Andrew Vachss - Down in the Zero

Sonny .

"TKO in the first round," I told her.

She threw me a "What the hell are you talking about?" look.

"It's just right," I explained. "Exactly what the kid needs," I told her, kissing her just to the side of her mouth. "You did great. How much was it?"

"Couldn't it be my gift too, Burke? I think it's so great he's going to be doing something…for him self , you know?"

"We'll split it," I told her. "How much?"

"Well, it was a rush job. And I really had to stay on their case. I know it's his right size… I got one of his jackets from— "

"How much, Fancy?"

She shifted her feet, like a guilty little girl. "About three hundred."

"Jesus!"

"Well, you said— "

"It's okay, girl," I said, reaching in my pocket. I handed her a yard and a half, thinking she didn't care enough about money but she sure knew other people did. A sweet and classy thing for her to do. For her to feel.

"You really like it?" she asked.

"He'll get pre–orgasmic just putting it on," I assured her.

"Ummm…"

"Never mind, bitch. You coming to the races?"

"Oh, could I?"

"Sure. Don't you want to see how he likes the jacket?"

"Yes. But I didn't want to— "

"You won't. How about if you keep it with you? Until then? I don't want him to see it up front."

"Okay. Uh…Burke?"

"What?"

"I got you something too."

"Fancy…"

"Just wait, all right? Come on out back. To the greenhouse. It'll look better there." She held out her hand, then pulled me along like a kid wanting to show off a school project. "Close your eyes and hold out your hand," she said as soon as we went into the greenhouse. I gave her a look, but went along. "Not that one," she said, pushing my left hand away, taking my right. I felt her run her fingers gently over my hand, exploring.

"What are all these little white scars?" she asked. "Around these two knuckles?"

"I broke it open once."

"How?"

"I hit a brick wall. Hard."

"Oh God! Because you were angry?"

"Because I missed— the other guy ducked."

"Ugh! Well, this will make it look better. Hold still."

I felt her slip something on my right ring finger, kept my eyes closed as she turned my hand back and forth. "Look!" she said.

The ring was heavy, a soft, dull silver–gray. Platinum, I guessed. Supporting a fat, glistening diamond set in its center.

"Damn!"

"You like it, honey?"

"I…don't know what to say. It's a monster."

"Just over two carats. I put a string around your finger while you were asleep."

"Fancy, something like this must have— "

"So what? It's my money. I want you to have it. You don't wear any jewelry…at least I've never seen any.

"It…wouldn't go with what I do."

"That's not it, is it? Not really. It's like the tattoo— you don't want to mark yourself. You don't want people to know anything about you just by looking."

"Maybe."

"Well, this is just like the tattoo, honey. The one you gave me. You can try it. And you can always take it off, yes?"

"Yeah, but…"

"You're worried that it would make people…greedy?"

"No. Hell, it's so big, it doesn't look real. Any decent mugger would take it for C.Z."

"C.Z.?"

"Cubic zirconia. Man–made."

"Not a chance. Here— hold it up to the light."

It was like someone put a stick of dynamite inside a rainbow and set it off— the colors exploded in lancing shafts of brilliance. I held it almost at arm's length, hypnotized by the icy flames.

"See the fire?" she whispered. "The fire inside?"

"There's no fire inside," I told her. "That's a myth. Diamonds don't have any light of their own. They bend the light— that's why they don't work in the dark."

"I don't get it."

"Only living things have light," I said. Thinking: Living things have dark, too.

Back inside, on her couch, shades drawn. "Do I smell…musty to you?" she asked, leaning close.

"You smell like a lot of perfume."

"I know. I was trying to cover it up."

"What?"

"I didn't want to take a bath. Like I always do. Soaking in the tub. I was afraid it would come off…the tattoo."

"It'll come off eventually, no matter what you do."

"I know. But it worked. Already. It made Charm crazy. Early this morning, when she came over."

"I don't get it."

"Remember when you met her? How I was sitting out back with my skirt up? The look she gave me? I told you, that look wasn't about me, it was about you. I hate that. She thinks she knows everything about everybody."

"It bothers you so much, that Charm would think I'm a trick?"

"Not just that. I mean, it's bad enough, she would think that. Like I couldn't have someone unless I…dominated them. You understand?"

"That nobody would want you unless you did a domina routine? That's insane, Fancy You're a beautiful woman, and you— "

"But she knows me. She knows I don't have sex. I have…male friends. But they're friends, you know? I have a good friend, Reggie. He's gay, but he doesn't flame— you'd never pick him out of a crowd. That doesn't bother Charm."

"Because she knows you don't have sex with him?"

"Because she knows about him, okay? She knows the handle. What buttons to push."

"And you didn't want her to know mine?"

"She doesn't know yours, does she? I let her see it. The tattoo. Not up close, just enough. I let her stay here, right where you're sitting. I went back to the bedroom, like I was in the middle of changing clothes. I knew she'd follow me. She saw it. Asked me what that was, on my butt. I just told her, 'Never mind.' Then I kept getting dressed. I put on a thong under my skirt. Instead of underpants. She told me it looked slutty— I should put on something nicer. I told her, I was following orders. Your orders. It got her real upset. She asked me, was I working as a switch now. Flipping it around. I told her, I wasn't working at all— you were my boss. All the time."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Just to upset her. She's so in control, Charm. I could have her tied up, be whipping her, and she'd be smiling. Not because she likes it, she doesn't care. Because she was getting me to do things. Opening me up, seeing inside. Sometimes I feel like one of those dogs."

"You mean like with a collar and a leash?"

"No. I make the others do that, not me. One of those Pavlov dogs, where they ring the bell…?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ever do that, Burke? Hear the bell."

"I've heard that sound all my life," I said, reaching for her, the diamond on my hand sparkling against the bronze flesh of her thigh. "It always sounds like the bell for the next round."

On the drive back, I raised the kid on the car phone. "Where are you?"

"In the parking lot," he said. "By the deli. I wanted to pick up— "

"I'm heading back now. Meet me there."

He was waiting as I arrived, doing something with the Plymouth, peering into the open trunk. He looked up as I approached.

"Why didn't you tell me your mother was a patron of Crystal Cove?" I asked him, quick, before he could get set.

"I…didn't know. What's a patron?"

"A supporter. Financial."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.' What's between her and Barrymore?"

"I don't know."

"But you know there's something, right?"

"I…guess so. He used to…come over to the house. A long time ago."

"Sonny, listen good, okay? Your mother never told you to get in touch with Barrymore? If there was any trouble…?"

"No. She never said. Just you."

"Okay, kid. It's probably a false alarm anyway. You gonna be working on the car for a while?"

"Yeah. The fuel cell, how can you tell if it's full? I mean, does the gas gauge— ?"