Andrew Vachss - Two Trains Running

“You don’t know nothing about our life, the life we live, Kitty. Some people got farms, some people got houses, some people got cars. What we got is that we’re the South Side Kings. And every King knows, when we roll on another club, he might not be coming back. But if one of us punked out, ever punked out, then we’re all dead, or might as well be.”

“You could always come back home, Uriah. Daddy didn’t mean those things he said. I know he didn’t. You come back, and I’ll stand right there with you, I promise.”

“I know you would, Kitty-girl. And I hope you find the life you want for yourself. College and all. But me, this is my life. Back there, I’m Uriah Nickens, the nigger-boy dropout nothing. If I’m lucky, maybe I get me a job cleaning some white man’s toilets. Here, I’m Preacher, President of the South Side Kings. And you know what, baby sis? I’d rather die where I stand than live back where I came from.”

1959 October 06 Tuesday 12:52

The sky had broken its morning promise. A dull, leaden rain slanted down with the self-assurance of an experienced conqueror. A pink-and-black ’58 Edsel Corsair swayed down the two-lane blacktop, yawing badly at each curve. The turnoff was unmarked, but the driver had been thoroughly briefed, and recognized the lightning-scarred trunk of what had once been a magnificent white-oak tree.

The Edsel slowed considerably as the blacktop turned to hard-packed dirt, passing ramshackle houses so deteriorated a stranger to the area would have thought them abandoned. The houses were scattered carelessly, like garbage tossed from the window of a passing car. Just like home, the driver thought. Only I don’t live here anymore.

The house at the top of a rise was little more than a cabin, but it looked well maintained, with a fresh coat of barn-red paint and a cedar-shake roof, faded to a soft gray. The surrounding yard was more forest than lawn, with a wide swath of macadam laid through it, branching off to a detached two-car garage.

The Edsel pulled up to the garage, and Ruth Keene, proprietress of Locke City’s finest whorehouse, stepped out.

The door to the cabin opened; Detective Sherman Layne stood there a long moment. Then he walked over to her.

1959 October 06 Tuesday 13:31

“Can I talk to you?”

“You talking to me now,” Moses said to Rufus.

“Not like this. I want to sit down with you.”

“After work,” the elderly man said.

“You want to meet me at-”

“You know where I got my little office?”

“There?”

“After work,” Moses said, again.

“I don’t like talking business with so many white people around.”

“When’s the last time you saw any white people down there?”

“Fair enough, what you say. But… this is private, man.”

“So’s my office.”

Rufus looked into the old man’s eyes. Stubborn old mule, he thought. But he’s holding the case ace, here. And he knows it. “Thanks, Moses,” he said, humbly.

1959 October 06 Tuesday 13:33

“What is this?” Dett asked Tussy, touching a dark-green leaf lightly with his fork.

“That’s basil leaf. Sweet basil, they call it. When I make my tuna salad, I always put some across the top. It adds something to the flavor. And it looks pretty, too, the way parsley does. I always put a sprig of parsley when I serve anything. See that pot on the windowsill there? I grow the basil myself. You have to keep it indoors; it won’t survive a good frost.”

“It’s good,” Dett said, chewing the basil leaf slowly.

“Oh, you’re not supposed to eat it.”

“Why not?”

“I… I don’t know, now that you say it. That’s just what the waiter told me.”

“Where?”

“In this place where I went out to eat. An Italian restaurant. I had a veal cutlet, and this leaf was on it. I asked the waiter what it was, and he told me. So, later, I tried it myself. Putting it on food, I mean. I like to do that, try new stuff. Don’t you?”

“I guess I never think about it.”

“Maybe, working at the diner, I get the idea that food means a lot to people. They’re always talking about it, aren’t they?”

“Not the people I deal with.”

“Well, I guess people are different around here-we even have a Businessman’s Special at the diner. I had dinner with a man once, and he said it all went on his expense account.”

“Big spender,” Dett said, dryly.

“That’s what Gloria said! I mean, not the words, but the same way you said them.”

“Well, I thought women liked it if a man spent money on them.”

“Some girls do. You know what my mom always said? She said the man who spends a lot of money is all well and good to go on a date with; but the man who’s careful with his money, that’s the one you want to marry.”

“But the man you married-”

“Joey wasn’t careful with anything,” she said, sorrowfully. “But, by then, my mom wasn’t around for me to listen to.”

“Your father wouldn’t have liked him, either.”

“No, he sure wouldn’t,” Tussy said. “Daddy was always joking that I wouldn’t even be allowed to go out on dates until I was twenty-one. He didn’t mean it-I went to school dances with boys-but he looked them over careful, you can bet on that.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“Would you be that same way? If you had a little girl, I mean.”

“I’ll never have a little girl.”

“Why not? Plenty of men get married at-”

“I’ll never get married, Tussy,” he said.

In the silence that followed, Dett plucked the sprig of parsley from his plate and put it into his mouth.

“You’re a strange man,” Tussy finally said.

“Because I’ll never get married?”

“No, because you eat basil!” she snapped. “I think plenty of men are never going to get married. It’s probably more fun being a bachelor. But you’re the first man I ever met that I was… that I had a date with, that ever came right out and said it like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Well, come on! If you were a girl, and a man said he was never going to get married, would you go on seeing him? I mean, I know some girls would, if he was… generous and all. One of the girls who works at the diner, her boyfriend is already married. But…”

“I have to tell you the truth,” Dett said.

“Why?” Tussy said, getting to her feet and starting to clear the dishes. “Why do you have to tell me the truth?”

“I… I’m not exactly sure, Tussy. But I know I have to.”

“But you still ask me to go out with you? Even though you’re never going to be my… boyfriend, even? Because, if you want a girl just for… fun, I’m not her.”

“I know that.”

“How?” she demanded. “How do you know all these things?”

“I promise to tell you,” Dett said. “I have to tell you, or this would all be for nothing. But I can’t do it now.”

Tussy snatched Dett’s empty plate from the table and brought it over to the kitchen sink. She stood there, with her back toward him, and said, “You’re never coming back again, are you? To Locke City, I mean?”

“No.”

“It would be easy to lie. Just say you might be. In your business, that’s always possible. Something like that.”

“It would be a lie.”

“What do you want from me, then?” she said, turning to face him. Her mouth was set in a firm line, but her green eyes glistened with tears.

“I want to tell you my story,” he said. “I waited a long time.”

“For what?”

“To find you,” Dett said.

1959 October 06 Tuesday 13:38

“This place is really… impressive,” Ruth said. “I never saw a house built like it, one huge room, with no walls.”