Elmore Leonard - Up in Honey's Room

“Are you sober?”

“I’m glowing,” Bo said. “I can’t come home. I think the police are looking for me. When they come, tell them I’ve gone up north. It’s what people around here do, they go up north. Two women at the market. ‘What’re you doing this weekend?’ ‘We’re going up north.’ Northern Michigan. I don’t have an idea what’s up there.”

Vera said, “Bo...?”

“I saw Carl, driving around in his Pontiac like he had no idea where he was going. He turned to go through Palmer Park, the road’s wide open there, hardly any traffic, and I got excited and went after him, fired almost thirty-two rounds, an entire clip. I don’t know if I got him or not.”

“Did he shoot at you?”

“When I turned around, yeah, he was ready for me.”

“Then you didn’t get him. But why do you want him, because he insulted you? That’s settled with a duel, not shooting at him with a machine pistol. What about your car?”

“It’s full of bullet holes. But listen, Vera? He could’ve been going to Honey’s.”

Vera said, “Yes?”

“And I could’ve followed him. Honey’s there, Jurgen’s there, and Carl.”

Vera said, “You want to shoot Carl because he called you a Bohunk?”

“He knows as much about you as they do. I could’ve gotten the three of them in her apartment.”

Vera said, “If that’s where he was going.”

“I’m so fucking glad you listen. You always listen and remember. Vera, if we could get them to all be there tomorrow I could do it then. Set it up. Carl, Honey and Jurgen’s Lotion. Zap.”

Vera said, “Bo, I don’t want to be in this house anymore. Please get me out of here before I become an alcoholic.”

“You already are.”

“I count my drinks,” Vera said. “I never have more than twenty-five in a day.”

“We’re going away tomorrow,” Bo said. “If we can think of a way to get all three of them at Honey’s apartment again. You want to say good-bye. Or you want to leave each one of them something.”

Vera said, “You have to do this, don’t you.”

“If I don’t,” Bo said, “the FBI will wring you out and hang you up to dry. You like that saying? We’ll make it sometime in the evening, but not too late. We arrive last. The ones I want are there.” He turned from the pay phone on the wall and looked down the bar at the patrons, a few men and one woman, blitzed, talking loud, a guy at a table reading a dream book. “I’ll slip in the house tonight. Leave the back door unlocked.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey, they don’t have vodka.”

“They ran out of it?”

“They don’t have it, Vera, ever.”

“I’m glad we’re leaving.”

“We’ll each take a bag. Any treasures you can’t leave behind, as long as they’re small. The umbrella, that big black one like Neville Chamberlain’s.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.”

Honey jumped hearing the buzzer. She answered, pressed the button to open the door downstairs and said to Jurgen, “It’s Carl.”

Jurgen waited, standing in the living room, dressed now.

“I think you’d better stay in the bedroom,” Honey said.

“He doesn’t know I’m here?”

“I don’t see how he could.”

“But you don’t trust him now,” Jurgen said, showing his grin.

“Because we’re lovers? Talk to him, see what he’s thinking about.”

“He’ll ask about you, I know.”

“Lie to him, it’s okay. Or tell him I’m here and I’ll come out and talk to him. It’s up to you.”

“He’ll wonder why I’m nervous,” Honey said.

“You don’t seem nervous to me. Listen,” Jurgen said, “I know what you’re going through. You have a feeling for me, but I’m the enemy. My being here could be enough to put you in a federal prison. If you want to tell Carl I’m here, do it, I’ll understand.”

She wished he didn’t smile at her-not a big smile, almost a sad smile, but still a smile-saying things like that to her. He went in the bedroom and closed the door. Honey put “Gee, Baby, Ain’t I Good to You” on the Victrola, Honey letting Billie Holiday’s baby-doll voice set a mood for her, and Jurgen appeared in the hallway, smiling at her.

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

Carl came in wearing the dark suit she liked and stood looking at Honey looking at his dark tie on a white shirt, the white against his weathered look that she liked. He paused to listen and said, “Billie Holiday. I should’ve known you like blues.”

“How could you tell?”

“You’re hip.”

“I don’t jitterbug,” Honey said.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“I like slow dancing, get in there close.”

Now he showed a smile, the same way Jurgen did.

“I believe that,” Carl said. “Did you see Jurgen last night?”

Sneaking it in, the smile gone.

“Yeah, I did.”

“You talk to him?”

“I asked him if he wanted to see you. Since you can’t grab him till the FBI says it’s okay.”

“Who told you that?”

“You did.”

“I did, didn’t I? Will he see me?”

“He didn’t say.”

“You know where he is?”

Honey shook her head.

“Are we still friends?”

“I’ll make you a drink if you want.”

“But you won’t tell me where he is.”

“Uh-unh.”

“You like Jurgen and don’t want to be a snitch.”

“I like you too,” Honey said. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

He paused, looking at her, before saying, “You don’t want to tell me what you know about an escaped German prisoner of war?”

Honey smiled. “You’re serious?”

Carl had to smile.

“Let’s have a drink,” Honey said.

She saw him glance at the hallway to the bedroom as they went in the kitchen.

She said, “You drink beer? You never ask if I have any.”

“Do you?”

“No, you’re lucky I have rye.”

She made a couple of drinks and handed him one. Honey was about to sit down. Instead, she picked up her cigarettes from the table saying, “Let’s be comfortable,” and took Carl back to the living room to sit in the cushy sofa and light cigarettes, not more than a foot of space between them.

Carl said, “Honey, I’m gonna tell you something. Right now I don’t give a rat’s ass where Jurgen is or what he’s doing. All I can think about is going to bed with you.”

The man quiet in there behind his eyes, Honey seeing him always as a man , before adding on famous and usually married, but not today.

“You want to take me to bed.”

“I don’t think about much else,” Carl said.

“In the bedroom?”

“If that’s where the bed is.”

“Or we can do it right here.”

Honey stood up. She pulled her blouse out of her skirt and unbuttoned it.

“You want to do it on your sofa?”

She took off her blouse.

“I’ll put a sheet over it.”

“When you have a big bed in there?”

Honey put both hands behind her back to unhook the bra.

She said, “Carl, do you want to fuck me on the sofa or see if Jurgen’s in the bedroom? One or the other.”

She unhooked the bra and let it drop.

Honey opened her apartment door and picked up the morning Free Press , Thursday, April 12, and brought it to Jurgen at the kitchen table having his coffee. She said, “A hundred and forty-two thousand of you surrendered to the Reds in East Prussia,” handing the paper to him. She went to the stove to pour herself a cup. It was 8:20. They were both dressed, Honey in her black sweater and skirt that Jurgen liked.