirty white underwear briefs and a dirty white t-shirt, there are deep dark circles beneath his eyes. His nose is running and he's shaking and he looks like he hasn't slept in a long time. He is holding a nine millimeter pistol in one of his hands and he is pointing it at my face.

What do you want?

I am shocked terrified can't speak.

Who sent you here?

I don't want to die I immediately start shaking.

WHO SENT YOU HERE?

The black hole of the barrel is an inch from my face I can smell the metal. I don't want to die I can't breathe move speak I don't want to die I'm frozen.

MOTHERFUCKER.

The man cocks the gun.

WHO THE FUCK SENT YOU HERE?

I don't want to die I piss myself. Urine runs down my leg, into my shoes, it keeps coming my bladder is done.

WHO?

He shakes the pistol fuck fuck fuck.

SENT YOU?

I don't want to die he shakes the pistol fuck me.

MOTHERFUCKER?

I've got to get away move move move if I don't get away I'm going to die. I take a small step back. The man stares at me, the pistol is still aimed at my face. I take another small step I am so scared I don't want to die please please please. I take another step the man stares at me his finger is on the trigger please.

LEONARD SEND YOU?

Please another step please don't shoot me please.

LEONARD SEND YOU?

Another step don't shoot me please.

LEONARD SEND YOU?

I don't want to die. I don't want to die.

YOU TELL LEONARD.

Another step.

THAT I'LL SHOVE THIS GUN UP HIS ASS.

Another step.

AND BLOW HIS MOTHERFUCKING HEAD OFF.

Another step back. Another step, another step. The man watches me please don't shoot me please another step another step. Please please please let me get away. The man watches me, I'm almost gone. He lowers his gun, wipes his nose, shuts the door. I keep moving back until I reach the sidewalk. I turn and quickly walk away. My heart is exploding my legs are jelly. I'm shaking there is urine all over my legs and feet, my pants and my socks and my shoes. When I reach the end of the block I turn the corner I'm away holy fuck I'm away. I fall to my knees on a small patch of brown grass between the sidewalk and the street. I start vomiting.

 

I
take the train home my pants are covered in piss. I buy a newspaper to keep over my lap so that the other passengers don't see my pants it's not a comfortable ride.

I call Leonard tell him what happened he is not happy. He tells me he's coming to Chicago to handle this personally he wants me to meet him at his usual hotel in the morning.

I spend the rest of the day chain-smoking cigarettes. I can still see the black hole of the barrel. I can still smell the metal. I can still hear the bullet entering the chamber. I can still feel the urine running down my leg. Night comes I can't sleep. I can still see his eyes, hear his voice. He had his finger on the trigger and he could have killed me.

I go to the bank. Fill a bag with cash. I walk to the hotel it's a long walk. I want to burn away the fear I still feel it, it doesn't work I still feel it. I take the elevator up, go to the restaurant. Leonard and Snapper are sitting at a table waiting for me. They do not look happy. They stand as I approach them. Leonard speaks.

My son.

What's up, Leonard?

How you doing?

I'm good.

I look at Snapper.

What's up, Snapper?

You tell me.

Had a weird day yesterday.

So I fucking hear.

Leonard sits, we follow. Leonard speaks.

Have you eaten?

No.

Let's order, and then I want you to tell Snapper what happened.

We order, and unlike most of our meals together, the order is not excessive. After we order I recount yesterday's events. Midway through, our food comes and I continue to speak as we eat. Neither Leonard or Snapper interrupt. They just sit and quietly listen to me. When I finish, Snapper takes a deep breath, pushes his plate away, looks at Leonard and speaks.

You know what this means?

I do.

He's finally gone completely crazy.

I thought he was getting better.

Am I authorized?

Yes.

Snapper turns to me.

You're coming with me, kid.

I speak.

No way.

You owe him.

I don't care.

He stuck a fucking gun in your face.

I don't care, I'm not going.

I lean over and pick up the bag of cash, which has been sitting at my feet.

I set it in front of Leonard.

I also don't want to do this anymore. I brought you the money I owe you.

Leonard looks surprised.

You're gonna quit because some crazy fuck pulled a gun on you?

That's part of the reason.

What's the other part?

I feel good about staying clean. I feel like I can do it long term. Knowing that, I've got to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. No offense, but I don't want to be a deliveryman anymore, no matter how much I get paid. I don't want guns in my face. I want to try to have a normal life, or at least something that resembles one.

Holy shit. This is crazy. You should hear yourself.

I laugh.

What if I promoted you?

You know I can't really be part of what you do, and I don't want to be any more a part of it than I already am. I gotta do something on my own.

What?

I don't know, but I have enough money to take some time and figure it out.

Leonard motions to the bag of cash.

I don't want the money.

I owe it to you.

I want to know what you spent it on.

Just take it.

Why won't you tell me where you spent it?

I just don't want to.

Tell me what you spent it on, and you can keep it, and you can leave your job, and you can let Snapper deal with your friend in the suburbs. I agree with your intentions, and think it will be good for you to start dealing with the future, I just want to know where the money went.

I'd rather show you than tell you.

Fine. Show me.

You have a car downstairs?

Of course.

Let's go.

Leonard motions for the bill gets it signs it. We stand, I pick up my bag, we leave. Snapper gets the car he picks us up in front of the hotel. We start driving north and west it isn't far. I give Snapper directions we stop at the florist where I always stop, as soon as I walk through the door they know what I'm going to buy. I buy red roses beautiful red roses. Lilly loved them when she was alive, I hope she still loves them.

We pull through the gates. We are still in the city but on its edges, we can see the towering skyline in the distance. Land spreads out before us, around us, there are thousands and thousands of stones. We drive slowly along a thin, winding road. It is quiet, still, empty. We turn off the main road onto a smaller road, drive for a moment, I motion for Snapper to pull over.

I step out of the car, Leonard and Snapper step out of the car. I lead them
through the aisles. We do not speak. The only sounds are our steps and the chatter of small birds. Thirty yards in from the road I stop in front of two simple white stones. The stones are identical to each other. Words in simple print read—

Katherine Anne Sanders
1932–1994
You were Loved

 

Lillian Grace Sanders
1970–1994
You were Loved

There are dead roses in front of Lilly's stone. I pick them up and put the fresh roses in their place. I lean toward the point where the stone meets the grass, where I imagine she lies, her head resting on a pillow. I whisper hello, I love you, I brought some friends with me, you probably remember Leonard, he always asks about you, I hope you're well, I love you, I love you.

I step back, stand with Leonard and Snapper, who are staring at the stones, and I speak.

They didn't have any family except each other, so I took care of them. I had them moved from the county morgue to a funeral home. I bought them dresses for burial, had them placed in silk lined coffins and I got these plots and the stones. They were Catholic, which I didn't know until after, so I had a Priest perform the services. Lilly had a shitty life, a shitty fucking life, and I thought I could change that, but I couldn't, so I wanted this, at least, to be nice for her.

I look at Leonard, tears are streaming down his face. He speaks.

They're beautiful.

Yeah.

I've never seen anything so beautiful.

I nod, start to tear up.

I'm gonna have roses sent here once a week forever.

You don't have to do that Leonard.

And these graves will always be tended.

You don't have to do that Leonard.

I know I don't have to, but I'm going to.

Thank you, Leonard.

He looks at Snapper, speaks.

Let's pay our respects, let them know we're thinking about them.

Snapper speaks.

I got a feeling they know.

I'm sure they do.

They step forward and they cross themselves, get down on one knee, start to pray. I don't believe in god, but I like to think that Lilly is in a better place, so I get down on one knee and I close my eyes and I pray.

I hope she knows.

That for her and only her, for her and only her.

I pray.