“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Just get some rest, okay?”
I said good night to him and left him there, soaking in the hot water. It was another cold summer night in the UP. As I went out to my truck, I looked up at the stars. The rest of the reservation was quiet. I didn’t see anyone else around.
I drove back to Paradise.
Once again, I tried to sleep and failed. I was lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was already imagining how the whirlwind would come. Maybe a car, as long and sleek as that cigarette boat, driving silently up my road. I wondered how we could ever be ready to face the men who would step out of that car.
Then I heard a soft knock on the door. Before I could say a word, Lou cracked the door open and stuck his head in.
“Alex? Are you up?”
“Come on in,” I said. “What’s going on?”
He came into the cabin. He was walking slowly, and his face was already starting to swell up from the two fights he’d been in.
“You need some ice,” I said. “Let me get some.”
“Only if it’s in a glass. Whatever you have. Whiskey, gin, I don’t care.”
I’d taken my watch off and put it on the table. I picked it up now and looked at it. It was just after three in the morning.
“What’s going on?” I said. “You look wrecked. You should be sleeping.”
“I just had to talk to you. Sit down for one minute. After you get that drink for me, please.”
I looked for the bottle of Jim Beam. Then I remembered it was empty. It was the bottle Vinnie and I had killed that night, not that long ago. The same night he got the call to come pick up Buck at the airport.
“I only have cheap stuff,” I said. “I think somebody gave me this a long time ago. It’s not even open.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He sat at the table, looking at nothing. I made the drink and put in a few ice cubes. I put it down in front of him and he took a long swallow. The room was dark except for the one light on over the sink. The way the light hit him, it picked up all of the old scars on his face, along with all of the new damage. He looked old and tired.
“It was the best of times,” he said. “It was the worst of times.”
“Lou, what are you talking about? What’s wrong?”
He took another drink.
“When I was growing up here,” he said, “there was this old Ojibwa story I heard, and there’s a couple different variations to it, but the basic idea is this. A boy is living with his grandmother, who’s very old. Before she dies, she says to him, ‘You’re going to be all alone now, but before long a stranger is going to come to you. I want you to do whatever he says.’ Then she dies.”
He tipped the glass again. Then he went on.
“A few days later, a stranger comes to the village. And he says, ‘Who is the best man among you?’ The elders gather to talk about it, then they send the boy to the stranger. The boy has a meal with the stranger, and finally the stranger tells him why he has come to the village. He tells him that he was sent there by the Creator to test him, to see if he and his people are worthy. The boy asks him what the test is and the stranger says they have to fight each other. If the boy wins, he lives. If he loses, he dies.”
He stopped again. He didn’t take another drink. He looked at the glass for a long moment before continuing.
“The boy agrees to the test. So he and the stranger go outside to a clearing in the forest and they begin to fight. All night long they fight, until they are both so tired they can’t continue. They both sleep during the day, until it is time to get up and eat, and regain their strength. They have their meal together, then they go back to the clearing to fight again. A great battle, back and forth, neither one of them gaining the upper hand. Until once again they are too tired to continue. They sleep through the day, until it’s time to get up and eat together. Then, once more, they fight.”
I watched him as he told me the story. It felt like the whole world was slipping away and it was just Lou and me, here in my cabin, surrounded by nothing but darkness outside.
“This time, as they fight, the boy hits him with a club. The stranger finally goes down to his knees. The boy plunges a knife into the stranger’s back. The stranger is dead. He has killed him. But he isn’t happy about it. The stranger has fought so well, and the boy has spent all of this time with him and he has learned so much about himself. He weeps for the stranger and he carries him to the graveyard and buries him next to his grandmother. He visits the grave every day, looking after it the same way he looks after his grandmother’s grave. Then one day, on the first day of spring, the boy finds a plant growing on the stranger’s grave. He doesn’t know what it is, but he tends to it all that spring and summer, until it is even taller than he is. In the fall, when he finally decides to open up the leaves on this plant, he finds yellow kernels. He tastes them and they are sweet. This is how the people were given corn. Through the death of this stranger.”
He looked up at me, finally, his eyes wet. I wasn’t sure what to say to him.
“You told me everything that happened on that boat with Corvo,” he said. “Every detail, and I appreciate it. I know it was probably the scariest thing you ever lived through, but you trusted me enough to share it with me.”
“Lou, wait, how do you go from that story to-”
“The funny thing is, Alex, when he wanted to know what your name was, he took out your driver’s license and he looked at it. You remember telling me that?”
“Yes…”
My wallet was right there on the table, next to my watch. He picked it up now, exactly as Corvo had done. He opened it and looked at my driver’s license.
“It makes sense, right? He’s a smart guy. He knows your driver’s license wouldn’t lie.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following any of this.”
“Do you want to know what my driver’s license says?”
I just looked at him. I didn’t answer.
“It says the same thing yours does. My full name. Louis. Vincent. LeBlanc.”
“I still don’t follow you.”
“My first name is Louis,” he said. “But nobody ever calls me that. Ever. I go by my middle name instead. Everybody I know. Everybody. They all call me Vinnie.”
I shook my head. I still wasn’t getting it. I was inches away, but still not there yet.
He put my wallet back down. He had taken something from it. Not my driver’s license. No, he had taken the card that Corvo had given to me. The card with the phone number.
“What are you doing with that?” I said. “Lou, come on.”
Still calling him Lou. Because I knew that was his name. Even the old-timers here on the rez called him Lou. He’d been Lou all his life. This whole strange business about everybody calling him Vinnie…
“No,” I said, feeling an icy wave wash over me. “You can’t be serious.”
“He’s never met me, Alex. He’ll never know the difference.”
“This is crazy. You know what Corvo will do to you. He won’t just kill you.”
“I’m not afraid of him. Besides, I’ve done enough bad things in my life. I keep telling people I’ve repaid my debts, but I can’t tell that same lie to you. I know I’ve caused a lot more pain than I’ve ever had to feel myself. A lot more by a long shot.”
“No,” I said. “Stop it. Just stop talking like this. Even if it wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, it still wouldn’t even work anyway. That maniac won’t be satisfied if it’s just some guy named Vinnie who shows up. It was Buck who…”
I couldn’t say one more word. I stood up.
“Alex, don’t.”
I pushed past him. I went outside and threw open the driver’s-side door of his rental car.
“Where is he? Where’s Buck?”