Nobody Bats a Thousand (10 page)

“Okay, the number one rule of trashing is to keep your car running, this ain’t really illegal, but you can never be too careful, so we gotta work fast.”

They quickly went at it, searching the neatly stacked piles behind each house, and soon Mary Jean learned that this little, mean, foul-mouthed, bad-smelling thing in the dirty red hat was right. This alley was a gold mine. Knowing she already had more than enough junk of her own, MJ was disciplined enough to keep her paws off several things she strongly coveted, but still, in about forty-five minutes they had loaded up a nearly new wicker trunk, filled it with planters, books and a hand-woven rug; filled her car’s trunk with another small wooden trunk, a wooden magazine holder, two large wrought-iron candle holders; then they finished off, packing more things—two slightly damaged barstools and an oak bookcase—into her backseat until Mary Jean couldn’t see through her rear window and had to use her side mirrors to see behind her.

They U-turned and came back down the alley with Patty half hanging out the window almost salivating at things they had to leave behind. “Damn, I wish you had a bigger car. Maybe we could make another trip?”

“Maybe, let’s get this done first.”

“Let’s get another beer first. There’s a store up there on the right. You wouldn’t have any change, would ya?”

“You didn’t give me any change back from before.”

“Oh, that’s right. Well, it’s on me then,” Patty said. A few minutes later she sat back down and handed Mary Jean another twenty-four ounce Bud. “First stop,
Barry’s
White Elephant
.  Make a right and go straight.”

They pulled up to Barry’s, which was downtown, and MJ helped Patty drag the bookcase from the backseat. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Here’s the picture of my clock.”

“
Your
what?  Oh yeah, give it to me.”

“What did he say?” MJ asked as Patty sat and closed the door.

“He said he was overstocked, things were slow and couldn’t go a penny higher, that fucking crook.”

“No, what did he say about the picture?  Has he seen my clock?”

“Ah, no, no he hasn’t seen it. Hey, the next stop is only about a mile away. Make a left here.”

Again the proprietor hadn’t seen MJ’s clock. At the third and final stop, after Patty had closed out her inventory and carried it into the store, MJ crept out of her car and watched through a large side window as Red Hat Patty worked her transaction.

“So what did he say about my clock?”

“Sorry, he hadn’t seen it either. Maybe we could get another beer and make one more run, what’d you say?” Patty handed the photo to Mary Jean.

“How would you know whether he’d seen it or not since you didn’t show him the picture?”

“Sure I showed it to him.”

“No you didn’t. I watched you. You never pulled it out of your pocket. I bet you didn’t show it to the other two guys either.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. You’re a Big, Fat,
Liar
!”

“Well, that’s it. Red Hat Pat
ty
don’t
take that from anybody.
” Patty got out of the car and slammed the door. “That’s the thanks I get for trying to help. You citizens are all alike. Fuck
you,
bitch,” she said before stomping off to parts unknown with a big fresh wad of cash in the front pocket of her grimy jeans.

Mary Jean sat feeling more used than a bus station toilet seat. “Little bitch didn’t even offer to pay for gas.”

She started the Rambler then started home. When she got there it was after twelve, and Nadine was in front of the TV. “Is that
Montel
Williams the smartest guy in the world or what?”

Mary Jean failed to answer. She went into the bedroom, set the alarm, took an Ativan, and went to bed. She had to be at work looking bright and cheery in less than six hours.

Still a little foggy and more than a little shaky after the alarm shocked her into semi-consciousness, Mary Jean broke apart an Ativan and downed a half, a sane notion to not go overboard for once in her life; a notion which quickly headed for the sacred burial grounds of sane notions when, just for the hell of it, she took the other half after she showered and dressed. By the time she got to
Danny’s
, with the lack of sleep and the remnants of the alcohol and pills gripping every part of her except her soul, she was relaxed enough to be bumping off the walls but loose enough not to feel the collision if she did, another one of nature’s ways of evening things out. Still there was no need to worry, she could carry a tray and do this job in her sleep, which wasn’t too far off until she sweet-talked Chester into giving her a large sh
ot of vodka
for an
energy booster about eight o’clock.

The restaurant and bar were both slow, but MJ had one booth of middle-aged guys out looking for a good time on a boring night in a boring town. A little light banter and shallow flirting kept them interested enough to hang around for a few extra rounds, tipping her five bucks
a round
until just after ten when the one guy with obviously the least hair and probably the most balls finally popped the question in his most suave and deeply serious tone. “So when do you get off?”

“Never, I’m Catholic,” Mary Jean responded without pause, which caused a roar of laughter from the inquisitor’s friends and resulted in a decent pile of cash left behind as they cleared out leaving the lounge empty.

Mary Jean was home just after eleven. Nadine was on the couch incessantly swi
tching stations with the remote, staring at the screen like a mindless zombie on the prowl
.

“Here’s the rest of the rent for the month.” MJ handed over a thin stack of cash. “But I need my headlight fixed right away. If I get a ticket it’s my ass not yours.”

“My brother said he’d replace it, that it’s no big deal…oh, and Maggie wanted to know what happened with whoever you were looking for.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow. I’ve got to get into the garag
e to get some more stuff anyw
ay.
” Mary Jean, weary but still technically awake, watched the screen as the images continued to change. “Oh, by the way, I never asked you how you fucked up my car.”

“Oh that, it really wasn’t my fault, Mary Jean.
I was just going to buy some frozen yogurt, you know they have this blackberry-cherry flavor that I’m almost strung out on, and I was driving north on Van Ness…or wa
s it west on North? Well anyway,
” Nadine continued on for probably quite some time, but before she got to any crucial part of her explanation, Mary Jean had already slipped off into the bedroom, changed her clothes, and was out, deader than the broken headlight on her cute little baby-blue ’64 Rambler.

The new morning brought more of the same: life, breath, and unrelenting yearning for an odd-shaped clock that everyone thought was uglier than week-old road kill.  She met Maggie downstairs and filled her in about her day with Red Hat Patty.

“Well that’s it
,
dearie
, no more fooling around. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.  I have an idea. Go put on some shoes and meet me at my truck in five minutes.”

As Maggie removed the anti-theft device from the steering wheel, it slipped from her grip and fell on MJ’s foot. “OW! Now I know why the
y
call it a
Club
.”

“Sorry,
dearie
. I suppose I shouldn’t bother with this thing. If someone wants to steal this old truck, they
probably need it worse than me.
” Maggie started her vehicle,
and then
started sorting through the mess of old maps and hundreds of notes on scraps of paper and old receipts scattered across the entire length of the deep slanted dashboard.

“What are you looking for?” Mary Jean asked after observing the search for over a minute.

Turning toward Mary Jean, Maggie’s mouth hung open under eyes magnified and distorted behind the grossly thick lenses of her simple black-framed glasses. “I forgot,” she said after a moment’s pause.  She laughed, put the truck in gear and backed out of the driveway.  In less than five minutes they were parked in front of Mary Jean’s old apartment.

“So what’s the plan?” Mary Jean asked, actually wary of her own question.

“I want to have a talk with this, this, what’s his name?”

“Eddie. But I really don’t know what that’ll accomplish.”

“Well, we really never
know
what we are about to accomplish do we dear.  But humor me if nothing else. Hand me my bag, would you dear?”

Mary Jean began to lift the large, floral, carpet handbag from the floor of the truck but found it so heavy
she had to use both hands to hand it to Maggie.
Outside the truck, w
earing jeans and a blue-flannel shirt she’d probably found secondhand from a Big ‘n Tall store, Maggie let her big square purse dangle straight down as she plodded up toward the apartment’s steps.

Mary Jean followed but just wasn’t in to it. Just the sight of her old apartment reminded her of how crappy everything had been the short time she’d been back in town, and she saw this latest trip down memory lane to be just a miserable waste of time. Maggie pounded the doorknocker in a series of three knocks several times before Eddie finally answered, wearing his fluffy yellow bathrobe.

“
Ohhhh
, it’s you. You woke me up, why?  Undoubtedly it’s about that stupid, ugly clock, isn’t it?  Look, I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you, and I don’t need this.”

“I just wanted to make sure we showed you the photo. Mary Jean would you show this gentleman the picture.”

“No need, I saw the picture. That’s why I know it’s stupid and ugly.”

“But it’s a cherished heirloom to this poor dear, it’s a gift from…from just who dear?”

“My,
ahh
, late Aunt Helen.”

“I’m sorry about your aunt and about your clock, but I don’t
need
this. Could you both just
please

”

Maggie began to cough deeply from her diaphragm. She held her free hand to her mouth as she braced her wide hips against the thin wrought-iron porch railing.

Eddie waited but the coughing continued. “What’s wrong? What can I do?” He sounded more annoyed than concerned.

“Water,” cough, cough,
“could
you bring an old lady some water?”

“Okay, okay, wait right here.
” Eddie pushed the door nearly shut, then frantically made for the kitchen. Maggie instantly stopped coughing as she pushed the door open with her foot, stepped into the middle of the living room and set her big purse down on a round glass table. Mary Jean stood in the doorway watching as Eddie nearly ran into Maggie as he dashed from the kitchen, stopping just short. “
Here.
” H
e held out the glass.

“Just put it on the table,” she said, and as he turned Maggie reached into her purse, and simultaneously grabbed Eddied by his right sleeve as she held to his temple the largest handgun Mary Jean had seen this side of a
Dirty Harry
movie. “Now we won’t have any trouble now, will we
dearie
?”

Eddie was stiff and still but still seemed to be shaking.

“I think you know more than you’re saying.”

“Lady!
Don’t do anything crazy! You want to go to prison? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I’ve got terminal cancer, two months at the most to live. What’s the big deal if I take a little smart-ass shit like you with me?
Free meals down at the county jail while I wa
it to die doesn’t
sound too bad.
I hear the food’s pretty good.”

“Lady, don’t!  Mary, talk to her please.”

“It’s Mary
Jean
.”
             

“I’m sorry, Mary Jean, tell her to stop. Please!  I don’t know anything about your clock. I swear it.”

“Buddy, don’t piss me off. I know you’re lying,” Maggie said. “I’m going to give you until the count of three. If you don’t start yapping by then I’m going to plaster whatever brains you have all across that pretty white wall….
One!”

“Please! You’re not serious.”

“Fuck
t
hree,
I’m giving you ‘til two.
” Maggie cocked back the hammer of the huge pistol.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you who took
it,
just take the gun away from my head.”

“You are in no position to negotiate,
dearie
. Start talking or say good-bye. I’m an old dying woman with nothing to lose.”

“Okay, okay, I sold it to her, but it was just to get rid of her. I don’t even know who she was. When I told her she could have i
t for no less than twenty bucks
I figured she’d just go away and quit pestering me. No one was more surprised than me when she pulled out twenty bucks, but I just sold it to her to get rid of her, I swear it! I did
n’t think anybody would miss it.” H
e slowly shifted his head
to look
toward
s
the doorway. “Mary Jean I didn’t know it meant so much to you. If I had I swear I wouldn’t have sold it. I mean I moved all your stuff for nothing just to be nice. I’ll give you the twenty dollars. I’ll, I’ll…how about a free haircut?  I could do great things with your hair.”