Pistol Fanny's Hank & Delilah (44 page)

“Hank, if you ever come here again, or any place like it, she swears she’s going to have to hurt you so you can’t anymore. She’d rather do it, and see you walk away, than have you come around here again and not walk away at all. You don’t know these people, and you don’t know what’s going on. You have to stop. You have to stop putting your hand on her trigger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He quickly glanced at Rotunda before he turned his attention back to his main source of ire.

Curly cleared his throat. “I remembered hearing it. Just didn’t know where it came from.”

Rotunda waited for Pistollette to nod. “It means, Honey Hole, that you’ve got her in a precarious situation. You’ve got the gun aimed at her heart, fully loaded and ready to blow, and you have your hand on her trigger. The trigger of her own weapon! And no one, I mean no one, puts hands on her trigger. No one puts a finger on their triggers.”

“Stay out of my business, Pistollette,” Hank said.

Pistollette took the envelope and opened it. She dug through a few. When she came to one, all the rest fell out of her hands. Hank had never seen her drop anything or lose control. She was human after all. She looked at the picture. She looked at Hank. Her fingers started tapping so hard on Rotunda’s that Rotunda had to ask her to slow down. The girls all gathered around.

“What do your friends call you, Hank?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a nickname you go by?”

Hank looked at Barb and Curly. They shrugged. “Toots. Why?”

“I see.” Rotunda took the picture that stopped Pistollette and showed it to Hank. “What’s this man’s name?”

“I don’t know.” Hank paused. “We named him REO.”

“Honey Hole, Pistollette wants you to go to this hotel.” She gave him the information. Told him there was a Denny’s next door. And a payphone. “Stay put, you hear? No more visits to these people. You just don’t understand. You were one step away from being blown away. He was going to kill you, Honey Hole. The other one, he’s meaner and he won’t stop. Not for nothin’ in this world.”

Hank looked at Pistollette. “I can’t stop. I won’t stop. I refuse to stop. Shoot me if you want, but it still won’t stop me unless I’m dead and buried. I have to save my family.”

And then for the first time, he turned his back and walked away from her.

A
little after midnight and Hank couldn’t sleep. Light snoring and heavy breathing added to his insomnia. He planted his feet on the floor, threw on his
Sweet as Tupelo Honey
hoodie, put his baseball cap on backward, and went for a walk.

The moon was full and high, the stars out full force—backup dancers in the worlds’ most glorious show—the wind low and smooth. It was a gorgeous, gorgeous night. For so many things. Better things than this. A night like this one was meant for truth, for love and the making of it, not for last appeals.

Hank meandered out in the hotel’s parking lot for a while, trying to figure out what to do. He stared up at the moon, walked in circles, looked for pennies on the ground. He passed the hotel, the Denny’s, went straight for the florescent lights of a twenty-four/seven convenience store filled with drifters and stale donuts. He spun a wire rack full of post cards, scanning quickly through all the little souvenirs from the Queen’s City. He bought himself a large cup of coffee and a pack of spearmint gum. And then he took the rest of his cash and went next door to the Suds & Skids Washateria.

Tired and bleary faces looked up at him and away from their spin cycles when he walked in. An eighties-style particleboard hung on the wall in the back by the change machine. A handmade sign asked: “Have you seen my better half?” A set of bloomers, old granny panties, hung from a lime green tack. Socks were hanging around it, like pictures on wanted signs.

A young girl had her baby sitting on top of one of the washers in a car seat, asleep. Hank tried a couple of times to put his money in the change machine, but it kept spitting it out.

“The other one works better,” the young girl said softly. “It’s not as fickle.”

Hank nodded and smiled, taking a gander at the little baby, who was wrapped in all pink. Hank thought she looked just like a little angel. She had a head full of thick, light brown hair and lashes that were so long and black, they curled. Her lips were full and pouty, even though she smiled in her sleep. Hank had to take a deep breath, pushing down everything he felt rising.

“She has her days and nights mixed up,” the young girl said, seeing him eye the baby. “I’ve tried everything and only the washer will do. She sleeps every time I come here during the day. I figure, why not try at night, when she’s supposed to be sleeping? The problem is, I can’t sleep here. So, I’m up no matter what.” She yawned.

Hank cleared his throat. “My Mother said my brother used to be the same way. She would drive around with him in the car until he fell asleep. When she’d go to take him out, he’d wake and cry again. Then my Granny told her to bathe him at night, right before bed, and that seemed to calm him.”

The girl looked up at the ceiling, taking a moment to answer him. “You know, I never thought about that. I always give her a bath earlier on in the day. Smart. You’re going to be a great father, if you don’t already have kids. Maybe you do and that’s why you’re so smart with babies.” She laughed.

“My…well, she’s…” Hank made a circling motion around his stomach.

“Oh, well, congratulations then, Daddy. Are you out making a late-night fetch for your lady?”

“You could call it that.”

The girl smiled. “Good luck then.”

Hank tried the other machine. Finally his cash was traded for some jingle. Oh, how fate could be just as beautiful as tragic, Hank thought as he made his way across the parking lot. There he was, finally completing the same exact chore he was meant to when Pistollette came storming into his bank. Weeks later, he did it in a Suds & Skids Washateria, in an unknown city, chasing after thugs who wanted to kill him, having no idea where the love of his life was with his baby.

At the payphone, he set his coffee down. Steam rose in the cool night’s air, like hot air from a mouth. He took out a few quarters from his pocket. He heard the dial tone and then inserted his money. He wasn’t sure how much it was going to cost, but he figured he’d start with what he had.

He punched in Delilah’s number and held his breath when it started to ring. He started breathing heavily when he heard her voice, but it was just her voicemail asking him to leave a message because she was busy makin’ pancakes. There was a long beep and Hank steadied his breath, got comfortable. He leaned his weight into the machine’s body, one arm above his head. He rested his head against the soft fabric of his sweater.

“Hello, darlin’, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been trying to sort out my feelings. It’s funny how men do that. Sort out their feelings. It doesn’t always occur to us just how we feel right away. Not like you women seem to have the ability to do. It’s something how ya’ll seem to have that over us, don’t you think? Our feelings can sort of creep up on us, and we sometimes wonder how we even missed it.

“Men, we have a lot of pride, and most of the time the words just come out all wrong. We truly don’t mean them to, but they just do. I know mine do. Especially when it comes to you. If I’m being honest, I just always want to say the right things. The prettiest words to you. And it somehow just comes out all backwards. I sometimes feel like I’m a big freight train steaming backwards on the track. I’m headed for a cliff I can’t even see.

“I just have so many things to say, and now that I’m here standing at this payphone, I’m wondering why we just don’t always say what’s on our minds? I can feel the freedom already, knowing everything in my heart I’m going to say. It’s like my heart has wings and I’m flying high. I get angry and frustrated and I chew on my damn gum instead of chewing on the situation.” Hank paused for a minute, taking out two pieces of gum, chasing away the flavor of the coffee. “Now listen, darlin’, I know you can’t hear me yet, but I want to leave this for you.”

Hank smiled into the receiver. “I loved you the moment I saw you. Did you know that? When you came out of the convenience store, I swore I was swept up in some kind of reckless storm. You carried me wherever you wanted me to go. Even though you had all the power, carrying me like you did, I wanted to go more than I wanted anything else in my life. I said a silent prayer when I followed you into Jo’s that you would take me with you, wherever you were going. Your way was my way. I see now, after all my thinking, that I’ve always loved you. Even before that day. I’ve loved you all my life, is the plain truth.

“I told the boys once that you were my air. I can’t breathe without you. Believe me, I can’t breathe without you, darlin’. In that tiny moment when my life was in your hands, I didn’t quite understand it. I just knew if you walked away, I’d never be the same. Then, when we were in your kitchen and you were makin’ me late-night pancakes, I realized you were the air that kept me living. You invigorated me. I understood then how gone I’d be without you. In California, when you walked out of the room, looking so beautiful, I realized it again. You stole my breath and then gave it right back to me. Like I was the one holding it. You’re magical, that’s what you are.

“See how slow we can sometimes be? But it gets better. Tonight, I was walking around this parking lot, still sorting, thinking about after we first met, and we stopped at that little place to buy me and Curly more clothes, and I caught you staring at me.” Hank’s smile beamed from ear to ear when he thought of her face. How she was creeping past, staring like she had never seen a man before.

“Well, I think it was then that my heart was truly gone. The thought passed in my head, and instead of catching it, I was too lost to do anything right then. All these realizations are me falling in love with you—over and over. I would do anything for you. God Almighty, I’d do whatever you asked me to. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

Hank turned around with the cord, looking around the parking lot for a split second. He took another deep breath, feeling the burn in his mouth from the cool air, and the mint from the gum.

“I went somewhere today, Delilah. I think that’s why I have all this sorting on my mind. I went to see that monster of a man I told you about. When you dig up your past, you wouldn’t believe the old feelings that come alive. I know you know about that, so I’m sure you can believe it. I wasn’t prepared for that day in the woods. I never saw that coming. When I thought I was going to die, it was ridiculous thoughts that went through my mind.

“I was a kid, and kids have a funny way of looking at life. What’s important, what’s not. I know what’s important now. And I wanted to say all those things if I would’ve known you then, I would’ve thought of, or maybe have said to myself. I always thought I was a man. But the truth is, you’ve turned me into one. Men know what they want, they stand up for it, and they fight for it. I’m fighting for you, Delilah.”

Hank paused for a second to hold down those feelings again. “I’m really happy, darlin’. About the baby.” And then he coughed, trying not to cry. His tears fell anyway. He wiped them away on his sleeve. “I want you and that baby to be together…well, more than I want the air I breathe. I want to take you to your doctor appointments and hold your hand. I want to take care of you and bring you whatever you want, anytime you want it. I bet you want pickles. I want to know if it’s a boy or a girl more than the air I breathe, Delilah. I want to hear the names you love. I want to know you’re going to be fine, more than I want the air I breathe.

“God gave me this air I breathe. He gave me you. And He doesn’t make mistakes, Delilah. You were made for me. I was made for you. One more day with you would be everything. Then again, it would never be enough… God Almighty, I miss you. I don’t know where in the world you are tonight, darlin’… I need you to save me too. I wish you’d come and find me. I wish there was a house I could tear down so you’d come back for me like you did.” Hank’s voice was unsteady, breaking. His laugh was off. “I hope you get this soon. I love you and that little lucky ticket. My lucky ticket.”

He hesitated before he hung the receiver back on the base. When he did, he sank to the ground and sat with his head in his hands, between his knees. He felt like she had appeared in some way and then walked away from him again. Always walking away, always blowing away from him. The nail never strong enough to keep them bound together. He knew he needed more than just a nail. He needed cement because she was his home. He was trying to nail down a home with one rusty nail. Hennessey never gave any advice on foundations and cementing. Hank wished he had. He seemed to be the only man to keep one of them grounded for so long.

As Hank sat there, a noise startled him enough to make him open his eyes.

“Psst. Hey, you, Mr. with a nice smile.” It was the young girl from the Washateria, the baby seat dangling from her tiny hands. She bent forward, producing a piece of paper from her free hand. “I think this was meant for you. It started off by the payphone and tumbled my way when the wind kicked. If not, I guess it’s just litter. Wouldn’t be so strange ’round these parts.”