Bad People (31 page)

Luke smiled wanly, not looking at S/D now, but to something on the counter to his left. He brushed a crumb or something aside, then straightened the block holding kitchen knives so that it was perpendicular to the counter edge. “Whatever you say…dude.”

S/D decided to go back to his room and get his jacket after all, he might be out awhile. He decided to take his iBook too, despite already having password-protected it. Leaving it there didn’t even feel comfortable.

When he had everything packed up to go he turned and opened the door. Luke was standing there—practically right up against it—one hand hidden from view behind himself. “Jesus!” said S/D in shock. “What do you want now?”

“Forgot this,” he said. He took something, a small card, out of his pocket and pushed it toward S/D. “It’s only got ten dollars on it but I’ll never us it. Take it.”

“That’s okay.”

“For when you’re studying. Please. The name is right on there. Take it.” He pressed the card toward S/D.

S/D took it, almost feeling guilty for making Luke practically beg. “Okay, thanks.” I probably won’t use it either.

“Use it. Go ahead.”

S/D put it in his pocket. He was suddenly feeling sheepish. “Okay. Thanks, Luke.”

“You’re welcome to it, S/D.”

S/D shoved the card into his front pocket without over-examining it. He squeezed past Luke and got out of the condo.

He went down the parking garage and got into his car. He drove up to the gate and realized he didn’t know which way he wanted to turn.

The day wasn’t sunny. This time of year they were just gray.

He took out the card in his pocked and glanced at the address. He hadn’t much money left for the week, and he wanted to get rid of the card Luke had given him as soon as he could, so he went to the place on the address, which was on Fifteenth, up near the main part of Broadway. He left his car and walked there. What else was there to do. He hadn’t been up that hill in awhile—fifteenth was even up a steeper one that was Broadway, past Pioneers’ Park and the cemetery, but when he got up there, he thought it no longer seemed like a cool, out-of-the-way street that he remembered seeing once or twice. This satisfied him vaguely, he didn’t want to think of Luke having some special boho to hang out in. Now it made sense: trendy vodka bars and tapas-serving bistros for the twenty-something poseur like Luke.

S/D found the place that had issued the card, which didn’t look half-bad. For one thing it was nearly empty. And not a Starbucks or a Tully’s, or a Peet’s, but a cool nothing.

The card Luke had given him was a drink card—a one free after twelve punchholes kind of thing—though none of the holes were punched. Instead there was a note written in handwriting—certainly not Luke’s: it was a woman’s—that read: “$20 store value,” and then what was probably a name: Ardiss.

Chapter 34: Luke

Luke watched Connie leave and then he made his way back into the building by the side parking-garage door that he had jammed open earlier. If she hadn’t been such a light sleeper he wouldn’t have had to do this. He only hoped S/D had left his computer home as he usually did.

He had picked this day because he knew that Connie had a appointment with her accountant in the morning. But something must have happened, or the time had changed, because she didn’t actually drive out until 11:45. Luke spent that time crouched in the hedges along the neighboring building. A hidden place with a sight line through to Connie’s building. Perfect, but he hadn’t intended on spending two and half hours there. Once or twice he thought about leaving, but he imagined she would have to come out eventually, to go to yoga if nothing else. She usually found things to do during the day; that was never the problem. Knowing her schedule was the problem, as she was so secretive. In the end he had waited her out. It didn’t matter where she was headed. He only needed a few minutes to get in, erase the poem on the laptop and leave. Even if she had only driven to store for milk or something; he would have enough time.

He went inside and upstairs. He used the key. He had only been able to get the apartment door key that time, the time he took it and had a copy made, not the downstairs door.

She kept an extra door key on a hook in the kitchen, because either S/D or she were always seeming to lock themselves out within the building, going to the trash room or whatever. He didn’t understand what advantage having the key on the hook was, as she still needed to remember to take that with her if she went out into the hall while forgetting that her door was easy to accidentally lock. And why not just have a full set on the hook anyway? It made no sense but he hadn’t pressed her on it. He couldn’t talk to her like he could Ardiss. Connie was unreasonable. She liked to do things her own way. He had to let her much of the time. More and more he was thinking back to Ardiss. She had been easy to control, Connie should be just as easy. She was older, had experienced more, but she didn’t need to concern herself with that now. She had only to listen to Luke. She could run the business, get back into making money, and teach Luke about that at the same time—but he could run her emotional life. It would free up so much energy for her. He hadn’t broached the subject. Even though they were sleeping together, and soon, he suspected, would be living together here in the condo; he hadn’t really pressed this offer on her. He had wanted it to come naturally as it had with Ardiss and with other women he had had. It always came. The trick was to find women who hated themselves. Connie hated herself but she didn’t realize it yet. The wound was too current. The girls Luke most went with were fucked up from birth. Connie was fucked up only lately, and Luke had never had that before. He hadn’t realized what a difference it made, what a degree of difficulty it added to the mix.

Still, he could contend with that. He had only this one obstacle in his way, this poem that needed erasing. It had been a mistake to write it. Not a mistake. Whatever the Mind did was not a mistake. But sometimes the Mind did things the world was not ready for.

A matter of diminishing returns.

The important thing was Connie must realize she loved him. Understanding his poem was not a required element of that. She would love him and her reward would be renewed prosperity. Her sadness would leave, her child would leave, and all the old ties to her old life would leave, then they would have money and they would have prestige. Poetry did not matter on that scale.

Inside, he found S/D’s laptop had not been left in the living room. Perhaps S/D had taken it to school, because it was not in his room either. Perhaps Connie had left it there so that she could talk to S/D about it—or perhaps she already had talked to him. If that had happened then Luke would probably have to move on. The incident where Connie discovered the poem had been days ago. Luke had had a busy afternoon and night of it with Ardiss, she finally had agreed to his plan, but that would be all for nothing if Connie had found him out. It would be months wasted. And there was not enough cash around to make the months of work pay off; he had searched the home before for that. He had decided on another way to get short term cash that he was amazed had never occurred to him before. It had only come up now, because the previous night, Luke had heard the tale end of a conversation that Connie was having with her accountant. Connie had told the accountant to “see Barry for the payment”—the payment of what, he did not catch—but it hardly mattered.

Of course,
Barry
. Barry, who had profited more from Luke’s work than anyone.

Connie felt that way about Barry too, Luke was sure. Of course Luke couldn’t use that as a way to bind her closer to him. But Barry still had to have money coming in, from rental properties maybe. He might even have cash around.

Luke had killed a man for Barry for ten thousand dollars, a ridiculous sum after factoring in all the work it took. Here it was many months since the agreement in the coffee shop, and Luke had nothing tangible to show for his work.

That would all change, he could feel it coming. Connie had asked him what to do about S/D’s “note.” That was the silver lining behind her not recognizing it as Luke’s own work.

The Mind had arranged that for it to work out that way.

Doubtful that anyone would be able to understand his poetry his deeper thought processes, not now at least. Perhaps one day.

Instead the Mind had used the poem to confound and confuse Connie. She feared for her son now—found him alien and bizarre. He would go soon. Probably sooner than the end of the school year. And now Luke had the perfect solution, right in his pocket to help that along. Ardiss had cried when he told her, but she stopped crying. Everything would work out much better and much faster than he had planned.

Luke continued to search the house for the computer and finally found it on, of all places, the hamper in the hall bathroom. S/D did not take care of his possessions. Luke was tempted to take the laptop with him—use it at his apartment, or just throw it away to show S/D something, but he would undoubtedly whine about it and create even more consternation in the household.

Luke sat on the edge of the toilet and opened the computer. He started it up, and found the poem there on the desktop as he had left it. There was no way that he knew of to find out when the last time someone had looked at the document. He did not open the file again to look one last time at his work. It had served its purpose. He dragged the file to the trash and then emptied the trash in case someone happened to look there. He turned the computer off, closed it and rested it back on the hamper. That was it, he could go. The computer did not look right there, and he picked it back up. He went to put it in S/D’s room, but instead, at the last minute, decided to stage it just outside the bedroom door, leaning against the baseboard.

He headed for the front door and when halfway through the living room when the sound of a key entering the lock made him froze.

The tumblers turned, the door opened. Fortunately it was Stephen-David, not Connie. S/D was looking down when he crossed the threshold but jerked back, startled, when he saw Luke. Clearly S/D was cutting school, having doubled back when he knew his mother would not be home. Luke did not like that; if S/D started messing up in school it might hurt his college chances and keep him around in her life longer.

On the other hand it might cause her to see him as the non-working parasite he was and she would disown him all that much sooner. In either case Luke knew better than to call S/D on it. The little shit would make his own grave soon enough. However, this was a perfect opportunity to put his new ingenious push in that direction into motion.

S/D mumbled a few inarticulate words—Luke barely paid attention to the substance of it, if it had any.

Luke engaged him about school, dropping a query about whether or not S/D was looking for his computer, into the conversation.

S/D became unsettled, which made Luke angry. He had not given the kid any reason for suspicion.

“I put it against your door,” said Luke.

S/D then slipped past him, rudely, going down the hall to his room.

It seemed that S/D did not question Luke’s presence in the house, or did not care, and Luke did not feel that rapidly coughing up some excuse would do anything but give S/D the idea that Luke’s presence
was
suspicious. S/D
might
tell his mother, but more likely the wall of miscommunication between the two would continue to prevail.

If S/D did tell her…well Luke could probably come up with a plausible excuse before he would hear from her about it. He get ahead of the problem and tell S/D himself. This could be done under the guise of concern for S/D’s welfare. S/D was up to something home in the middle of the day. More things to think about.

He checked the hall and noticed the computer was no longer leaning against the wall outside S/D’s door; S/D had picked it up.

Luke went to the kitchen. He took the card that he had prepared for S/D out of his wallet. This was the perfect time, actually. The universe had made its way for him again.

He heard S/D, right on cue, come out of his bedroom again.

Luke put the card in his shirt pocket.

It took some doing—more tedious time expended bonding with S/D—but Luke finally got him to take the card.

After the kid left, and Luke had time to think about it, he was fairly sure that S/D would end up there today. That would be extra good. He called Ardiss at work and told her to be ready.

She did not give him any difficultly. All the difficulty and the crying had been dealt with already. That was the thing with Ardiss. Once she came around to his will on something she stayed there. Except for when he had banished her from their apartment, breaking up with her to pursue Connie. That she had never completely taken to. But now that he had use for her again he understood that the Mind had never wanted her to disappear completely. The Mind knew she would be needed later, and the Mind was always right.

Once S/D had gone, Luke relaxed. He realized there was no reason to rush off, the place was his. He went into Connie’s room and casually looked through a few drawers. He had done this before of course, and little had changed, and nothing was new. Connie’s desk was neat, the only thing out of place was an old day planner, its black vinyl book with an old year stamped on in gold letters. Luke sat at the desk and flipped through it. He was amazed at the number of appointments and notes in it. Every page was filled with them. He searched the desk and found no other notebooks. Today, he knew, she used her smart phone for everything, but the few times he had had the chance to look through it, when she was in the shower say, he knew that it certainly had nothing like the level of structure and commitment her life had had a few years ago. He flipped to the current week’s equivalent. Her life then was much different. Meetings, appointments, phone numbers, professional and even personal reminders (“S/D’s b-day gift, 2wks!”). Everything including “brainstorming” and “decompression” was blocked out in half-hour segments. This was hardly the Connie he knew, and it explained a lot. He wanted
that
Connie.