Эд Макбейн: Running From Legs and Other Stories

“Makes you sweat, don’t it?” Tigo said.

Dave nodded, saying nothing. He watched Tigo. Tigo was looking at the gun.

“Me now, huh?” he said. He took a deep breath, then picked up the .38. He shrugged. “Well.” He twirled the cylinder, waited for it to stop, and then put the gun to his head.

“Bang!” he said, and then he squeezed the trigger. Again, the firing pin clicked on an empty chamber. Tigo let out his breath and put the gun down.

“I thought I was dead that time,” he said.

“I could hear the harps,” Dave said.

“This is a good way to lose weight, you know that?” He laughed nervously, and then his laugh became honest when he saw that Dave was laughing with him.

“Ain’t it the truth? You could lose ten pounds this way.”

“My old lady’s like a house,” Dave said laughing. “She ought to try this kind of a diet.” He laughed at his own humour, pleased when Tigo joined him.

“That’s the trouble,” Tigo said. “You see a nice deb in the street, you think it’s crazy, you know? Then they get to be our people’s age, and they turn to fat.” He shook his head.

“You got a chick?” Dave asked.

“Yeah, I got one.”

“What’s her name?”

“Aw, you don’t know her.”

“Maybe I do,” Dave said.

“Her name is Juana.” Tigo watched him. “She’s about five-two, got these brown eyes...”

“I think I know her,” Dave said. He nodded. “Yeah, I think I know her.”

“She’s nice, ain’t she?” Tigo asked. He leaned forward, as if Dave’s answer was of great importance to him.

“Yeah, she’s nice,” Dave said.

“The guys rib me about her. You know, all they’re after — well, you know — they don’t understand something like Juana.”

“I got a chick, too,” Dave said.

“Yeah? Hey, maybe sometime we could...” Tigo cut himself short. He looked down at the gun, and his sudden enthusiasm seemed to ebb completely. “It’s your turn,” he said.

“Here goes nothing,” Dave said. He twirled the cylinder, sucked in his breath, and then fired.

The empty click was loud in the stillness of the room.

“Man!” Dave said.

“We’re pretty lucky, you know?” Tigo said.

“So far.”

“We better lower the odds. The boys won’t like it if we...” He stopped himself again, and then reached for one of the cartridges on the table. He broke open the gun again, and slipped the second cartridge into the cylinder. “Now we got two cartridges in here,” he said. “Two cartridges, six chambers. That’s four-to-two. Divide it, and you get two-to-one.” He paused. “You game?”

“That’s... that’s what we’re here for, ain’t it?”

“Sure.”

“Okay then.”

“Gone,” Tigo said, nodding his head. “You got courage, Dave.”

“You’re the one needs the courage,” Dave said gently. “It’s your spin.”

Tigo lifted the gun. Idly, he began spinning the cylinder.

“You live on the next block, don’t you?” Dave asked.

“Yeah.” Tigo kept slapping the cylinder. It spun with a gently whirring sound.

“That’s how come we never crossed paths, I guess. Also I’m new on the scene.”

“Yeah, well you know, you get hooked up with one club, that’s the way it is.”

“You like the guys on your club?” Dave asked, wondering why he was asking such a stupid question, listening to the whirring of the cylinder at the same time.

“They’re okay.” Tigo shrugged. “None of them really send me, but that’s the club on my block, so what’re you gonna do, huh?” His hand left the cylinder. It stopped spinning. He put the gun to his head.

“Wait!” Dave said.

Tigo looked puzzled. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to say... I mean...” Dave frowned. “I don’t dig too many of the guys on my club, either.”

Tigo nodded. For a moment, their eyes locked. Then Tigo shrugged, and fired.

The empty click filled the basement room.

“Phew,” Tigo said.

“Man, you can say that again.”

Tigo slid the gun across the table. Dave hesitated an instant. He did not want to pick up the gun. He felt sure that this time the firing pin would strike the percussion cap of one of the cartridges. He was sure that this time he would shoot himself.

“Sometimes I think I’m turkey,” he said to Tigo, surprised that his thoughts had found voice.

“I feel that way sometimes, too,” Tigo said.

“I never told that to nobody,” Dave said. “The guys on my club would laugh at me, I ever told them that.”

“Some things you got to keep to yourself. There ain’t nobody you can trust in this world.”

“There should be somebody you can trust,” Dave said. “Hell, you can’t tell nothing to your people. They don’t understand.”

Tigo laughed. “That’s an old story. But that’s the way things are. What’re you gonna do?”

“Yeah. Still, sometimes I think I’m turkey.”

“Sure, sure,” Tigo said. “It ain’t only that, though. Like sometimes... well, don’t you wonder what you’re doing stomping some guy in the street? Like... you know what I mean? Like... who’s the guy to you? What you got to beat him up for? ’Cause he messed with somebody else’s girl?” Tigo shook his head. “It gets complicated sometimes.”

“Yeah, but...” Dave frowned again. “You got to stick with the club. Don’t you?”

“Sure, sure... no question.”

Again, their eyes locked.

“Well, here goes,” Dave said. He lifted the gun. “It’s just...” He shook his head, and then twirled the cylinder. The cylinder spun, and then stopped. He studied the gun, wondering if one of the cartridges would roar from the barrel when he squeezed the trigger.

Then he fired.

Click.

“I didn’t think you was going through with it,” Tigo said.

“I didn’t neither.”

“You got heart, Dave,” Tigo said. He looked at the gun. He picked it up and broke it open.

“What you doing?” Dave asked.

“Another cartridge,” Tigo said. “Six chambers, three cartridges. That makes it even money. You game?”

“You?”

“The boys said...” Tigo stopped talking. “Yeah, I’m game,” he added, his voice curiously low.

“It’s your turn, you know.”

“I know.”

Dave watched as Tigo picked up the gun. “

“You ever been rowboating on the lake?”

Tigo looked across the table at him, his eyes wide. “Once,” he said. “I went with Juana.”

“Is it... is it any kicks?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s grand kicks. You mean you never been?”

“No,” Dave said.

“Hey, you got to try it, man,” Tigo said excitedly. “You’ll like it. Hey, you try it.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe this Sunday I’d...” He did not complete the sentence.

“My spin,” Tigo said wearily. He twirled the cylinder. “Here goes a good man,” he said, and he put the revolver to his head and squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Dave smiled nervously. “No rest for the weary,” he said. “But, Jesus, you got heart. I don’t know if I can go through with it.”

“Sure, you can,” Tigo assured him. “Listen, what’s there to be afraid of?” He slid the gun across the table.

“We keep this up all night?” Dave asked.

“They said... you know...”

“Well, it ain’t so bad. I mean, hell, we didn’t have this operation, we wouldn’ta got a chance to talk, huh?” He grinned feebly.

“Yeah,” Tigo said, his face splitting in a wide grin. “It ain’t been so bad, huh?”

“No, it’s been... well, you know, these guys on the club, who can talk to them?”

He picked up the gun.