Get Some (16 page)

T
rudy drove through the flat, empty desert for hours. She was hungry. Her red eyes were starting to burn. She desperately wanted to rest. The events of the day kept flashing through her mind. She had one last stop to make before escaping the state, and that was going to see Miss Dee in Barstow.

She pulled out the receipt and double-checked the address. She slowed toward an old beat-up, sloped-rooftop complex.
RAINBOW TREE REST HOME,
the crusty sign read. There was no tree in sight. The landscape looked vacant. The sad, aging building lacked any sign of color. From the fence to the stucco, to the old chipping trim, was the same moldy, trying-to-hold-on beige.

Trudy grabbed her purse and got out of the car. Her open-toe shoes lapped up the dry sand. It ground against her toes as she hurried to the front door.

 

 

Jimmy hovered by the side of the rough desert road. At ninety-eight miles an hour he'd made really good time. He parked Shirley's old Cougar near some Joshua trees. They leaned in the olive-dim moon.

It was three in the morning when Jimmy lit his cigar.

“There's the car right there.” Lil Steve pointed to the black Bug. Jimmy blew the smoke slow and looked at Lil Steve. “Remember what I told you,” he said, pulling the latch. “Do exactly what I said or I'll blast off your dick. I'm not fucking with none y'all no more.”

Jimmy ground his cigar right next to the car. He pressed his face up to the Bug's dirty window, looking down at the empty vinyl seat. He looked around the lot until he spotted a huge rock. He smashed the rock into the Volkswagen's window, reached in and pulled open the latch. There were some old bloody clothes and a white empty paint can. Lil Steve said the stash was inside the seat cushion. Jimmy pushed his hand all the way into the ripped slit but didn't feel anything there.

“Where the hell is it? You said in the seat!” Jimmy slammed Lil Steve back against the Volkswagen.

“I don't know.” Lil Steve said, scared. “That's where I put it. She must have taken it out.”

Jimmy glanced toward the Rainbow Tree Rest Home's front door. He let go of Lil Steve and popped his suit collar. Pulling the Glock from his waist, he carefully clicked in the clip.

Peering inside the misty glass doors, Jimmy looked inside the small rest home's lobby. The lobby was empty. There was no one in sight, so he pulled the cold handle, opening the heavy door wide, and shoved Lil Steve inside.

As soon as he walked in, he wrinkled his nose. The whole rest home reeked with the dense smell of piss. It was mixed with the powerful, harsh scent of bleach and the godawful stench of rotten skin. Jimmy took a small hanky and held it close to his nose, examining each room lining the beaten gray wall. This had to be the worst rest home he'd ever seen. Old people lay still on raggedy cots. Some of the twin beds had two people crammed in one. They watched Jimmy and Lil Steve with dull, hazy eyes. Thin, papery skin held their skeletal bodies. They all looked two heartbeats from death's door. Some had mouths hanging wide, some of them drooled, but others had chapped lips with crevices so deep they were caked in dried blood, like a riverbed that hadn't seen water in years.

Jimmy looked in each room, inching his way down the hall. When he turned the right corner he found what he came for. Trudy was leaning over this tiny, decrepit old woman. The old woman's once-braided plaits were now two fat dreadlocks. Loose, coarse hair sprung over the top. She was wearing an old, stained pair of men's pajamas. Another bony woman's face lay near her toes.

“Are you her kin?” the bony woman hoarsely said. Her voice sounded like someone shaking a big bag of rocks. “I knew someone would come. I been laying here praying.”

Miss Dee tried her best to scoot up a bit but ended up slumped farther down. She seemed to be held by a string of IVs, like some old, worn-out, paper-thin puppet. A lunch tray with soup sat on a stand near her lap. And although a lone spoon slept on a napkin, her blotchy rheumatoid hands looked too gnarled to hold it.

“Oh, Miss Dee!” Trudy said, eyeing Miss Dee's wasted body. “Tony lied. He said you were dead!” When she leaned over to give Miss Dee's face a kiss, the bony woman's feet lying next to Miss Dee's head gently grazed Trudy's face. When Trudy felt those cold toes, she quickly pulled away. The toenails were ridged and completely curled in.

Miss Dee couldn't speak. A stroke had stolen her voice, but her twinkling eyes never looked more alive.

“I'm Agnes,” the bony woman said. “She used to be down the hall but they put her with me month before last. Had a bad stroke and can't talk no more.”

Miss Dee's face muscles rippled, trying to manage a smile. Her mouth was drawn and her skin was so deeply lined she looked like a plum left to rot in the sun. Her muscles were pulled so tight at the lip, it looked like a new baby's fist.

“My people don't never come visit me neither. But I knew someone would come. I told her I could feel it,” Agnes said.

Miss Dee smiled again and grasped Trudy's hand. But as suddenly as the smile had appeared on her face, it immediately changed to pure fear. A tall man loomed behind Trudy's shoulders, but that's not what made Miss Dee yank the blanket over her face. Miss Dee hid when she saw the gun pointing at them from the door.

“Hey, girl,” Lil Steve said low. Although it hurt when he talked, he managed a smirk. “Bet yo' ass is surprised to see me.” Jimmy stood hidden in the rest home's dark, gloomy hall. Lil Steve knew he was pointing a gun at his back, and a line of perspiration made its way along his jaw.

Trudy jerked her head up and lurched toward the corner.

“I must admit,” Lil Steve stepped closer, “you had us all going. I didn't see none of this shit coming.” Lil Steve chuckled. He did his best to appear friendly. But he kept smoothing the hairs on his mustache and goatee. Sweat rolled down to his ear.

Trudy inched farther back but there was no place to hide.

“You pretty slick, homegirl. Your game was real tight.” Lil Steve clapped twice, miming applause. Now he was only a few inches from her face. “But quit trippin'. We don't need to play
Law & Order
no more.” Lil Steve smiled inside Trudy's growing wide eyes. “Just give me the stuff back and I'll get it to Jimmy; then all this bullshit will be over.” Lil Steve tried to act cool, but his worried eyes were pleading. He hoped Trudy listened. She better have that stash. He knew it would be over for him too if she didn't say where she hid the cocaine.

Lil Steve inched closer. Trudy felt his breath. “It's just you and me, baby. Ray Ray's in jail and Vernita is dead. You don't want to end up like them two.”

Trudy looked at him in horror. This couldn't be true. “You're lyin'. I just saw Vernita, she's fine!”

“Well, I'm telling you, that nigga ain't playin' no more. Homeboy gunned her down. Executioner's style. Shot her point-blank in the dome,” Lil Steve lied.

Trudy looked confused. This couldn't be true. “Well, then, how come he didn't kill you?” Trudy asked.

Even Jimmy had to smile when he heard Trudy say that. She was as sharp as a tree cutter's ax.

“I know you ain't willing to die for some ends!” Lil Steve grew impatient with her now. He shoved Vernita's purse into Trudy's hands. “Look at that and tell me if I'm lying or not. Come on, Trudy! Just give the shit back!”

Trudy examined the purse and looked back at Miss Dee, who had pulled the blanket up to her eyes. This was definitely Vernita's purse. This was all of her stuff. Maybe Lil Steve was telling the truth. Trudy's whole body began filling with dread.

“Trudy, we don't have to go out like them,” Lil Steve pleaded.

“Vernita?” Trudy asked. “Vernita's been killed!” Trudy felt so bad, she fell against Miss Dee's bed. But in the metal overhead light she saw something funny. A hand with a gun was right there in the hall. Lil Steve was setting her up.

“So what do we do now?” Trudy asked, stalling for time. Her eyes scanned the small room for some kind of weapon. But the only thing she saw was a paper towel holder on the wall and some antiseptic spray next to the food tray.

“Where's the coke?” Lil Steve demanded. He was really getting mad. He didn't like having that gun aimed at his spine. “Get the shit now and let's go!”

Trudy acted like she was about to go out the door. But instead she grabbed hold of Miss Dee's metal lunch tray and smacked it into Lil Steve's face.

Lil Steve yelled out in pain as the soup splashed in his eyes. The blow's impact killed his raw, throbbing jaw. Jimmy leaped, waving his gun, but Trudy held up the can. She sprayed the antiseptic right in his eyes.

With his eyes burning, Jimmy could barely see straight. He shot wildly around the room. Shots hit the ceiling and walls. There was a horrible, animal-sounding, blood-curdling yelp, like a mutt being struck by a car. But the yelp wasn't Trudy and it wasn't Miss Dee. Poor Agnes's head tilted down on her pillow. Blood oozed out of her nose. A bullet pierced through Agnes's neck. Miss Dee lay in fear. She couldn't do a thing. A lone tear rolled down the cracks of her face.

Trudy backed away toward the room's narrow corner. She was totally trapped. There was no place to hide. She felt like a roach underneath a huge shoe.

Jimmy grasped and held Trudy's quivering neck. “Where's the shit?” he screamed loudly. He was sputtering with rage. “I'll kill your whole fucking family if you don't tell me something quick!”

“I don't have it!” she screamed back. Trudy was scared out of her mind. She knew if she told him he'd kill her and be done. There was nothing else to do but try to stall.

“You a liar!” Jimmy spat. “Where's the shit at?”

Trudy tried to slither behind the IV and table but her foot got tangled inside the long see-through cord and the table crashed down to the floor. The IV ripped right out of Miss Dee's papery arm. A trail of dark blood flowed from her wrist.

During the blasting, Lil Steve dove to the floor. He inched toward the hallway, crawling on hands and knees. He figured it was best to get out if he could. He definitely didn't want to get shot.

When the table crashed down, Jimmy loosened his grip. Trudy grabbed the IV, dripping its clear liquid and rammed it inside his neck. Jimmy screamed in her face. He shot two more times, but they blasted the ceiling because he shot while snatching the needle from his skin, and the tall steel pole that was holding the IV came tumbling down on his back. At that point, Trudy scrambled and managed to get out of the room.

There were only two attendants working the late shift that night and one of them was out on his break. When the other attendant heard those gunshots coming from down the hall, she stuck her wet mop inside the bucket and left. The attendant snuck in a patient's room and ducked all the way down. She wasn't about to get herself shot on the job. Not on the bullshit minimum wage they paid her.

Trudy was almost at the front door. In a couple more steps she would be outside. It felt like it did when she'd shoplifted something, only a hundred and fifty times worse. Her heartbeat was pounding, her blood began to steam, and it was difficult to take a good breath. She put her hand on the handle, and the night air rushed in. She was almost there now. Her arm cleared the threshold. But just when her feet reached the darkness outside, just when she'd gotten her whole body out, just when her lungs finally took in some air, Jimmy hooked his thick arm around Trudy's waist and yanked her all the way back in. Trudy twisted and screamed but he had her this time. He slammed her so hard against the old stucco wall that the paint flecked down over the floor. The force was so strong she felt like she'd been whiplashed. Jimmy brought her down, clutching both her wrists, nailing her against the hard floor like Jesus.

“Where's my shit?” Jimmy yelled. His sweat dripped on her forehead. But Trudy's lips didn't move, though they trembled a lot. Her tongue stayed lodged in the roof of her mouth.

“Oh, you ain't talkin'?” Jimmy sneered at her face. He snatched a shank out from the back of his pants. He cut Trudy's hoop earring straight from the lobe. A piece of pink meat was still attached to the gold back.

The sight of her own blood immediately made her feel nauseous. But Trudy's mind was set. She clenched her back teeth. She turned her whole brain into a strong steel vise. Vernita was dead. Ray Ray was gone; she'd be damned if she talked to him now. And even though her concrete eyes were desperate to cry, she willed the hot tears from escaping down her cheeks. Jimmy read the determined look in Trudy's hard eyes. He put the knife back and pulled out his Glock. Jimmy was a pro at breaking folks down. He lived for this kind of challenge. He slammed the cold gun upside Trudy's face. Explosions of pain flared all over her skull. He hit her again and blood drained from her lips, then he jammed the gun under her teeth.

“Gimme my shit or I'll mess you up for life. No man'll ever look at you twice!”

The pain was intense. Trudy struggled to think. But her mind said she'd die before giving him what he wanted. She was alive only because he needed her to talk. Her whole body became a tight steel pipe.

Jimmy's face scowled crazily. He breathed heavy and deep. Trudy felt his foul breath warming over her forehead. But then something crossed over his hard, ruthless mind. Something made his cruel lips almost curl to a smile. He dragged Trudy down, pulling her along the long hall. He yanked her back into Miss Dee's narrow room. The white sheet under Miss Dee had turned a deep crimson. Agnes's blood was all over the bed.

“I'ma give you something to make your quiet ass talk.”

Jimmy aimed the gun over Miss Dee's shrunken frame.

“Wait!” Trudy screamed, but it was too late for that. Jimmy fired the gun straight into Miss Dee's spindly thigh. A raspy growl erupted from Miss Dee's parched throat and ricocheted down the hall.