Читать книгу Three Deuces Down - Keith Donnelly - Страница 14

We stayed in the Big Easy the entire week, finally leaving the following Sunday. Each day after Tuesday we decided to stay “one more day” until Sandy finally said she had to go home. I felt like we were on our honeymoon rather than what it was, a final fling. We made love twice a day in every conceivable way. We walked every block of the French Quarter and I felt like we stopped in every store. We spent hours at the flea market. I say we when I really mean Sandy. I was just tagging along enjoying watching her delighting in all the things to see, to touch, to decide upon. Every night we picked out a different, but equally famous, French Quarter restaurant and had exquisite meals. We talked about everything except the move and what was to become of us. Sunday came all too soon.

On the flight home, Sandy was staring out the window apparently lost in thought.

“Good time?” I asked. She turned toward me.

“A very good time,” she smiled. It was a sad smile. “I love you, Don,” she added and waited for a response. Caught off guard, I had none. I was totally unprepared. She smiled the sad smile and turned away looking out the window once again.

We landed at Tri-Cities Airport shortly after four o’clock. Since we had not planned on staying a week, we had packed for only a few days. Luckily for Sandy, when she packed for a few days she had enough for a week. I, on the other hand, had had to do some laundry at the hotel. I carried my bag off the plane and went to get the Pathfinder while Sandy went to baggage claim to claim the wheeled suitcase that I jokingly called the moving van. I picked her up at curbside and we rode in silence back to Mountain Center.

I parked in front of her building. We took the elevator to her third floor unit and I wheeled Sandy’s suitcase to her front door while she searched for her keys. She opened the door, wheeled in the suitcase and stood in the doorway. She took a step forward and put her arms around me and buried her head in my chest. I held her for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she let go and stepped back.

“I had a great time,” she said. “I’ll talk to you before I leave.” She turned and went inside and closed the door.

I stood there for a few moments and looked at her condo door with a sense of utter confusion. I turned reluctantly and went back to the Pathfinder and drove to my own parking space. I went inside and called Billy and told him I was back. In a few minutes he showed up with Jake, who did his welcome home dance for me.

“How was New Orleans?” Billy asked.

“Great!”

“Learn anything?”

“Hard to tell.”

I filled him in on my conversation with Hoffman.

“So he’s suspicious but he can’t put his finger on anything,” Billy said.

“That’s about it, Chief. What have you been up to?”

“I checked all the limo services and private cars in the area to see if I could turn up a lead. Nothing.”

“I had another idea on the plane back,” I said. “Private charters or rentals. Check all the small airports. We might get lucky.”

“No luck involved,” Billy smiled. “Crack investigating.”

“I’ve got to go to the gym,” I said, heading to the bedroom to change. “I think I ate half of New Orleans. Want to join me?”

Billy and I were in Moto’s for almost an hour before we uttered another word toward each other. We had finished with the weights and were in the side room with the speed bag and the heavy bag. Billy was holding the heavy bag for me and I was pounding away. I normally worked on the speed bag because the heavy bag hurt my wrists, but tonight I felt like hitting something substantial. I was working hard and the sweat was pouring. Anger and frustration were flowing through my punches. I had been at it for a while grunting and groaning but I couldn’t stop. I had to let it all out.

“Something bothering you?” Billy asked.

“No,” I said and kept swinging.

“Bullshit,” said Billy.

After a few more minutes of all-out assault I stopped, mainly because my arms were about to fall off. Sweating profusely and breathing heavily, I grabbed my towel and my water bottle and sat down. Billy joined me. He was quiet and I knew he was waiting for me to say something. I told him Sandy was leaving. I told him how I felt or at least how I thought I felt. I told him I was very confused.

“What should I do, Chief?”

“Giving advice is bad medicine,” he said, trying to be serious.

“Oh, cut the Indian crap,” I snapped.

We sat there for some time toweling off and drinking water. No words were spoken. My breathing was returning to normal. Billy motioned to the heavy bag and I went and held it for him as he went through his routine. When he had finished we sat down again saying nothing and drank more water. Finally Billy broke the silence.

“I’m done,” he said. He put his hand on my shoulder and added, “You’ll work it out, Blood. You always do.”

He left me sitting there alone with my thoughts. I tried to let my mind go blank and almost succeeded until Marlene Long skipped through the back of it. From time to time thoughts of Marlene popped into my head at the most unlikely moments and for no explainable reason. I wondered if the spectre of Marlene Long was keeping me from saying to Sandy all the things that needed to be said. I hadn’t seen Marlene since the summer of my senior year, but I could not purge that one magical moment from my memory. Ecstasy’s curse. I pushed Marlene Long back into my subconscious and concluded that I couldn’t spend the night at Moto’s. I got up to leave. As I left the side room I glanced to the right and spotted Sandy at the far end of the gym hard at work on an exercise bike. She had her head down buried in a book. We were so much alike in so many ways, I thought. Feeling the same anger and frustration that I was feeling, she had come to the gym to deal with it the same way I had. She did not see me and I slipped quietly out to the front desk where Moto was ogling female body-beautifuls in the latest Muscle magazine. He looked up.

“Does she know I’m here?” I asked, tilting my head toward Sandy.

“Don’t think so. I was in back office when she came in. Did not talk to her.”

“Do not mention that I was here,” I said slowly for emphasis.

Moto nodded grandly with a bow of his head. “Everything okay between you two?”

“No, it’s not,” I muttered as I walked out into the cool darkness.