George Pelecanos - Soul Circus

“This was something else,” said Quinn. He stared straight ahead, unable to look at his friend. “It never would have happened, I had my gun.”

“Nah, see, you don’t even want to be considering that. You had your gun, you’d a killed someone and got yourself some lockdown, or got your own self killed. Either way, you’d be fucked.” Strange put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Look, man, I don’t have time for all this now. I got to find that girl and her kid. Time to visit McKinley. You with me?”

“Let’s go,” said Quinn.

“I’ll follow you,” said Strange.

BERNARD Walker lit the candles on the first floor of the house on Atlantic and put a couple on the steps going up to the second floor. He came back into the living room, where Dewayne Durham sat at a card table ending a call. Durham flipped the cell phone closed and placed it on the table.

The house was oddly quiet. Dewayne had sent out all his people to work the school on Mississippi. He had told Walker that he didn’t want him playing that beat box tonight like he liked to do, and Walker had complied. So it was just the two of them and the silence now.

Dewayne nodded at the cell. “I just called my brother at the girl’s place. He ain’t there.”

“Maybe he’s taking a shower,” said Walker.

“He better be. What he better not be is out. I told him to sit tight.”

Durham rubbed his face and stood, walking into the hall that led to the galley kitchen and the door at the rear of the house. Walker followed. They stood beside each other and looked across the darkened alley at McKinley’s house on Yuma. All of McKinley’s people, it looked like they were out working, too.

McKinley had the lights on all over the first floor. Though the front of the house had wood in its windows, there wasn’t any plywood on the back windows, only curtains, and most of those had been torn down. They could see McKinley walking around in there slowly, gesturing to someone who was half his size.

“There go the Candyman right there,” said Walker. “Looks like… Shit, he’s got a woman with him.”

“Ain’t like him to be any goddamn where without that boy Monkey,” said Durham. “Much less with a woman.”

“He don’t know how to treat a woman no way,” said Walker.

Durham squinted. “Zu? Why is it we’re in here lightin’ candles and shit, worried about the police, when fat boy is over there with all the lights burning bright?”

“He’s bold, I guess.”

“Right,” said Durham. “He is bold. Just ain’t right, how bold he is.”

Walker felt his stomach rumble. “I’m hungry. Thirsty, too. You want to go out for a while, pick up somethin’?”

“Need to rest, think some,” said Durham. “I’m gonna go upstairs and lay out on that mattress for a while.”

“Aiight, then.”

“Swing by Mississippi, get the money from the troops while you’re there.”

“Anything else?”

“Bring me back a couple of sodas,” said Durham, “and a Slim Jim.”

“DAMN, boy, I am hungrier than a motherfucker.” McKinley punched in numbers on his cell, got the pizza joint on the line, was put on hold. “Girl, you want anything?”

“No.”

“We gonna be here awhile.”

“I don’t want no pizza.”

“Suit yourself.” The sucker who worked at the pizza place got back on, and McKinley ordered two pies with meat and a rack of super-sized sodas. He didn’t think he could eat two pizzas by hisself, but they had a special on, saved you money when you bought two. And you never could have too much soda round the house.

McKinley gave the sucker his address.

Devra was sitting on the hardwood floor of the living room, her back against the chipped plaster wall. Her purse was beside her; McKinley had checked it out and found nothing but her keys that she could hurt him with, and he had reasoned that she would never try. McKinley shut his phone down and put it in a holster he kept clipped to his side. He walked to Devra and stood over her. He noticed she had coiled up some as he approached.

McKinley’s warm-up top was zipped down and open, showing the wife-beater he wore underneath. He’d let his chains hang out. His new gun, the Sig.45, was under the waistband of his pants, the grip slanted and tight on his belly. The girls liked ice and automatics, this he knew.

Devra met his eyes, then took in the rest of him. He was sweating, and his fat belly was spilling out over his drawers, looked like dough was gonna swallow up that gun of his.

“You could sit in a chair,” said McKinley.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to make it too hard on yourself, girl. Ain’t like I got you chained up or nothin’ like that. You free to walk around. We just gonna sit tight together for a while till you come to your senses.”

“I want my son.”

“You’ll get him, too. Tell me you’re not gonna talk to that man no more, and I’ll put y’all back together. Tell me for real, though, ’cause I won’t take no more lies. I’ll keep you here for a couple of days, till they’re done crossing your old boyfriend Phil, and you can go free.”

“All’s we was doin’ was havin’ some ice cream.”

“That again? Shit. Fine as you are, I don’t believe you even eat ice cream.” McKinley smiled again, showing her his teeth. The girls liked that, too. “Look here, I’m sorry for touchin’ you rough yesterday. That don’t mean we can’t be friends today .”

“Mother fuck er,” said Devra, feeling her eyes get teary and trying to hold it in. “Why can’t you just… just leave me alone.”

“Damn, girl, you don’t have to get all upset.” McKinley rolled his shoulders. “Just sit your ass there, then. Don’t say nothin’, you can’t say nothin’ nice.”

McKinley walked away, wondering why the women did him like that. The only girls he’d had lately he’d had to pay for. Didn’t make any difference to him. Pussy was pussy. One way or another, it cost you money.

A half hour later, the pizza delivery boy arrived. McKinley undid the chain, flipped the dead bolt, and opened up the door. Boy was wearin’ some stupid-ass-striped shirt, looked like a barber pole. He put the pizzas and the sodas inside the door while McKinley counted out some money. He gave him two quarters on top of the bill. Boy didn’t even say thank you or nothin’. He had been staring kind of wide-eyed into the house the whole time he was standing out there on the stoop. Prob’ly looking at the girl, like any girl could go for him. Looked like a scared animal or something. Sucker with a minimum-wage job, out here armed with nothin’ but pizza, risking his neck at night with everything going on. Maybe he was seeing his future, why his eyes were wide. Boy was right to be scared.

McKinley closed the door and picked up the boxes that had been laid at his feet.

“Sure you don’t want none of this? It’s better when it’s hot.”

The girl didn’t answer, hugging herself against the wall.

McKinley said, “Suit your own damn self.”

STRANGE and Quinn were in the Caprice on Yuma, a half block down from the McKinley house, parked behind Quinn’s Chevelle. They watched the pizza boy deliver a load to the house and they watched him go back to his car, a rusted-out Hyundai.

As he pulled away, Strange ignitioned the Caprice and followed the delivery boy down to 9th. The Hyundai cut right on Wahler and headed toward Wheeler Road. At the stop sign at Wheeler, as the delivery boy slowed down, Strange goosed the gas and pulled up alongside the Hyundai on its left side. Strange honked his horn to get the driver’s attention. Quinn was already leaning out, his license case flipped open, holding it face out so the driver could see.