Andrew Vachss - Sacrifice

Mama loomed over my shoulder, putting her finger to her lips, smiling indulgently at her prize pupil. "Luke, remember what Mama tell you…blackjack a secret, yes?"

"I don't like secrets," the boy said, his voice dropping a register, eyes flickering.

"It's okay, Luke," I said, shooting a warning look at Mama. "There's no secrets here. Nobody's going to give you secrets. Mama was only playing."

"Playing?"

"Yeah. Like joking. Understand?"

His eyes flickered again. "Can I have some duck, Mama?"

Mama only serves duck about once a week— says it's a real pain to prepare properly.

"Sure, baby. Maybe some prawns too?"

"Yes!"

"Good baby," Mama said, reaching over to muss his hair.

106

While Teresa was downstairs with Luke, Max came in. Sat across from me, watching.

The phone rang in the back. Mama came to the table. "For you," she said. "Sunny man."

"It's me," I said, picking up the receiver.

"It is me too, mahn. With some news for you. I spoke to those people. Tomorrow night, you know Corona?"

"Yes."

"On Astoria Boulevard, city side of Ninety-fourth, a few blocks down, you will see an old drive-in. Hamburger joint, abandoned now. Drive there, midnight. They will meet you, take you to her."

"Okay."

"You have her property, mahn?"

"Yes."

"Sure. You understand."

"Can I bring a friend?"

"You are, mahn. Clarence will meet you there too."

"Clarence is afraid of those people."

"Everyone is, mahn."

107

I explained it all to Max. Slowly. Usually, he gets things as sharp as anyone who hears, but he was playing it dumb. Like he does when he doesn't like what I'm saying. He kept trying to deal himself in. I kept shaking my head.

Mama came back, sat down with us, a paper bag in her hands.

"Bonds all gone," she said.

"That was damn fast— you score ten points?"

"Not all. Three hundred for us."

"Elroy gets a hundred, Mama. But it's still a giant hit."

Mama bowed. Put the money on the table, shuffled it like a casino dealer, spun it into piles. Three stacks, a hundred grand in each. Brushed one to the side, Elroy's money. I counted off five grand, handed it to Max. He gets ten points for deliveries. That's what he does, deliveries. Guaranteed. I made the signs for Elroy. Max's thin lips curled— he clapped his first two fingers hard against his thumb, like jaws snapping. I knew what he meant: yak yak yak. He pointed at me, made the sign of driving a car. He'd have to borrow mine to make the delivery. I nodded okay. Then he made the sign of dialing a phone— also my responsibility to tell the maniac Max was on his way. Okay again.

I fanned out the five grand I'd set aside for Max, looking hard at Mama. She knew the rules— she was just as responsible for the money getting back to Elroy as I was. Besides, she probably clouted the bonds for three-fifty or even four hundred and we both knew it.

Finally, she nodded. "Oh yes, pay fair share, okay?" Handed over five grand of her own.

I took twenty for myself, pushed the rest over to Mama. "For the bank, okay?"

"Okay."

She leafed through her money, still keeping the stacks separate. Counted off a bunch of bills, handed them to Max, making the sign of rocking a baby. "For Flower, yes?" she said, looking at Max, talking to me.

Max bowed his thanks.

Mama smiled. "Fair share, yes?" And counted off some of my money, handed it to Max.

He gravely bowed to me as well.

Mama counted off still more money, looking at me. "For Luke, yes? To pay the woman downstairs."

"Lily's taking care of that, Mama."

Her eyes went agate. "Our house, our family, we pay."

Max dropped his eyes from the challenge, handed over his entire stack of money. Mama took some, handed the rest back. Looted my pile again.

Finally, she smiled. Got up and left.

108

Max wasn't going to lose two in a row, renewing his demands to come along to my meeting. I made the sign for Lily. For Storm, Immaculata, Wolfe. It took a long time. I pounded my fists together, conflict. Pulled them apart. Separation. Then I pointed at Max. Tapped my heart. Locked two hands together. We wouldn't be separated, he and I, okay? His time would come.

Finally, he nodded.

I went into the back to call Elroy.

"It's me," I said by way of greeting.

"Hey, Burke! Is Pansy in heat? I mean, Barko ain't been himself, man. Don't want to pull his load, nothing. He needs his woman, buddy. Give my boy a break."

"Look, fool. I called you about something else. Everything's all set, okay? You'll get what's coming to you real late tonight…maybe two in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…You gonna bring Pansy?"

"I'm not coming. I'm sending my brother…and don't say his name on the phone."

"Oh, the Chinaman who don't talk? You sending him? I heard he does deliveries…"

Fucking moron.

"Just calm down, all right? He'll be driving my car. And keep those damn dogs out of his way.

"Sure, sure. But when you gonna…?"

I hung up on him.

109

Eleven-thirty. I made a slow circuit of the empty drive-in at the wheel of the Plymouth. Nothing. Max and I lit cigarettes, smoking in silence. He'd reopened the argument on the way out to Queens, and we'd reached a compromise.

I was wearing a dark suit, white shirt, black tie. Unarmed— not even a knife. Max was dressed in his thin-soled black shoes, baggy white pants, a white T-shirt. A better target if that's what they wanted. He's never weaponless.

The immaculate green Rover pulled in a few minutes later. Clarence killed his lights, got out of the car, lounged against a fender, his body not quite making contact with the metal.

I popped the trunk. Max and I got out, walked around to the back. I took the package in my arms. We walked over to Clarence.

"Clarence, this is my brother, Max the Silent."

Max bowed.

Clarence extended his hand, slim and delicate. Max took it in his bone-crusher of a paw, shook.

"Let's put this in your trunk," I said to Clarence.

His eyes were distressed, but he said nothing. Unlocked the trunk, didn't look as we put the bag inside.

"I heard of you," Clarence said to Max.

Max bowed again.

"He really doesn't talk?" Clarence asked me.

"Not with his mouth," I told him.

A black Chevy Caprice rolled into the lot, followed closely by its twin. A tall, slim black man got out of the passenger seat of the lead car, walked toward us. He was dressed exactly as I was except his tie was string-thin. And he had a tiny red ribbon in his lapel.

"Mr. Burke?" he asked.

"That's me."

"You will come with us, please?"

"Yes."

"And your friends, they will come too?"

"Only one friend," I said, nodding at Clarence. "My brother will be leaving."

"Certainly."

Max closed the gap between him and the messenger, gliding without a sound. He stared at the man's face, eyes slitted, memorizing. He bowed slightly. Moved over to the cars, walking around them front to back, taking it in.

"Would you ask your people to get out of their cars?" I asked politely.

"Certainly," he said again. Walked over to the driver's window of one car, then another. They lined up in the darkness, all dressed alike. Max stared deep into the face of each one, bowed his thanks. Squeezed my shoulder, climbed into the Plymouth, and took off.

"Will you come with us now?" the man asked.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Very well," he said, gesturing toward the lead car.

"Hold up, mahn," Clarence said, his voice barely under control. "I'm not leaving my ride out here for some thief to steal. I'll just drive right behind you, okay?"

The messenger smiled. "Yes, you and your friend can follow me. You have nothing to fear."