Swing State (11 page)

19.

W
EDNESDAY.
A
RTIE WORKING.
W
ANTED TO TALK
to him. And Auto Emporium.

And say hello. Hadn't since the Sox game. Too embarrassed. The calls. Should have picked up. Said sorry, man. Listen, it's tough. Nothing personal. Something. Artie would understand. Always had. All the dumb high school shit. Not jumping. Trying honors. Never gave him shit. Could've. Like kids in his classes. Before he tried college prep. Saying he was too good for them. Wanted to say hey, I hate this shit. My great-aunt. She pays the bills. But that would remind everyone. The mom thing had gone away. Really bad for a while. Then she died. Couldn't believe it. How sad he was. Didn't like her. They saw. Maybe in the paper. Or on him. Had to put his shoulders back. Sorry about your mom. Now I won't be able to get a blo—Hit them. In the face. Hurt his hand. Felt good. Principal's office. What am I supposed to do with you? You've suffered this tragedy and you're acting out. He said I don't care. And he didn't. Detention, suspension. Do whatever you want. They're saying stuff about my mom. My dead mom. Calling her a whore. I'm not gonna take it. If I do they'll never stop. Royal, I—Roy said come on, you know. You must.

The principal stood up. Held his arm to the door. Go ahead. Go.

Never said anything when Artie was there. He could fight. Saw him once. At a party. Some guy grabbed Christa's ass. Artie tapped him on the shoulder. Dropped him. One punch. The guy's friend came over. Swung. Artie ducked. Hit him in the stomach. Kneed him in the face. Blood everywhere. Broke his nose. Kicked him on the ground. Looked around. Anyone else? Come on, Artie said to her. And him. Let's go. This party's a bunch of fucking homos.

Second walk to the garage was easier. Leg feeling stronger. Did it once before. Familiar. Still too long. A bike, maybe. Or a beater. Kept thinking about that. Buying a car. Couldn't drive. Scared. Too much. But wanted to. Maybe someday. Good job, good pay. Good apartment. Not think of the past all the time. Be in the now. Not worry. Get used to it. Sarge before they went. Let me tell you something. Every now and then I am sent a no-hope fuckup and I manage to turn him around before he hurts somebody. You were one of those fuckups, Eggleton. You might just make it.

Couldn't tell that to Auto Emporium. Maybe to Artie. His garage. Listen, man. I can learn anything. I got through basic. I got through the fucking desert. School. Graduated. Barely. Started failing classes. Hard to care. Even with Auntie Blake there. Royal, you need to think of your future. Hard to. Didn't want college. Even if he did, no money. Auntie Blake told him. If you do well enough, you may qualify for loans and grants. She talked about Plymouth, Durham, Keene. Never went to those towns. Concord a few times. On the way to Boston, mostly. But Artie. He met a girl from Concord. Always met girls. Didn't know how. Maybe the Internet. Never talked about it. Went down with him. Double date. Got one for you, my man. Horsey girl. Artie's girl's friend. She didn't like him. Walked around with her anyway. Artie and the girl in the car. Downtown at night.
Capital building. Gold dome. Car steamed up when they walked by. Laps around downtown. Not saying anything. Finally the car windows opened. They drove back. More than two hours. Any luck?

Wouldn't go even if he had the grades. Wouldn't go now that he had the GI Bill. Didn't know anyone who went. Except Auntie Blake. Look where she got: the same place as him. Nowhere Armbrister. No thanks. But he took her classes. She told him without telling him. She was like that. Liked the Army better. Told you what they wanted. You did it. Easy. Like working at a garage. Fix this.

Through downtown. Past the cheese shop. Beer place. Wished they had a bar instead. Have one after he saw Artie. Or lunch break. Come on man, I know a place. They could have beers. At a bar. Hadn't been with him yet. That time at Fenway was their first legal one. And he ruined it. AC/DC.

Check still hadn't come. He'd call. Wait another day. Hated it. Weren't people at the other end. Computers. Taking jobs. Made no sense. Asking which department. Speak clearly into the phone. Didn't understand no matter what. He was an American war veteran. Wanted to talk to an American. Not a computer. Took hours. No check.

Still had his quarters. Decided to get a beer last night, play a few games. Check would arrive soon. Ordered at the bar. Some kid came in. College. White hat. Asked Patterson if anyone played pool. She looked at Roy for a second. Didn't blow his cover, say this guy here. Instead, she said, loud, does anyone here play pool? Maybe she wasn't so bad. Could've said oh, Roy's here all the time. Didn't. Stood there at the bar. Played dumb. No one answered. Patterson finished pulling his Venerable. The kid stepped away. Well, Roy said. If no one else will I'll play with you.

Played lefty. Did okay. The kid was good, though. Beat him. Then again. Roy tried to win. Hard. Missed a few. Wasn't faking.
It helped. He knew it. Good players saw acting. He never acted. Wanted to beat everyone lefty. But happy to switch.

The kid said twenty bucks says I get the next game.

I only have fifteen, Roy said. Beer, games. A tip. But I have more in the ATM. Which was a lie. Which the kid would never know.

That's fine, the kid said. Tell you what. I'll put in twenty for your fifteen. Make things more fair. Sound good?

Roy nodded. Stupid kid. Lefty again. Too early to switch. Wanted it bad. Almost had him. Lost by one ball. Fucking fuck, he said. One fucking ball. And I'm out of money. Good job. Tell you what, the kid said. Best of three.

Roy said I don't know. How much a game?

Fifty a game, Roy said.

The kid said sure.

Roy broke. Still lefty. Lost by two balls. Kid said fifty bucks. On top of the fifteen you owe me.

I'll pay at the end. You can come to the ATM with me.

Last game, the kid said. Broke.

Roy said best of five.

Wanna bet?

Sure, Roy said. Double down. Hundred a game.

And the kid bit.

They shook on it.

He switched hands.

Kid knew right away. Cords stuck out of his neck.

Didn't even give him a shot.

One, two, three.

Hundred a game. Minus what I owe you. Pay up.

Had it. In his wallet. Roy didn't feel bad. Kid wouldn't miss it.

Let me buy you a beer.

The kid said I don't want your fucking beer. You hustled me.

Come by any time. Maybe I'll beat you lefty, too.

The kid's jaw clenched. Didn't say anything. Put on his coat. Left.

He'd tell Artie the story. Buy him a beer. Great time. Except there was nowhere but the beer supply store.

The beep, the bells on the door tinkled when he went inside.

Same lady as before at the counter. Hey, hon, she said. You back for Artie?

Yes, ma'am. Is he around?

She opened the door behind the counter and yelled ARTIE, SOMEONE HERE FOR YOU into the garage.

He'll be right over, she said.

Artie walked into the office wiping his hands on a rag. Grease. Roy, he said. Hey. Good to see you. What are you doing here?

Wanna get some lunch?

I'm in the middle of something, he said. How'd you get here, anyway?

Walked.

From Armbrister?

Isn't so bad, he said. Did it the other day, too.

The other day?

Oh, hon, I musta forgot to tell you your friend came by to see you.

So you came twice.

He nodded.

Sheila, I'm gonna take a few minutes to talk to my friend here. Have you met? Sheila, Roy; Roy, Sheila. She stuck out a chubby hand. He shook.

Hello.

Nice to meet you, Roy, she said. Take a few minutes to see your friend. Must be important for you to walk all the way out here. Twice.

Artie patted his chest. Looking for something. He said come outside, man. Walked out. Around the side, away from downtown. Kept patting. Pulled a lighter out from his coveralls. Cigarettes. Cold out here. Lit one up.

You smoke?

Yeah, I started. I'm breathing fumes all day anyway. Figured I might as well enjoy it.

Breathing fumes. Everything he did overseas was outside. Under a tent. In the open. Something. Never inside like Artie. Like Auto Emporium. Maybe he'd smoke. Doubted it. Expensive. Tried once. At a party. High school. Puked. No one saw.

I have a job lead, he said.

That's great! Where?

Auto Emporium.

The muffler place?

Yeah.

That's good work. Entry level.

What do you mean?

Oil changes, mufflers. Learn some stuff. Get a better job later.

I worked on trucks overseas

But you were infantry. It's hard to get a job unless you specialized.

How do you know?

Because I tried to get you in.

You did?

I thought it would be fun to work together. But Sheila, she said no. You have to get some experience first. It'd take too much time to show you everything. Cars and trucks are different, you know?

I guess.

Is that why you came?

Yeah. To ask about a job.

I never told you, man. I thought you'd get bummed out.

No, that's cool.

Is that why you came the other time, too?

Yeah.

Running out of money?

Tired of sitting around all the time. Got nothing to do.

You're living the life, man. Must be nice.

Boring. No friends. Don't know anyone. All I do is play pool. Listen to games. Walk around.

How's your leg?

Good. Better. I go to the library sometimes.

You reading?

Hard to concentrate. I look at manuals.

Manuals?

How to fix cars.

You've gotta get an interview, man. Ace it. Then we'll see what happens.

I'll try.

I think Sheila knows the guy. Achnad, something like that.

Ahmed.

Right.

Threw his butt down. Ground it under his boot heel. Let's go, man.

Where?

Inside. We'll talk to Sheila.

She was at the counter still. Remember I was talking to you about my friend who just got back? From Afghanistan? This is him. Roy Eggleton.

She put both hands on the counter. Well. I thank you for your service, and your country thanks you, too. Putting your life on the line for freedom.

He didn't know what to say. Felt weird. But good.

Roy has a lead at Auto Emporium.

They're expanding, she said. Opening a new one. Good place. Fast. Nice. She laughed. Nicer than this place.

Roy's been having a hard time finding work, Artie said. He worked on some trucks over there but didn't specialize.

It's tough out there, Sheila said. Maybe I can give Ahmed a call. See if that helps.

That would be great, he said.

If you get some time in a place like that under your belt you can do other things.

Yes, ma'am.

What have you been doing?

What?

Since you got back.

Oh. Um, looking for work.

What about money?

I get a little check.

Her head moved up and down. Hon, you look fine.

My leg. Bad enough to get sent back.

You're a lucky guy.

I guess, he said.

Luckier than Peck. He didn't get to live in a shitty apartment with no insulation. He didn't get to walk around with a limp. Peck didn't get to play pool because he had nothing else to do. Or walk eight miles each way to talk to his only friend. But it beat being dead. He thought. Maybe being dead was better.
Maybe Peck was in heaven having a great time playing the harp. Sitting on a cloud. If dead was better and no one alive knew they'd laugh when he got there. To heaven. He thought he might go there. Wasn't sure about God anymore after what he saw over there—did—but hopefully if there was one there was a free war pass like, okay, we understand you had to do some fucked up shit when you went over and it's what you did after that really counts. And before, too. After and before. Remembered some class—English it must've been—teacher talking about hell. Sounded bad. All the suicides went there. And the people who didn't worship God but were good people. Greeks. Maybe that was everyone who went to war.

Beats the alternative.

It does.

Well, Artie said.

You have to get back to work.

I do. Good to see you, though.

You too.

We should hang out.

Yeah. I'm sorry man after the game and the parking lot I just—

No worries, man. Good to see you again.

Nice to meet you again, Roy, Sheila said. I'll give Ahmed a call.

Thanks.

20.

T
ODAY AT WORK
D
ALTON FIGURED IT
out. He said did I hear Judy call you Dixon Dove? When I said yeah, he was like does that make Ross Dove your brother? I said yeah again, and he was like man, your brother is famous! I said whatever, but he kept saying that Ross is the best athlete in Armbrister sports history.

We were putting burgers together. He wanted to know where Ross is going to play. I told him he hasn't decided yet. Dalton started naming all these schools and one of them was Nebraska, so I told him about the recruiters. He said pros go there. And that everyone is rooting for Ross. I was like what? and he said yeah, everyone in town hopes he gets out.

He doesn't know Ross at all, but he feels like he knows him. Weird.

Dalton said he might be one of the best basketball players in Armbrister and look where it got him. He said hopefully I can get into some school and get out of town after I graduate. Even down to Durham would be cool. Get a degree, at least, not be stuck putting burgers together. But the pros? Never happen. Million to one. But everyone thinks your brother can go.

I thought about that the whole shift.

If I do get out of here—no, when I get out of here, I have to think about it like that, when—what am I gonna do? Go somewhere else and do the same thing. Flip burgers.

For me, getting out is going someplace new.

If Ross goes pro, he's set. If he doesn't, he'll still have a degree. The only way I can go to college will be by having enough money. If you have it, you can get out, but you don't need to.

* * *

I hit the parking lot after work.

I found a knife. It was in this jacked-up pickup covered with mud. I could've gotten a shotgun out of there if I wanted it.

The knife rules. It folds. Huge blade. The handles are covered with red jewels, and there's a little picture of an old car in the middle of the handle. I can carry it no problem.

No phones or iPads or anything like that. Just some wallets. No credit cards after what Ding told me. Just cash. About fifty bucks.

I might do just cash from now on, unless there's something too good to pass up, like an iPad. But that'll never happen again.

* * *

It was getting dark but I had a feeling, so I went up to the quarry and everyone was there.

I snuck up there and tried to sound like a cop when I heard everybody. I said all right, you kids, you're all under arrest. Everyone looked like they were going to shit themselves. I started laughing and they called me an asshole. Pretty funny.

Steve was like hey, working girl, how's the Burger Hut treating you? I said okay. Earl wanted to know if the old perv had grabbed my tits. I said not yet and everyone thought that was funny. Even Mary. I guess I was hoping she'd be up there by herself. I mean, I knew she wouldn't be, because it was almost dark, but you know.

I told them I hadn't seen him since the first day, when he interviewed me. I had one training shift left, and it was Judy's day off so I'd work with him then. Kelly said oh, Judy. I guess she used to work there. He was always trying to cop a feel off her. Her tits are way bigger than mine.

I asked her why he always did that and she said because he's a fucking perv and everyone laughed. I was like no, did you get more shifts or something?

She said what, are you gonna let him grab your tits? Everyone kinda looked at me. So I pulled the knife out and said he can grab this. They all started laughing again. Mary said did you always have that? and I was like you know.

Steve said it's too bad you have to miss the game this weekend. I said yeah, I know. I'm doing my last training shift, then my first real one. Earl told me I'd be making the big bucks. Steve said nah, you'll quit by the end of the week. I was like whatever. He said no, seriously. We'll see you for the game next Friday.

Everyone passed a flask so I took some pulls. Then Steve lit a joint and passed that, too, so I hit it. We didn't really talk about anything. I mean, we talked the whole time, but for me it was like I was listening to myself talk without hearing what I was saying. School and stuff. I went and sat next to Mary. It was getting pretty dark but I could feel her looking at me. It was a little weird, I think because we were there with people.

By the time the flask was empty it was dark. We all started walking home. It was hard because there was no moon and hardly any light so we had to look up and find the hole in the tree line and follow that. Mary said hey and I took her hand. She was cool with that but when I tried to kiss her she said no, someone might see. I was like it's dark. She said when are you working next week?
and I said I wasn't sure because the schedule hasn't been made yet. She said let me know and squeezed my hand.

* * *

When I got home I didn't hear anyone around. I went to the fridge and Ross came in and said you little bitch. I was like what? He said you know what. I said no and he hit me across the face. Not that hard—his hand was open. He said I can smell it on you. You're pinching off my stash. I was like no, I was at the quarry.

He said with who? and I told him Steve and Earl and Kelly and Mary and Arnold. He kinda grunted and was like bullshit, you pinched.

I was like do you have any whiskey? I knew he didn't have any, since the last time I was in his room, at least. He said no. So I blew in his face.

I said there. You believe me now?

He said you pinched. I was like I didn't. I smoked Steve's shit. Seriously.

He said sorry I hit you.

I said you're an asshole.

Then he asked me how long I've been smoking. I told him since I started hanging out with those guys. He said Steve is a dealer. I said yeah, I figured. He asked if I ever bought and I said no, I just smoke what they pass.

He looked at me for a minute and was like what about Ding?

I said what about him? He goes you ever buy from him? I said no. I never buy. Ross goes what about those fireworks? I said how'd you know about that? He kinda smiled. He was like come on, Dixon, everyone knows you're into blowing stuff up.

I was kinda surprised by that.

I told Ross I got the fireworks from Ding. He said what do you do to get them? I said I give him shit from cars. He looked surprised. I said I find stuff in cars and trade it for fireworks. Or used to. Now I'm saving money.

Then he goes if you're not pinching my stash it's either Mom or Don. I was like you smoke a lot. He said no, seriously. I said get a new hiding place and he said I move it all the time but it keeps getting smaller. I thought it was you.

I told him it wasn't.

I said Mom works too much for that.

He said it must be Don.

He's probably stressed about going back. But pinching sucks.

Hopefully he smokes so much he can't hit me any more.

I asked Ross what he was gonna do. He said what can I do? Keep trying to hide it. Maybe get a lock for my door. Or a safe. But then if I do that Mom will ask what I have to hide. I said say it's to keep me out. He said it won't matter.

So now I'm worried about my stashes. About this.

I'm going to put the tape in a different place than the recorder.

And I shouldn't bring anything home. Just cash. And I'll hide it in a bunch of places.