Without a Hitch (19 page)
“Did you like
it?”
“Did I like
it?!” Blue exclaimed. He let out a belly laugh. “I ain’t cried at a piece of
music in ten years. I cried tonight. You got to record it! You got to put it
out there for the world to hear. You ain’t got no right to keep that music to
yourself.”
“Thanks Blue, I
mean that.”
Penny continued
staring at Corbin. Her pupils were huge and she bit her lip. She ignored everyone
else in the bar.
Corbin looked at
her and smiled. “What?”
She didn’t
answer. She just hugged him again.
The weather turned
cooler again. It wasn’t cold enough yet for winter coats, but it was cooler
than normal for October in the Washington, D.C. area. Consequently, Molly’s
skirts were getting longer and pants returned to her wardrobe. Today she wore
a wool pinstriped pantsuit. The wide collar on her white dress shirt spread
out over the lapels of the navy suit. Shoe Guy’s silver necklace still hung prominently
around her neck.
Molly’s
officemate was out on maternity leave. This left Corbin as one of the few
people in the office to whom she liked to talk. Hence, she spent a lot of time
in his office. As usual, she sat on his desk with her feet on the extra chair.
“I am sooooo
bored. Entertain me,” she pleaded.
Corbin shrugged
his shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know.
Juggle. . . do a magic trick. Tell me a story.”
“What kind of
story?”
“Tell me what
you and Beckett were up to before he left? I’m sure the statute of limitations
has run out on whatever crime it was.” Molly never let up on her suspicions
about June 14th and she occasionally tried to trick Corbin into giving up
details of what he and Beckett had done. This comment, however, was not a
serious attempt.
Corbin didn’t
respond.
“Ever hear from
Beckett?” she asked.
Corbin shook his
head.
“Strange little
man.” Molly wrinkled her nose and smirked. “What do you think his wife is
like? I’ll bet she’s a retired hooker or a mail-order bride.”
“As far as I
know, they’re a normal, happy, loving couple of twenty-some years.”
“If they’re
happy and loving after twenty years, then they’re not normal.” Molly began
picking at one of her nails. “Heard anything about T’s new boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither.
She’s not talking to anybody about him.”
“I couldn’t help
but notice your feud has died down.”
This time Molly
shrugged her shoulders.
“How goes the
plan to get rid of Carl?” Carl was the new guy’s real name, though Molly still
called him “new guy” to his face and an assortment of nasty names behind his
back.
She frowned. “The
plan hit a snag.”
“I hear they’re
repainting the office,” Corbin said. This was true. They were changing the
dingy white walls and beige moldings to off-white walls and dark-beige
moldings.
Molly began kicking
the extra chair’s seatback with one foot, while holding the chair in place with
the other foot.
“How’s it going
with Shoe Guy and Clerk Guy?”
Molly frowned.
“They’re ok. Shoe Guy drops a lot of coin on me, but he’s kind of dull.” She
fingered the necklace he gave her. “Clerk Guy. . . Clerk Guy’s days may be
numbered.”
“Really, what
happened?”
“Nothing. . .
literally.” Despite her reputation around the office, Molly never made the
first move with her boyfriends, but it was understood they would. Clerk Guy
didn’t. For a while, this fascinated and perplexed her, and she spent a couple
weeks driving everyone in the office crazy trying to figure out why he hadn’t.
But as his reticence continued, her fascination turned to frustration, then
annoyance.
“At least you’ve
still got Shoe Guy.”
“Any problems to
report between you and what’s-her-name?”
“No, everything’s
fine.”
“You know what
the problem is with you men?” Molly asked, suddenly annoyed. She gave the
chair a strong kick before pushing it away and sliding off the desk.
“What?”
“You fall in
love, and you become so damn boring.” She made for the door, again without
returning the chair.
“Maybe we just
become better people?” Corbin called after her.
“No, just more
boring.”
Corbin and Penny
sat on Corbin’s couch. They were kissing. Penny sat next to Corbin, with her
legs draped over his lap and her left arm wrapped around his neck. She wore a
sleeveless black dress which ended just above her knees. She’d worn this dress
so they could go to dinner at an expensive restaurant downtown. They never
made it. As they kissed, Corbin’s left hand wrapped around the outside and
back of her right thigh, just below the hem of the skirt. He moved his hand along
her thigh, but didn’t go further up her skirt than an inch. His right hand
teased her back, just above the dress’s zipper, and up to her neck. He could
hear her breathing heavily.
Penny’s right
hand slipped in and out Corbin’s blue dress shirt where she’d undone a couple
of buttons. She’d already removed his red and gold tie. As she ran her fingers
across his chest, she leaned her head back, encouraging Corbin to kiss her
neck. He accepted the invitation and tenderly kissed a spot she liked just
below her ear. As his lips worked their way down to the top of her dress, she
playfully ruffled his hair. Soon, his lips returned to hers and his left hand
moved up her thigh another inch. She responded by undoing another button on
his shirt, a lower button. There weren’t many left.
Penny stared
into Corbin’s eyes. He still had that look with the soft sparkly eyes which
made her feel so warm and comfortable. As she ran her fingers through his
hair, he gave the zipper at the back of her dress a slight tug. She smiled. A
moment later, she kicked off her heels. Then she pulled herself off of Corbin
and rearranged herself on top of him, with one knee on either side of his
legs. She could feel his excitement. He reached for the zipper with his right
hand and pushed his left hand all the way up the back of her thigh. She slid
her hands behind her back and helped him unzip the dress. Then she leaned over
and kissed him, slipping her arms out of her dress as she did. As Corbin’s
hands moved to explore this newly exposed area, Penny unbuttoned the last of
his shirt buttons, before her hands moved lower.
Though the
church was ancient and small, it was also comforting. Beckett sat in the
second pew, near the aisle. He waited patiently for the old priest to finish
clearing the ornate altar. The priest moved slowly. He hadn’t noticed Beckett
yet. When the priest finished with the altar, Beckett called him. The priest
pushed his glasses higher up his nose with his wrinkled finger and squinted at
Beckett.
“Do I know you,
son?” He made his way over to Beckett.
“No Father, I’m
not a member of your church. . . but my parents were in their youths.”
The priest
looked at Beckett, but didn’t ask his parents’ names. Instead, he sat down in
the first pew, turning to look at Beckett over his shoulder. “How can I help
you?” he asked in an old voice, though not a frail voice.
“Father, I’ve
done something.” Beckett folded his hands as if in prayer.
The priest
started to speak, but stopped himself and let Beckett continue at his own pace.
“I’ve sinned and
I don’t know how to atone for it.” Beckett gnashed his teeth together and
shook his head slightly. “I’ve allowed myself to be tempted by evil. I gave
in to my fears,” he said quietly, unable to look the priest in the eyes. “I
was weak. . . I feared I couldn’t provide for my family. I didn’t know what to
do. . . and I allowed myself to be tempted by the promise of easy money, the
promise that all my problems could be solved with one evil deed. I told myself
it wasn’t wrong, but I knew better. I turned a blind eye to my own evil. . . I
betrayed everything I believe.” A single tear appeared at the corner of his
eye.
“What did you
do?” the priest asked softly.
“I stole a great
deal of money and now it’s killing me. The money’s like a burning flame that
haunts me day and night. I can’t sleep anymore. I see it in my dreams. I
feel its presence during the days. Even when it’s out of sight, I know it’s
there, reminding me of my failure, my betrayal of my family, my faith,
myself.” Beckett paused, exhaling loudly and casting his eyes toward the ceiling.
Another tear appeared.
“What happened
to this money?”
“Nothing,”
Beckett said, shutting his eyes tightly. “I can’t spend it. I tried. . . I
tried spending it. I told myself the deed was done and I could live with it.
I went to buy my wife a new stove. She’d never ask for it, she never asks for
anything. I wanted to surprise her. But all I could think of was that I was
damning her with my crimes. How can I do that?” Beckett rested his head in
his hands.
The priest
remained silent.
“When I was young,
I learned a poem. It’s stuck with me all these years. It’s about salvation,
and it taught me. . . it taught me that we make our own prisons.” Beckett
began to recite:
“At length did
cross an Albatross
through fog it
came;
as if it were a
Christian soul,
I hailed it in
God’s name.
God save thee,
counselor!
From fiends that
plague thee thus,
Why look’st thou
so? For with my cross-bow,
I shot the
Albatross.
Ah, well a-day what
evil looks
had I from mine own
soul so young;
instead of cross,
the Albatross
around my neck was
hung.”
Beckett stopped
and the two of them sat in silence for several seconds.
The priest spoke
first. “You must atone. Return this money you’ve taken and confess your
crime. Seek forgiveness. The Lord is ready to forgive. He is full of mercy
for all who ask His aid. His compassion can blot out our transgressions.”
Beckett shook
his head. “I. . . I can’t, Father. If I turn myself in, I’ll implicate my
friend. I can’t rectify a betrayal of myself by betraying another.”
“You must do the
right thing. Your friend will understand.”
“Not this
friend,” Beckett said with a hint of bitterness. Beckett seemed to deflate.
“I don’t even know how to return the money. No one’s even missing it,” he said
to himself.
The priest
cleaned his glasses before responding. “Evil grows in fertile grounds and
blinds us to the truth. A single evil deed will be returned tenfold.”
Beckett looked
at the priest. He began to nod his head and sat up slowly. “You’re right, Father.
I can’t condemn my family.”
“You must
atone.”
“Thank you, Father,”
Beckett said, as he rose to his feet. He zipped up his jacket and walked to
the door of the church. Just before he reached it, he looked back to the
priest one more time. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he
didn’t. He left.
The priest
returned to his altar. He didn’t see the three duffel bags sitting on the
floor where Beckett left them. He would find them later.
More than a
hundred people packed the bar, and it was only Tuesday night. The crowd was a
mix of young professionals, college kids and a few old-timers, who sat mostly
at the bar lamenting the youth invasion. It was deafeningly loud with that
many people competing to be heard in such a small space. The new waitress Blue
hired, a cousin of someone or other, scurried back and forth bringing a varied
assortment of drinks to tables. She had little time to talk to anyone.
Corbin hung his
thick wool coat on the rack and set his guitar on stage. The band was already
checking their instruments. Corbin noticed right away that the band was larger
than usual for a Tuesday and these players were the best who frequented the
Bluetone. They didn’t normally play Tuesdays and rarely played together.
After unpacking his guitar, Corbin navigated through the crowd to the bar,
where Penny sat sipping from a drink with an umbrella and playing with her new
silver necklace. Her large soft eyes and enormous smile announced her
excitement at seeing Corbin.
“Hey there,”
Corbin said, before kissing her.
“Hey back,” she
said, stealing a second kiss.
They stared into
each others’ eyes for a few seconds, both of them grinning uncontrollably.
“Big crowd
tonight,” Corbin finally said to Blue, though his eyes remained locked on
Penny.
“You don’t know
the half of it,” Blue said. “We been turnin’ people away.”
Corbin finally shifted
his gaze from Penny to Blue. “Something special going on?”
“Just this,”
Blue answered, sliding a folded newspaper across the bar. “The paper’s been
talkin’ about your playin’.”
Corbin skimmed
the article. “Hmm.”
“Is that all you
got to say?”
“Hmm. . . cool.”
Penny laughed. Blue
didn’t.
“We got some
requests you play that piece from Friday.”
“Really,
somebody wants to hear that again?” Corbin asked, as he scanned the crowd.
“Yeah, ’bout
sixty people,” Blue said.
“You’re shittin’
me?!”
“Barman’s
honor. We also got a dozen more people signed up for a copy of it when you get
around to cutting a copy.”
“In that case, I
guess I should get started. Don’t want to keep the audience waiting, do I?”
Corbin kissed Penny again, sliding one hand across her back as he did. She
slid her arms around his waist. When they separated, he left for the stage.
“Why didn’t you
tell him, Blue?” Penny asked.
“He don’t need
that kind of pressure. Let him enjoy himself.”
Penny looked
over her shoulder at the record company representative. He looked like anyone
else in the crowd. “Do you think he’ll like Alex?”
“Rex and I go
way back. If I know Rex, he’ll like him. That’s why I asked him to come
tonight.”
“You know, Alex
may never forgive you when he finds out,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh, Rex would’a
come soon enough. I just sped up the process.”
Up on stage, Corbin
placed his guitar in his lap. He took another sip of beer. “I understand
there’s been a request or two that we play the same thing we played last
Friday.” Corbin adjusted his guitar strings. “Normally, we wouldn’t do that,
but since we’re all friends, I guess we can make an exception.”
The crowd
laughed and then roared with applause.
Blue’s friend
Rex left near the end of Corbin’s set. He didn’t say a word to anyone. Penny
watched him leave.
“He’s leaving.
What does that mean?” she asked Blue.
“That’s a good
sign. He usually leaves after five minutes if he hates it, twenty minutes if
he likes it but can’t sign it, and after an hour no matter what.” Blue looked
at his ancient watch. “He stayed almost two hours tonight.”
“Should we tell
Alex?”
“Wait until
tomorrow. Rex gonna call me tomorrow if he wants to talk to Alex.”
Twenty minutes
later, Corbin left the stage. The crowd continued to applaud as he made his
way to the bar. When he reached the bar, Penny launched herself from the
barstool into him and hugged him tightly. She placed her head against his
chest and didn’t let go for some time.
“Brilliant,
babe!”
Corbin smiled.
“Just
brilliant,” she added.
“Thanks, I was
pretty happy with it.” His tired voice revealed his exhaustion. Despite his
exhaustion, Penny recognized a deep calm about him, which he always got when he
played at Blue’s bar. She also saw the now-familiar soft sparkle in his eyes.
Penny looked at
her watch. “All right, Mr. Happy, I need to go home.”
“You’re not
coming over?”
“Nope.” She
pushed him away. “I told you, my other sister’s in town. I’ll call you on the
weekend.” She started to leave but then turned back, grabbed the surprised
Corbin by the shirt, pulled him toward her, and kissed him. Then she winked at
Blue and left.
Blue laughed.
“She’s a keeper.”
Corbin smiled.
Corbin saw the
flashing light the moment he entered his apartment. He set down his guitar and
walked over to the table where the cell phone lay. He picked up the phone.
Beckett had called. Moreover, Beckett left Corbin a message, despite being
told never to do that. Corbin pressed recall and placed the phone to his ear.
“We have a
problem.”
