‘Not many know what Death looks like, what kind of wheels he has. Those that do have a responsibility to ride patrol and waste the motherfucker on sight. No questions. No answers. I got my piece from ’Nam under the seat. When I see him, I’m gonna blast them diamonds off his fingers, blow him down to dust.’
Daniel said, ‘You think you can kill Death?’
‘I don’t know. But I sure as fuck can try.’
‘Almost have to,’ Daniel said softly. He leaned back in the seat and shut his eyes. He tried to imagine Ginnilee’s face but he was too weary. He opened his eyes only to be blinded by the high beams of an oncoming car. As it passed, Daniel, struggling to refocus, thought he caught a glimpse of a black limo. He wheeled to look out the rear window, telling Kenny, ‘I got an eyeful of headlight, but I think that might have been it, the black limousine.’
‘Fuck, man, are you on drugs? That was a red seventy-seven Toyota.’
Daniel watched the taillights move closer together as they faded in the distance. From what he’d seen, the car was long, low-slung, black. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Relax, man,’ Kenny reassured him. ‘It’s a crazy story to get behind, I know. Hard news. Cut the spook loose in ya is all. Remember, I drove the fuckin’ limo; I’d know it blind. That was a red seventy-seven Toyota – bank it.’
Daniel turned back around on the seat. ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘It’s your call, your patrol – only trying to help out.’
‘I roger that, bro’, and much obliged. Fuck, man, you were crying with me there during the war stories – think I don’t know you’re on my frequency? I pick up every hitchhiker I see on patrol, and I tell ’em all about Ginnilee’s face and that gone month driving Death around. Some of them say nothing, some tell me I’m full of shit, some humor me like I’m some sort of war-psychomoron, and almost all of them decide that they’d rather stand on the empty desert highway than ride another mile with me. Maybe one out of a hundred has even a little fucking tiny tear to shed, has the heart to cry because it hurts. And you’re one of them, man. You ever seen Death?’
The question, sudden and oblique, caught Daniel off balance. ‘What makes you ask that?’
Kenny shrugged. ‘A hunch. A feeling. I wasn’t meaning to get in your shit about it. You don’t have to tell me diddly.’
‘I almost died once,’ Daniel said. ‘From a bomb explosion. My heart stopped when they were loading me in the ambulance; they had to shock it to get it started. That’s what the doctor told me, anyway – I don’t remember. I was falling, that’s the last thing I remember, falling till it seemed I’d fall forever, then right in front of me, out of nowhere, was a mirror, and I remember lifting my hands to protect my face but I don’t know if I fell through it or it shattered or what. I guess the closest I’ve ever come to seeing Death was in that mirror, but I don’t remember what I saw there, if I saw anything at all.’
‘That’s Death, all right. He loves to fuck around with mirrors, mirrors and windows – two of his favorite toys.’
‘If you don’t mind a personal question, something you said has got me curious.’
Kenny glanced over at him. ‘Do it, man. Shoot.’
‘I’m not quite sure how to put it,’ Daniel replied. ‘You said when you looked at Ginnilee’s picture, you vanished inside yourself. Do you mean your body actually disappeared, turned into air?’
‘Negative. Just the fucking opposite. My body stayed and my mind vanished. You had the right track, though; just the wrong train.’
Daniel thought about this. It actually seemed to make better sense than the way he was going about it. He tried to imagine his mind vanished, smiling when he realized he’d gotten ahead of himself, that first he’d have to imagine his mind. The thought cracked him up.
Kenny eyed him nervously. ‘What got you off, man?’
‘I was trying to imagine my mind.’
‘Yeah, I know – it’s weird, huh? Like a TV watching itself, or a slot machine playing itself, shit like that.’
‘Shit like that,’ Daniel repeated, still chuckling.
Kenny, eyes back on the road, seemed almost solemn. He nodded his head once, as if confirming a decision, and turned to Daniel. ‘I got a deal for you, Herman, a stone guarantee. Why don’t you hook up with me for awhile, ride some patrol. I can get you decent work in the casino if you want some play money, but if you’d rather kick back I’ve got an extra bunk and lots of rations. I’m no fucking Julie Child, but I cook good enough I don’t use nothing from cans.’
Sobered by the offer, Daniel said, ‘I’m honored, but I have a mission of my own. Maybe when it’s over, I’ll take you up on it.’
‘What’s your mission, man. This some of that “religious zeal” stuff?’
‘Some, I guess. You see, I found the Grail––’
‘Say what?’ Kenny cocked his ear. ‘The Grail?’
‘Like the Holy Grail,’ Daniel said.
‘You mean like in the Knights of the fucking Round Table? Some kind of trophy cup from God or something like that? I always dug those knights thundering off to lance some flipped-out dragon. Foxworth used to laugh at me about it. Said, “Fuck dem knights and da round table. Thas a lot of hard riding fo’ not much pussy.” I told him pussy wasn’t the point. The point was the quest, fighting your way through. He said, “Thas cool wi’ me, Kenny. You quest it, I’ll fuck it.” That was Foxworth, man, pussy and music. Fucking Foxworth. Ate a Claymore at Song Be. Heard about it from a guy in the VA, bed next to––’ Kenny stopped, lifting his hands from the wheel in a helpless shrug. ‘Sorry, man,’ he apologized. ‘I shit all over your riff. I get spaced here at night. Get the diarrhea jaws.’
Daniel said, ‘I understand. No problem.’
‘So anyway, before I went drifty, you were saying you’re after this Grail, right?’
‘Not exactly. I found the Grail – not the Holy Grail, but one like it. My mission is to figure out what to do with it.’
‘Fuck, man! Hang on to it.’
‘I thought of that first, too,’ Daniel said, ‘but now I’m convinced hanging on to it is the one thing I can’t do.’
‘I know some people in Vegas who could move it for thirty percent, if what you mean is too hot to hang on to. Free introduction, just to help a brother get clear.’
‘Not necessary. It can’t be sold or bought or stolen or kept. But maybe it can be opened.’
‘Got a torch in the shop,’ Kenny offered.
‘No, wouldn’t do it, but thanks for the thought. I’ll find a way, I’m sure.’
‘Right on, brother. One way or another, blow the walls down. Soul belongs to Jesus but your ass belongs to the Corps. Any way I can help you, call the Shamrock and let me know. I’ll ride in like the fucking cavalry, my iron flipped to rock’n’roll. Me and fucking Foxworth, man, we had this secret army, all the drug-suckers and wailing fools, the loonies and the lonely and the desperately fucked up, a secret army of us called The Brotherhood of the Hideous Truth. Foxworth was the supreme commander, and I was his field general, General Chaos he called me. Only had one rule for meetings. They couldn’t begin until everyone was too stoned to stand up and salute the flag. Fucking Foxworth, man …’
Daniel listened till he could almost imagine Foxworth sitting between them, drinking Bacardi with beer chasers, grinning at his certain knowledge that of the five billion adult human beings on the planet, over half had pussies – and even if that wasn’t the ultimate point, it surely offered reason to live.