War at Home: A Smokey Dalton Novel (7 page)

“You want to come?” I asked.

“Hell, yeah,” he said as he turned around.
His eyes sparkled for the first time that day.
“When do we leave?”

SIX

Given the chance, I would have left the next morning.
But I had a few loose ends to tie up first.

And I hadn’t even told Jimmy my plans.
I did so at dinner that night.
I didn’t mention that I was thinking of leaving Chicago permanently.
I figured I could tell him that when — if — we found some place we liked better.

“I dunno,” he said without meeting my gaze.
“Me and Keith was planning on swimming this summer.”

Keith was the Grimshaw boy closest to Jimmy’s age.
They were best friends.

“Swimming?” I asked.

Jimmy nodded.
“They got Jackson Park open.
We thought maybe you or Franklin or Malcolm could take us there.
Keith’s never been swimming in the lake.”

“Never?” I asked.

“His mom says it’s too cold.”

Lake Michigan was cold, but that was precisely why most Chicagoans loved to swim in it during the city’s sweltering summers.
If Althea didn’t want the children to swim in the lake, she probably had other reasons — pollution or dangers near the swimming area.

“You’re going to swim all summer?” I asked.

Jimmy nodded, his mouth full of
m
acaroni and
c
heese.
When it got hot, I didn’t like to cook.
When we’d gotten home, I’d boiled the noodles, fried some sausage, and had a meal on the table within fifteen minutes.

“You can probably swim in the lake before we leave,” I said.

He swallowed, chased the food with some milk, and started to wipe his milk mustache off with the back of his hand.
Then he noticed how closely I was watching him.
He picked up his napkin and dabbed at his lips, missing the mustache altogether.

“Can’t Mrs. Kirkland find somebody else?” he asked.

“She can’t afford anybody else,” I said.

“If she can’t afford anybody else, how can she pay you?”

Out of the mouths of babes.
I sighed.
“We’d probably trade services.
My work for hers.”

“More school,” he said, and slumped in his chair.

I nodded.
“If we stayed, you’d be going this summer anyway.
Franklin and Mrs. Kirkland came to terms this afternoon.”

“Nobody goes to school in the summer,” Jimmy said.

“Lots of people do,” I said.
“That’s why it’s called summer school.”

He wrinkled his nose, slid back up in his chair, and dug into the meal, holding his fork in his fist.
He had been hungry after the long game, and he was dirty.
I made him wash his hands and face before we ate, but he would still have to take a shower before bed.

“What’ll I do when you’re working?” he asked.

“That’s something I’d have to figure out. For the most part, you’d come with me.”

He wrinkled his nose again.
“I’d rather swim.”

I understood.
I would rather give him the carefree childhood he’d never had, the kind he played at this afternoon.
But Jackson Park wasn’t far from gang territory, and the Blackstone Rangers had a reputation for getting in deeper trouble in the summer.
They’d started mugging people on the El last month, apparently to fill the Stones’ coffers with extra money.

“What about Laura?” Jimmy was asking about Laura Hathaway.
He had become quite attached to her in this past year.
They were friends, independent of my relationship with her.

“What about her?” I asked.

“Would she come?”

“Probably not,” I said.
“She has her own work to do.”

“You work for her.
Don’t you got to stay?”

“I contract with her,” I said. “I work for myself.”

He probably didn’t understand the distinction, but he nodded anyway.

“Won’t she miss us?” he asked.

“I suspect she might.”

“Then maybe we should stay.”

“It’s not final yet, Jim,” I said. “I just wanted you to know what I was thinking.”

He sopped up the last of the bright orange sauce on his plate with a piece of sausage.
“Could Keith come?”

“I don’t think the Grimshaws would approve.”

He sighed.
“What about Mrs. Kirkland? If she’s teaching, maybe I should stay.”

“I’m not talking about moving,” I said.
At least, not yet.

“Yes, you are,” he said. “You don’t like it here anymore.
You got scared in April, and you haven’t liked it ever since.”

I set my fork down.
I hadn’t realized Jimmy had been watching me so closely.
I shouldn’t have underestimated him.

“I am worried,” I said.
“And, to be honest with you, I’m not sure this is the best place for us.”

“But we gots friends!” He usually lapsed into bad grammar to provoke me, but I had a sense that this time, the lapse was caused by his distress.

“Yes, we do.
We don’t lose friends because we move.”

“You did.”

I looked at him.

“That nice minister guy in Memphis, we never saw him again.
You don’t even call him.”

Jimmy was referring to Henry Davis, who had helped us leave town.
I’d contacted him a few times, most recently from a pay phone when a case had taken me to Indiana, but Jimmy didn’t know that.

“Maybe that’s our biggest problem,” I said.

Jimmy frowned at me.
“What?”

“That we’ve begun to feel safe enough to forget why we’re
here in the first place.”

Jimmy looked down.
He pushed the last piece of meat around on his plate.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” I said. “I have to do what’s best for us, and sometimes it’s not pleasant.”

“I know,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper.

“There’s no guarantee that we’re moving,” I said.
“I’m not even sure we’re going on a trip, but it’s a possibility.
I promised you I wouldn’t lie to you, and I’ve kept that promise.”

“I know.” His voice was even softer.

“If we do go, we’ll keep the apartment here and tell everybody we’ll be back.”

“But what if we don’t come back?” Jimmy asked, raising his head.

“Then we’ll call and explain why,” I said. “It won’t be like Memphis.
We can stay in touch with everyone here.”

“I don’t want to move, Smoke.”

“Noted,” I said.
“But what would looking at a few other towns hurt?”

He shrugged, not meeting my gaze.
“Can I be excused?”

“Yes,” I said.

He picked up his plate and his glass, carried them to the sink, and then walked, head down, to his bedroom.
It was my turn to do the dishes, but I let them sit for a few minutes.

I sighed.
Sometimes this parenting thing seemed like the most complex job I had.
I had no idea if I should have told him my plans or not.
But I had promised not to lie — and sometimes I even doubted the wisdom of that.

After a moment, I got up and went into the living room.
I called Laura, and asked her to come over the following night, for one more difficult dinner.

SEVEN

I spent the next day tying up loose ends.
I organized my finances, paying as many of July’s bills in advance as I could.
I got traveler
’
s checks.
I had traveled with a lot of cash before, and it made me nervous.
I didn’t really want to do it again, even though I worried about cashing the traveler
’
s checks.
I figured I’d be able to find a sympathetic bank somewhere.

I also traded in my rusted Impala for a panel van.
I cleaned out the back, bought three sleeping bags and a cooler, along with a tent.
If we couldn’t afford a motel room,
I figured we could sleep in the van or, if we found a place to camp, we would pitch a tent.

I wrote reports, closing a few cases for the various insurance companies I worked for.
I told the companies I would be available again toward the end of summer.

Jimmy spent the time packing and repacking his clothes.
The thing that surprised me and pleased me as well was that he wanted to take an armload of books “to read for Mrs. Kirkland.”

Apparently Grace had given him a summer reading list.
Jimmy viewed it as his work for the trip, and I didn’t try to talk him out of it.
I made room in the back of the van for a box of books and reminded Jimmy that if we carried the weight, he would have to do the work.

All too quickly, it was time for dinner.

Jimmy and I planned the meal together and, considering it was so hot, finally decided to barbecue.
We had custody of the Grimshaws’ old grill — they hadn’t wanted to move it — and we used it on nights like this.
Althea had taught me to marinate the hamburger patties in beer and melted butter before I cooked them, and that gave them an extra flavor that made them seem irresistible.
I added Kaiser rolls, potato chips, and a tossed salad.
Jimmy declared it a perfect meal.

Laura arrived around seven.
The heat had wilted her blond hair, and she had washed off her makeup.
She had also changed into a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt that accented her figure.

I kissed her lightly, gave her a Coke, and offered to sit outside at the communal picnic table in the back if the apartment was too hot for her.
She seemed tempted.
Then she noticed that Jimmy had set the table, placing a bouquet of wildflowers in the middle.

“I think here is just fine,” she said.

Jimmy grinned.
She had pleased him.
I went down to cook the hamburgers while the two of them sat inside, conversing about whatever it was that they felt they had in common.

When I got back, they were laughing.
Jimmy glanced at me sideways, as if he were trying to give me a message.
I got it.
But I had other considerations besides our friends in Chicago.
And as I had told him before, Laura could travel.
We would see her again.

I set the plate of steaming hamburgers on the table between the pickle relish and the sliced onions.
Jimmy got the ketchup and mustard out of the refrigerator, setting them beside the plate of Kaiser rolls.
I tossed the salad, and placed it in the very center of the table.

“Fancy,” Laura said.

“Like a five-star restaurant,” I said, and we both smiled.

“It’s the best,” Jimmy said.
“Smokey makes the best burgers in the whole world.”

“That’s a tall order,” Laura said as she grabbed one of the rolls, split it open, and applied ketchup to the bottom.
She added lettuce, onions, and a slice of cheese but no mustard.
I served salad to myself and Jimmy, knowing if I didn’t he wouldn’t eat any of the green stuff.

Jimmy waited, fidgeting until Laura was done, then assembled his own burger, using everything on the table.
I went last, my stomach rumbling.

“You sounded serious on the phone,” Laura said to me.

“Eat first.” Jimmy spoke with his mouth full of hamburger and bun, barely understandable.
He swallowed, and added, “Then Smoke gets to talk to you.”

“Coward,” I said.

Jimmy shrugged. “It’s your idea.”

“What is?” Laura asked.

So I told her about Daniel Kirkland and Grace’s concern for him.
I told her that missing persons cases were tough, and I told her that the case might take the summer to solve.

She listened closely, then looked at Jimmy, who throughout my monologue had concentrated on inhaling his burger.
“And you want me to take care of Jimmy?”

“He’s coming with me,” I said.

“On a case?”

“I can’t ask you or anyone else to watch him for the entire summer.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, “and he might like it. I’m not far from the lake, and my place is air-conditioned.
I still have his room—”

“No,” I said before Jimmy could chime in.
“He’s coming with me.”