Charlie Huston - A Dangerous Man

Miguel fills out another keno slip.

– S’cool. He’s got other virtues.

He looks up from his slip, smiles at me.

– Like keepin’ my ass out of trouble. That was good lookin’ out back at the club. I don’t like to see no one get hurt, but that was good lookin’ out. Man can feel safe with a dude like you watchin’ his back. No lie.

– Thanks.

– When I get up there, when they move me to The Show, gonna be lookin’ for you. I’ll give a call. You can be my man maybe.

– Sure. Maybe.

I point at the screen.

– Shouldn’t you be playing now?

Miguel shakes his head.

– Had the College World Series. We just got knocked out last weekend.

Jay snorts.

– Yo, that was bogus. Texas sucks. And the ump was fucking blind.

– S’cool.

– Yeah. Anyway, yo, that shit’s behind you now. Now’s the real deal.

Jay winks at me.

– Anyway, that ain’t the real reason why Mike hasn’t reported yet. Real reason’s business. Gettin’ paid business.

Miguel smiles. His teeth are perfect.

– Man’s got to get paid.

He clinks glasses with Jay.

– Anyway, contract took a little while to sort out. But it’s on now. Kingsport tomorrow. Pro ball.

Jay shakes his head.

– Fuckin’ rookie ball.

– S’cool. Everyone starts in rookie. I’ll get up there.

He watches the players on the screen; spectacularly gifted young men making their bodies do things that no one else can do.

I look at him. His plane takes off at eight. He’ll touch down on the East Coast around three in the afternoon and report for his first day of professional baseball. Young and fit, relaxed and smooth, just the slightest of rings under his eyes to say that he’s done anything but get a good night’s rest.

The cocktail waitress comes by with another round and picks up another stack of keno tickets. The drink in front of Jay is still all but full. He slides the new cocktail over to me.

– So can you have a drink now, yo?

I look at the glass.

– I don’t drink.

He shakes his head sadly.

– Damn. Doesn’t like baseball. Doesn’t drink. That is some sad shit. Wasn’t for that car and the way you were all MacGyver with the x, I don’t know what I’d do with you.

Miguel leans back in his chair and yawns.

– And that ass-kicking he delivered.

– Oh, yo, that was intense. You laid some hurt on those assholes. Check it. What’s the most fucked-up thing you’ve ever done to someone?

A short film starring all the fucked-up things I’ve done screens inside my head.

Miguel puts a hand on Jay’s arm.

– Lay off. Man’s a professional.

– But I want to know.

I shrug.

– Nothing too bad.

Jay squints one eye at me.

– See, yo, I expect that to be your answer, but I bet you’ve done some seriously fucked-up shit. Like, where’d you get the scar?

Miguel gives him a little shove.

– Cool it, bro.

I touch the scar, remember a guy no older than Jay, remember sitting on top of him while scalding water pounded down on both of us, remember pushing the barrel of his own gun into his mouth, and pulling the trigger.

– It was in an accident. No big deal.

Jay holds up his hands in surrender.

– That’s cool. I’ll back off. You got your secrets. I won’t push. But next time we come to town I want some stories, yo. I want to hear the gangsta shit.

He lays out his hand. I slap it lightly. He nods.

– That’s what I’m talking ’bout, yo.

A half hour later I drive them to the airport. I offer to stick with them until they board, but Miguel says it’s cool. Jay grabs a baggage cart, drops his enormous bag in it, climbs on top of it and curls up.

– Yo, Mike, I’m finished. You’re gonna have to push me.

Miguel flips him off and turns to me.

– So we cool? We owe you anything, or what?

I shake my head.

– All taken care of.

He nods.

– Cool. So.

He puts his hand out. I take it and we shake.

– On the real though, you took care of business tonight. I want to thank you. That shit had blown up? That would have been bad news. Last thing I needed would have been cops and reporters. So thanks.

He offers me his fist.

– Respect.

I bump my fist against his.

– Sure.

He flashes me a peace sign, and I watch him push the luggage cart, loaded with his friend and his friend’s baggage, through the automatic doors.

At home I pop four ludes. And still I dream.

I dream about baseball.

And wake a few hours later, wanting things and people that are long dead.

mantracker45: sandy, there’s a rumor that he’s been in touch with you.

scandy: where you hear that mt???

bigdangle: sandy, i think ur hot.

scandy: TY big!!! you buy the calendar yet?

mantracker45: it was on danny lester’s site.

bigdangle: my favorite shot in the clandar is the one with you kneeling on the chair and looking back over your shoulder. its HOT:)

scandy: I don’t know what danny lester has on his site and I cant really talk about him because of my lawsuit but i have not been in touch with him and ty again big, I like that shot 2.

mantracker45: you worry about him coming for you?

bigdangle: what u wearing sandy?

scandy: I used to worry, but i cant live mny life like that. I cant live in fear. thats what my therapist says

bigdangle: what ru wearing sandy??

scandy: sweats and a tanktop, big. but come see me dance some time and i’ll be wearing the stuff I feel most comfortable in. n othing;)

manwhogotaway29: hello sandy

bigdangle: im not wearing anything. i’m alone with my big cock and your calendar and I’m thinking about fucking you in the ass. do you like it in the ass?

USER BIGDANGLE HAS BEEN BOUNCED FROM THE SITE

mantracker45: what a dick.

scandy: hi manwho

scandy: yeah, mt, what girl wants a big “dangle” anyway.

mantracker45: lol.

manwhogotaway29: it’s me sandy.

scandy: who do you mean manwho?

mantracker45: just bounce him, sandy.

manwhogotaway29: remember the el cortez, snady? remember your house on jewel and what I did? remember what the dog did to your boyfriend’s dick? I know where you are sandy.

USER MANWHOGOTAWAY29 HAS BEEN BOUNCED FROM THE SITE

mantracker45: another dick. you ok sandy?

scandy: i’m fine.

mantracker45: is it the same guy?

scandy: I think so. I bounce him and a couple weeks later he reregisters as manwhogotaway67 or something.

mantracker45: he scare you?

scandy: not any more.

mantracker45: i could take care of you sandy.

scandy: ty mt. that’s sweet.

mantracker45: i could strap you to a fence and cut your nipples off and saw your head open and put your brain in a bag. I could take care of you good WHORE!!!

USER MANTRACKER45 HAS BEEN BOUNCED FROM THE SITE

USER SCANDY HAS SIGNED OFF

Pretty standard stuff for one of Sandy’s chat sessions.

I watch the empty screen for a couple minutes to see if she’ll come back on, but she doesn’t. I click the sign-off button and billybob44 disappears from the list of signed-on users. My screen name hung up there all through the chat along with a couple others, never popping up in the main window with a message for Sandy. Just another heavy-breathing scroller, eavesdropping on the chat, but never participating.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and I still haven’t been able to get back to sleep. I think about going to Danny Lester’s site and checking on this rumor that I’ve been in touch with Sandy, but I just turn off the computer instead. Why bother? It will be like every other lie on Lester’s site, just juicy enough to bump up his hits for awhile and keep his advertisers happy. Besides, I have to take about five Xanax to be able to look at Lester’s site. The home page centered on my FBI wanted poster; his account of how he “flushed me from cover”; his bullshit memorials page to my victims. Thinking about it gives me hives.