Dave Zeltserman - Small crimes

'Don't make me do this,' she pleaded through her sobs. 'Don't make me do this.'

Her hands clenched again into tiny fists and she started punching her legs.

I got up and held her, trying to keep her from hitting herself. She didn't pull away or try to fight me this time. Instead, her head buried itself hard in my stomach while her tears and saliva soaked my shirt. Still she begged me, her voice muffled by my body.

'What's the big deal?' I tried asking her. 'He's going to be dead in a few weeks anyway.'

But I knew what the big deal was. For years I had promised myself that when I got out of jail I'd never cause any more harm. Somehow I knew she had made the same promise to herself. That when she left Montreal, she'd never do anything like that again. In my case, it didn't take me long to break my promise, but I was forced to. I had no other choice. And now I was doing the same to her.

Her body felt so warm and moist as I held her. I tried holding her harder. I tried to slow down her sobbing. At that moment I felt so empty inside. So rotten. As I looked at her, I realized I had no choice either. I told her I wasn't going to make her overdose Manny.

'I'll figure something else out,' I said.

Her sobbing slowly subsided. I held her and ran my hand through her hair and kissed the top of her head, and told her not to worry about anything. After awhile she pulled away from me – not in a harsh way, but so she could look up at me.

'You're not going to make me do it?' she asked

'No, I won't. I'm sorry that I put you through this.' I took one of her linen napkins and used it to wipe her tears. 1 didn't think it would be that big a deal to you,' I lied.

'I never did what Dr Bouchaire told you I did. I don't know why he has to tell people I did those things.'

It was her turn to lie, but that was okay. I smiled and told her I believed her.

'I don't want you going to prison, but I can't do something like that."

'Don't worry about me. I'm not going to prison. I'll think of something.'

'Maybe he won't say anything about you.’

‘Maybe.'

She took hold of my hand and kissed it, and then held my hand against the side of her face. I stood there feeling a mix of relief and panic. I had no idea what I was going to do next.

'Look at me,' she said, showing a sad clown's smile. 'I must be a mess.'

That was putting it mildly. Her crying had left black smudges under her eyes and streaks of makeup running down her face. Somehow, even strands of her hair had gotten drenched, and were now knotted up and looking like something that might've been pulled out of a drain.

I reached down and kissed her. Awkwardly, she tried to kiss back.

'I'm sorry all this happened,' I said. 'Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up.'

'Will you stay and wait for me?' she asked.

I shook my head. 'I better get going.'

'You don't have to. You can stay if you'd like.'

'I'd like to, but I got to get some rest and figure stuff out.'

'Will I see you again?'

'Of course you will. As soon as this is over, we'll get together.'

I turned to leave and I heard her call out to me. When I looked back, she was blushing. 'Joe, if you go to prison we could still marry.'

I had to bite my tongue to keep from bursting out laughing. It was so damn funny and sad at the same time. There was no question she wasn't all there, but I smiled as sweetly as I could and told her that was exactly what we would do. And the saddest part was knowing everything that I did about her, I still found myself attracted to her.

When I got out to the parking lot, I saw that Hal Wheely was gone. I guess he decided I wasn't worth losing sleep over.

I drove aimlessly. At first I was numb, no thoughts, nothing, and then a raw, cold panic overtook me. I knew Dan was serious about his ultimatum, and I knew if I was still alive by Wednesday it wouldn't much matter anyway. After Manny signed his deal and gave his deathbed confession, it would be as good as over for me.

I tried to think of some way out, but all I could come up with were nutty ideas; like sneaking into the hospital and overdosing Manny myself, or using the sixty-three hundred dollars I had left to bribe an orderly to do the job for me. As I said, they were nutty ideas, and they would've sent me straight to prison, but that was all I could come up with. After a while I started thinking of Phil, of whether there was a chance I could get away with hiding somewhere near his front door with a hunting rifle.

The panic hit me hard, harder than the other day at Kelley's. It got to the point where I could barely breathe. As I drove, a numbness spread through my legs and arms. I felt as if my limbs were dead and no longer a part of me. And the coldness, Jesus; it was like ice cubes were being pushed into my skull. Then all at once I knew I was going to black out. The world started tilting sideways on me and it was all I could do to pull over, crawl out of my car, and curl up on the side of the road.

I didn't black out. I came close, but I was able to fight through it. After a while I pushed myself up into a sitting position, grabbed my knees, and rocked back and forth until I felt I could stand. Then I got to my feet.

My clothes were drenched through with sweat. It took about all the strength I had, but I hobbled to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out my duffel bag. I found some clean clothes and changed there by the side of the road. I had to rest for a while, and then after dumping the duffel bag back into the trunk, I got into the driver's seat, and just sort of collapsed.

For a long time all I could do was hold my head in my hands. I felt so lousy. I started to think how a few lines of coke would make me feel so much better, how it would help clear out the cobwebs clouding my head. After a while that was all I could think of. It got to the point where I could almost taste cocaine in the back of my throat.

I forced my head up and looked in my rearview mirror. I looked as bad as I felt. My skin was so damn pale and my eyes so damn red. I steeled myself, and then started the car and pulled back onto the road. My hands shook as I drove. I decided I'd make a quick trip to Kelley's. And, as I told myself, I wanted to see Earl anyway and let him know there were no hard feelings about his affidavit.

Kelley's was more crowded than the other night. I ended up having to create a makeshift parking spot next to the dumpster. Before going in, I read over the copy of Earl's affidavit that Junior had given me, and then folded it into my jacket's inside pocket.

The same biker type from the other night looked me over at the door. Inside, the place was jammed. Every seat around the stage was filled and every table was taken. Springsteen's 'My Hometown' blasted over the speakers, and I glanced in the direction of the stage and saw a dark brunette slip out of her G-string. The way I was feeling it made no impact. I headed towards the bar, spotted Earl pouring some draft beers, and nodded at him. He noticed me and gave me a cold eye back in return. The bar was mostly empty. I pulled up a stool so I could sit across from him.

'How'ya doing, Earl,' I said.

He lifted his eyes towards me. 'Man, you look like shit.'

'Yeah, well, I'm feeling kind of crappy.'

'So you had to come here to spread the wealth, huh? Infect me and my girls and my customers?'

'I don't think I have anything contagious. Probably just suffering from allergies.' I lowered my voice. I could really use a few lines. Whatever it costs.'

'I don't know what you're asking.'

I took twenty dollars out of my wallet and placed it on the bar. 'Come on, Earl, my head's a mess right now. Three lines. That's all.'

'Wait a second. You trying to buy coke from me? That's illegal, man.'