Elmore Leonard - Bandits

“I did, yesterday. I was prepping your friend in there.”

“Well, you better talk to her again.” He took a step to walk off.

“Jack, I’m busy, I’ve got people here.”

“Then call her later. If I tell you why I picked up somebody who isn’t dead you’ll say it was my idea. Talk to the sister and I’ll see you after while.” Jack walked across the hall and up the stairway.

He found Amelita in the casket selection room, browsing, running her fingers over the parquet finish of a Batesville done in solid oak. Jack said, “That’s the Homestead model, with your Tawny Beige interior. We can give you fiberboard, plastic, metal, or hardwood, from sixty to sixteen thousand dollars, depending on your budget and how sorry you are to see the loved one go. I’m glad we’re not putting you in one, you look too healthy.” She did, the overhead light shining in her dark hair, long, down to the middle of her back in the flowery shirt, reflecting in her dark eyes as she looked at him.

“They so nice inside”-touching the tawny crepe now-“so soft.”

“Like you could sleep forever in there, huh? Do you know where you’re gonna be staying?”

“I’m going to L.A. sometime, but I don’t know when. I hope soon, I always want to go there.”

“To Los Angeles?”

“Yes, I have two of my aunts and a grandmother live in L.A. I hear is pretty nice there. When you put people in this, do they have all their clothes on?”

“Yeah, they’re completely dressed. Did Sister Lucy say where you’ll be staying in New Orleans?”

“She said she find a place. I like this pink color inside, very nice.”

“Well, Sister Lucy seems to know what she’s doing. You’ve known her a few years…”

“Yes, a long time.”

“She told me what happened to you. That was awful, the guy taking you away from your home. Twice, in fact, huh? The first time you must’ve been just a kid.”

“You mean Bertie?”

“What’s his name, the colonel.”

“Yes, Bertie. Colonel Dagoberto Godoy Diaz. He was very important in the government. I mean before, the real government. He could buy one of these, even the one you said, sixty thousand.”

“Sixteen, not sixty. He killed a guy. The doctor.”

“I know. He had so much anger, it was terrible.”

“And you saw him do it.”

“Tha’s what I mean, to see him like that.” She hugged her arms and seemed to shudder. “Not the same man I knew in Managua.” She reached into the casket to feel the pillow, once again relaxed. “He was going to enter me in the Señorita Universo, but the war became worse and he had to leave, so I went home.” She seemed fascinated by the pleated material covering the pillow.

Jack took his time. “But now, the way I understand it, Amelita, he wants to kill you.”

“She tole you that, uh? Yes, he was so angry he thought he would get leprosy, but he won’t. You don’t give it to a person that way, you know, like that disease now is popular, or the old one they call the clop. Someone has to tell Bertie he won’t get it. Though I heard the Commandante Edén Pastora, also with the contras , has mountain leprosy, but I don’t know what kind that is. Perhaps only from insect bites.”

Jack said, “Wait. Okay? This guy kidnapped you. I mean before. He disappeared you, came at night and grabbed you and took you up in the mountains. Is that right?”

“Yes, of course,” turning to him with a look of surprise. “He want me to be with him.” Her gaze softened then as she said, “When you like a girl very much, don’t you want her to be with you? You have girl friends, I bet all kinds of them.” She smiled, moving closer. “Good-looking guy with expensive clothes,” taking his seven-dollar striped tie between her fingers, feeling it. “I saw your nice rooms you have, with a big refrigerator has beer and a bottle of vodka in it. Sure, I bet you bring girls here for the evening. Maybe stay all night… Oh, you look surprise. I know American guys in Managua when I was there would do that, open their eyes. Who, me? Like a little boy. I think only American guys do that, but I’m not certain. Want you to believe they always so good. But you bring girls here, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”

“Once or twice I have.”

“Tell me something else, okay? You ever get in one of these with the girl?”

Jack said, “Are you serious?”

“I jus’ wonder. It so nice and soft,” touching the Tawny Beige crepe again.

He said, “Amelita, that’s a casket.”

“Yes, I know what it is. But I never look inside one or feel it. Like a little bed, uh?”

He said, “Why don’t we go sit down, take it easy.”

She gave him a sly look over her shoulder. “In your room? Yes, I think that would be nice.”

He thought a moment and said, “If I was the one pulled you out of the situation you were in…”

“Yes?”

“I’d seriously consider throwing you back.”

She frowned. “You mad at me? Why?”

No, he wasn’t, really; but all he said was, “Come on,” and turned out the lights in the casket selection room. They walked down the hall past his apartment and the prep room to Leo’s office.

“Sister Lucy’ll get in touch as soon as she’s free. If she doesn’t, you’ll have to sleep on that.” He nodded toward a cracked and creased leather sofa that was old as Mullen & Sons.

Amelita sat down in it, saying, “Why do you call her that?”

Jack said, “What?” looking at the mess on Leo’s desk, letters and invoices, blank First Call Records lying by the phone. No new business.

“I say why do you call her Sister Lucy? She’s not a sister no more. She jus’ Lucy. Or Lucy Nichols, if you want to say all her name.”

Jack looked up, stared at the girl sitting in the middle of Leo’s worn-out sofa. He took a moment.

“What’re you talking about, she’s not a sister? That’s what I called her…” He took another moment to think about it. “I’m sure I did, and she didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Maybe she so use to it.”

“All the guys at the mission when I picked her up, they called her sister. I can hear ’em. And Leo, the guy I work for…” Jack paused, not sure if he could count Leo. Leo might’ve assumed she was a nun, because she’d been at a mission in Nicaragua.

Amelita said, “I don’t know who you talking about, but I know she isn’t a sister. She quit being one. You think if she was a sister you see her dress like that, with those Calvin Kleins? I’m going to buy a pair when I go to L.A.”

“I wondered about that.”

“Sure, soon as I go there.”

“How do you know? Did she tell you?”

“When we lef’ Nicaragua in the car. She say to me, I’m not going to be a sister no more. I can’t do it.”

“She said that?”

“I jus’ tole you she say it.”

“I mean, are you sure?”

Amelita shrugged. “Ask her, you don’t believe me.” Her gaze roamed over the office, to Leo’s mortuary science license framed on the wall, before returning to Jack, standing by the desk. “She was nice when she was a sister. She was the nicest one at Sagrada Familia.”

“Don’t you think she’s nice now?”

“Yes, but she’s different. I think something is happening to her.”

When she called she said, “Jack? It’s Lucy.” He waited and she said, “Jack?”

“How was dinner?”

“I’d like to tell you about it.”

“Boiled shrimp and beer?”

“I may never see my dad again. How’s Amelita?”

“She’s okay. What happened?”

“I really would like to talk to you.” It was her voice, but it was different, strained; she was keeping it in control. “If you could bring Amelita here… I’m at home, my mother’s house, 101 Audubon, on the uptown side of the park.”