She said, “You seem to have doubts.”
Armand shrugged. “I don’t see how he could know what you’re thinking.”
“He just would.”
“You mean ’cause of how you’re acting then, nervous?”
“I guess partly.”
“Listen, you don’t have to be afraid of him.”
Donna was still holding on to him with her eyes in the shining glasses. She said, “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
He pushed against the back of the sofa to sit up, reached over and very gently lifted off her glasses to see her eyes naked. Donna didn’t move. She blinked. Now she was looking at him again, or seemed to be. She looked like a sister of the Donna before. Now she turned her head slightly and touched her pile of hair. Armand believed it was a gesture that meant she wouldn’t mind getting laid.
“No, I’m not afraid of him,” Armand said. “You know why?”
She was trying to give him a soft look with those cockeyed eyes. He didn’t know why seeing Donna without her glasses made him more aware of her being naked beneath the robe, but it did.
She said, “You’re bigger than he is,” lowered her head just enough and smiled, becoming a little imp now, this fifty-year-old woman and her Mr. Froggy, both looking at him.
He said, “You know who I am?”
“Who you are? Sure.”
“You know what I mean. Richie told you, didn’t he?”
“He said you’re from Toronto.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why can’t you say it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“The kind of thing I do for a living.”
“It isn’t none of my business.”
“Yeah, but Richie told you. Don’t he tell you everything he’s doing?”
“He brags a lot. You know Richie.”
“But he did tell you about me.”
“It really doesn’t matter,” Donna said. “I’ve enjoyed your company, I think you’re a nice person and, well, I wish you all the best.” She looked off at the room. “I don’t know—I hope you didn’t mind my cooking too much. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world, trying to please two different men.”
Armand said, “You think I’m leaving?”
“Well, I guess you will sometime.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Nothing, really. I just, you know, have a feeling.”
“He told you what we’re doing?”
“No, uh-unh, he’s never said a word.” Donna shook her big hairdo back and forth, brushed Mr. Froggy from her knee and stared at him, those poor eyes of hers saying, Please believe me. She said, “I don’t know anything about your business and I don’t want to. I made those phone calls. . . . Richie says things, you never know if he’s giving you a bunch of bull or what, so I just let it go in one ear and out the other. I would never, ever,repeat anything that was said to me, whether I was told not to or I wasn’t. It’s just none of my business.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Not the least.”
“You seem nervous.”
“Well, I’m not. I have no reason to be.”
“So, you think Elvis is still alive.”
“I’m pretty sure of it.”
“Maybe he is. Who knows, ’ey?”
“Even if he wasn’t, I’d still like to go down there.”
“What else? Would you like it if I killed Richie?”
“Oh, my Lord,” Donna said. “Would I.”
“What will you give me?”
They heard the back door open and slam closed.
Richie came in through the kitchen, saw them on the couch with the TV off, Donna’s glasses off, what’s this? They weren’t playing Yahtzee or looking at Elvis pictures. Richie stopped chewing his bubble gum. What’s going on here? In some kind of serious conversation that could be about him. Or else the Indian was getting ready to dive into her muff. Either way, Richie didn’t like the looks of it. But lightened up his manner saying, “Goddamn it, Bird, I do all the work and you have all the fun. Did I mention that before? I don’t like to repeat myself. Donna, go take a leak or something, the Bird and I want to be alone.”
Look at that. Now she was staring at the Bird, like it was up to him, or he’d give her permission, those big bald eyes of hers trying like hell to focus.
“Donna, you hear me?”
“He don’t like to repeat himself,” the Bird said to her and motioned with his head, go on.
She still took her sweet time getting up, straightening her robe, walking out, head of gold held high, retired queen of the cons—never had it so good and never would again. Richie stepped over to give Donna a pat on the behind. He looked at the Bird, who looked back at him, but waited, chewing his gum, till he heard a door close.
“You ready?”
“For what?”
“I call the woman, okay? She starts in bitching at me, her back’s killing her and it’s my fault.”
“Am I ready for what?”
The Bird trying to act cool.
“I ask her,” Richie said, “did she ever get hold of her daughter and Wayne. She goes, ‘Yeah, and you don’t have to send the check now, they’re coming home.’ ”
That hooked the Bird.
“You kidding me. When?”
“They already left. She says her daughter’s coming to take care of her, on account of she’s in terrible pain and can’t move.” Richie watched the Indian, waiting for him to catch on. “They’re coming ’cause I gave the woman a treatment. You hear what I’m saying? I did it, man, rubbing her old bones. I got them to come home, you understand? Saved us a trip.”
The Bird looked like he was still trying to figure it out. “She’s going to her mother’s house.”
“That’s right.”
“What about the guy?”
“The guy, he’ll go with her, or he’ll stay home. Or they’ll both stop home first, I bet you anything, ’cause it’s on the way. We go to their house right now, tonight, and wait. They don’t come by, we go to the mom’s house.”
“Maybe,” the Bird said. “I’ll think about it.”
Fucking Indian.
Ten feet away. Take one step, hop on the other foot and kick him right in the face. Uh, what did you say, Bird? There’s nothing to think about, man. You want to know everything’s gonna happen? There’s no way in the fucking world you can know everything. You don’t even want to know everything, not have any surprises in your life?
No more partners, man, that was for sure. He should never have brought the Indian into this deal. That caused his mind to pause and think, Wait a minute. What deal? There wasn’t a dime to be made off it, unless he called up that real estate man sometime. Just then the Bird said, “Okay, we go to their house.”
And they were back together again, Richie grinning at him, anxious to tell more, but blew a bubble, popped it and was chewing again before saying, “Bird? Guess what? I even got us provisions. We spend the night there we’re gonna be hungry. I got us some pizza you put in the oven, I got us a bunch of different kinds of like frozen din-dins, I got us some potato chips, candy bars . . . Hey, I picked up a magazine at the checkout, I’m waiting there? Bird, it shows a picture of a guy weighs twelve hundred pounds. You ever hear of anybody that big in your life?”
“Twelve hundred pounds?” the Bird was squinting at him. “Three horses don’t weigh twelve hundred pounds.”