Never Too Far (23 page)

“Have you picked any names for the baby?”

“You name him.”

“Him? You think it’s a boy?”

“It feels like a boy.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“But he’s yours. You should name him, not me.”

“I want you to name him.”

“What about the father’s name?”

She didn’t respond right away, and Joe realized that he hadn’t asked an innocent question.

“You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to,” Joe said.

She raised her head a bit as if she was going to say something. Joe waited for her to speak, but it was hard to keep quiet. He wanted to prompt her.

“The father is my father,” she finally said.

Joe didn’t understand. He thought she meant the father was the father, which didn’t make any sense because it was redundant. Obviously the father was the father.

“I don’t know what you mean? The father is my…”

Then he got it. When he heard the exact words coming out of his mouth, he recognized the one word that made all the difference. Immediately, his mind seemed to seize-up. He couldn’t think.

“You don’t like me anymore?” she said.

“What?”

He still couldn’t think. He had a hard time getting his head around it.
The father is her father
.

“You don’t like me,” she repeated.

“No,” Joe said. “Don’t say that. Of course I still like you. Nothing’s changed. That doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.”

Joe didn’t know if it mattered or not. All he knew was that he cared about Mary. He already figured the baby was a product of something bad. He just didn’t expect it to be what she told him.

“Of course it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “Is that what you were afraid of? Don’t worry. I mean it. Nothing will come between us.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he repeated. “Remember, everything is washed away. The past is cleansed. You’re pure, white as sheep’s wool. Remember?”

Then she did something wonderful. She lifted the brim of her hat to look directly into Joe’s eyes. The bright morning light flowed over her face. Her eyes seemed to gleam like
crystals shining in the sun.

“You are mine,” she said.

“Yes, I’m yours,” he said.

Chapter 38

I
n the afternoon, they went out to find the fat man, Templeton. This time Joe parked the wagon down the street next to a warehouse and waited for the motorized security cart to go by before he drove the wagon around the side of the steel mill and stopped again beside the back door where they had been yesterday.

“Okay,” Joe said. “Remember what we talked about. What do you do if anybody comes?”

“Drive the wagon away and go to where we stopped to look at the lake.”

“Right. And then I will meet you there, okay? I won’t be long. In a short time, we’ll be going home.”

He grabbed Mary’s hand and squeezed it before he got out and she slid over to where the reins hung slack.

Inside the steel mill, amid the roaring noise and the boiling furnaces, Joe had no problem spotting the fat man. He stood near the second furnace, his thumbs stuck in the sides of his black bib overalls. His fat belly hung down over his waist like an appendage. He watched the greasy grimy men swivel an iron funnel around to pour molten liquid into the casting molds spread out on the floor. 

“Hello!” Joe shouted over the noise.

The fat man pivoted slowly. His giant belly slid around, pushing Joe back, making him stumble until he was several feet away from where he started. The fat man stared down at Joe like he was a speck on the ground. His dark eyes flickered with reflected orange light. Tears pooled in his lower lids as if at any second they might spill. It looked as if he was on the verge of weeping, but he didn’t. He chomped on a black cigar stub.

“We don’t take day labor,” he said.

“Templeton?” Joe said.

“Who wants to know?”

“You know Frank?”

“Frank who?”

“Frank from the plains.”

The fat man stared, saliva building on his oily lips. Then he smiled.

“The dirt-eater! How could I forget? I yanked him away from that slag wagon, but not before he lost a few fingers.”

He clapped Joe on the back and Joe caught a whiff of what smelled like charred toast. It was hard to believe this giant glob of a man was the hero who saved Frank.

“Are you a relative?”

“His brother.”

“His brother? Did he send you here instead of coming himself? What a coward.”

“My brother is not a coward,” Joe said.

“I stand corrected. It’s easy to be brave from a distance.”

Joe wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

“Frank said you would know what to do.”

“About what?”

Joe was afraid to say the word. “Some special fuel,” he said.

“Special?”

Templeton winked at him in an exaggerated way before he narrowed his eyes. The fiery light reflecting in them dimmed. His eyes turned to what looked like slivers of rubber shaved from a black tire. The tears hanging on his lower eyelids bulged but still didn’t spill.

“Alright, little man. Show me what you got.”

When they went outside and Templeton saw Mary in the cab, his eyes lit up and he chewed his cigar stub faster, which made his lips even oilier.

“She’s a tiny one,” he said. “Fresh from the country and pregnant to boot.” This seemed to excite him even more. He rubbed his hands and his big belly quivered.

“Allow me, my dear,” he said.

He wrapped his thick paws around Mary and lifted her out of the cab. Joe didn’t like how Templeton was acting toward her. After he set her on the ground beside the wagon, he withdrew his fat paws from around her body, but not before trailing a dirty claw up her skinny legs and beneath her dress. Mary pushed her dress down against his finger and Templeton laughed.

“Keep your hands off her,” Joe said.

“No offense. Don’t want me handling the merchandise, huh?”

“She’s not the merchandise,” he said indignantly. Why did everyone keep thinking that? Instead of getting angry, though, he managed to stay focused. “I got it hidden in the cab.”

Joe stepped inside and yanked up the floorboards. He untied the bundle, peeled back the layers of crusty deerskins, and unscrewed the cap on the plastic container of diesel.

“Nice disguise,” Templeton said.

It was the first time Joe had seen the diesel since he and Frank poured it into the container back home. A fluttery feeling of excitement came over him when he realized this was the moment for which he and Mary had traveled all these miles for. It was finally here. He was about to fulfill his mission of selling the diesel, exactly what he’d envisioned back home when they first discovered it. The smell of the released fumes spread against his face and made the inside of his nose feel burned. 

Templeton grunted as he bent over his huge gut and squeezed his shoulders into the cab. He lowered his head and sniffed.

“Grade A stuff,” he said. He stared at Joe. “I won’t ask you where you got this.”

Joe looked away.

“The SRF hit a refinery the other week, or at least that’s what officials are saying, and fuel is in even shorter supply than usual. This will bring a big price.”

Joe got out of the cab and stood beside the wagon next to Mary. Templeton’s shadow covered them. He eyed Mary again.

“I’m going to make you a generous offer, since you’re the dirt-eater brother of one-fingered Frank.” He laughed. “Ten thousand shekels,” he said, “and the girl.”

“What?”

“The girl included.”

“Included? No.”

“She’s seriously not for sale?” Templeton sounded surprised.

“Of course not.”

“Not even for an hour?”

Joe looked at Mary. Her head drooped forward in her big floppy hat. She held her fingers laced beneath her distended belly like she was holding a heavy sack. She toed the cinders with her torn-up shoes. He couldn’t imagine ever being without her. In fact, he was now furious that Templeton would still think she was part of the bargain. The whole idea disgusted him.

Joe looked back at Templeton. “Not on your life, you ninny shit.”

Templeton’s eyes narrowed. Joe steeled himself for some kind of assault. The tears hanging in Templeton’s eyes seemed about to fall, but yet again they didn’t. He spit his cigar at Joe. The slimy stub smacked him in the face and then plopped on the ground. Joe figured that wasn’t the end of it. He positioned his foot in preparation to kick Templeton in the crotch like he did to Phil. But that’s not what happened. Instead, Templeton eased back on his heels and smiled in a sly way. He leered at Mary. Then he pulled a long cigar from his overalls and shoved it between his oily lips.

“You drive a hard bargain. I can see you are a man of resolve. So I’m willing to offer you five thousand flat.”

He rolled the cigar in his mouth. The cigar tip slid around in his lips until it was coated with saliva and turned black. He seemed to think he had made a deal too impossible to resist. And he was right. It was far less than the original offer, but what choice did Joe have now? His brother Frank said to take whatever he gives you. “I don’t care how much it is,” he’d said. “Even if it’s not a lot, or not what we hoped for, take it anyway. Got that? Just take it and go. Don’t mess around.” Before Joe could agree to the terms, he heard the buzz of the motorized cart. It was rolling toward them, its red light swiveling on top.

“Damn it,” Templeton muttered, and bit down on the cigar. 

Joe looked at the exposed container of diesel. The last thing he wanted was to be caught with illegal fuel. He quickly grabbed the floorboards and smacked them down into place. He wondered if he should get in the wagon and start moving. They could always come back again. Now that he’d made contact with Templeton, he’d certainly not want the deal to die. So Joe grabbed Mary by the hand and pulled her toward the cab.

“Hold on,” Templeton said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The cart came to a stop and the same man from yesterday stepped out. He hitched up his pants, straightened his shirt, and walked forward.

“Ah, Sal,” Templeton said. “Good to see you. Protecting us from thieves and saboteurs as always.”

“Cut the crap,” Sal said. “What’s going on?”

“Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind,” Templeton said.

“Cut the crap, I said. What’s going on?”

“Meet my new friends.”

“I met them yesterday.”

“I see,” Templeton said.

“Anything I should know about?” Sal said. He stared at Templeton as if he expected something.

“Of course, of course.”

Templeton dug in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.

“You could be a little more subtle,” Sal said.

“No need to be ashamed. Business is business.”

“Yeah, business that could get me killed.” He tipped his head toward the sky. “Eyes in the sky,” he said. “Eyes in the sky.”

Joe glanced up to see what Sal was talking about, but Joe didn’t notice anything until he saw a black globe atop the far corner of the steel mill. He remembered seeing other black globes throughout the city, and he wondered if that’s what Sal meant by “eyes in the sky.”

Sal looked around a moment before he settled his gaze on Joe. The way Sal stared at him made Joe feel like he was being searched like a criminal.

“You didn’t see a thing, right?” Sal said to Joe. “Right?” he repeated. The tone of his voice made it clear there was only one correct answer.

“Right,” Joe said.

“Leave it in the usual place,” Sal said to Templeton.

After that, Sal turned around, walked to the cart, and got in.

As Sal drove away, Templeton muttered, “Asshole,” while he waved his hand. He looked at Joe again. “Now where were we?”

“You were about to give me five thousand.”

“Not so fast there. I just had to give up some money to keep this deal alive.” He stopped and scratched his chin. “Let’s see, how about we meet at the Weimar Club at
ten. We’ll have a few drinks, watch a show, and do some business.”

After Templeton gave Joe the directions, he offered to help Mary back into the cab, but she quickly turned on him before he put a hand on her and stepped into the cab herself.

Templeton laughed. “She’s got spunk. I like that. Makes it more fun. Bring her along.”

Joe wanted to rip Templeton’s repulsive face off.

“She’s not coming.”

“You could make oodles of money off her, but it’s your choice. You kids take care for now.”

Templeton winked and then turned and went back in the steel mill. As much as Joe disliked him, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had to play along in order to get the money. That was one of the unsavory parts of life. Sometimes you had to give in to things you hated to, things that made you feel bad about yourself, things that made you feel weak, all in order to simply get something you needed.