"Yes," I said. "I'm afraid he'll have to know, Johnnie."
"How soon can I leave?"
"Very soon. It won't be long now," I said. "Where were you Sunday night?"
"To a picture show." He drew hard on his cigar, and I could see his jaw beginning to set. "What's the difference?"
"You know what I mean, Johnnie. Where'd you go after the show-between the time you left it and started to work?"
"Well"-puff, puff-"I don't see what that's got to do with this. I don't ask you"-puff-"where you-"
"You can," I said. "I intend to tell you. I guess maybe you don't know me as well as I thought you did, Johnnie. Haven't I always shot square with you?"
"Aw, hell, Lou," he said, shamed. "You know how I feel about you, but-All right, I'd probably tell you sooner or later anyway. It was"-puff-"here's the way it was, Lou. I told the old man I had this hot date Wednesday, see, but I was afraid of my tires, and I could pick up a couple good ones cheap an' hand him back something each week until I got 'em paid for. And-"
"Let me sort that out," I said. "You needed tires for your hot rod and you tried to borrow the money from your father?"
"Sure! Just like I said. And you know what he says, Lou? He tells me I don't need tires, that I gad around too much. He says I should bring this babe to the house and Mom'll make some ice cream, an' we'll all play cards or somethin'! For Christ's sake!" He shook his head bewilderedly. "How stupid can a person get?"
I laughed gently. "You got your two tires anyway, then?" I said. "You stripped a couple off a parked car?"
"Well-uh-to tell the truth, Lou, I took four. I wasn't meaning to but I knew where I could turn a couple real quick, an'-well-"
"Sure," I said. "This gal was kind of hard to get, and you wanted to be sure of getting over with her. A really hot babe, huh?"
"Mmmmph-umph! Wow! You know what I mean, Lou. One of those gals that makes you want to take your shoes off and wade around in her."
I laughed again, and he laughed. Then it was somehow awfully silent, and he shifted uneasily.
"I know who owned the car, Lou. Soon as I get squared away a little I'll send him the money for those tires."
"That's all right," I said. "Don't worry about it."
"Are we-uh-can I-?"
"In just a little," I said. "You'll be leaving in a few minutes, Johnnie. Just a few formalities to take care of first."
"Boy, will I be glad to be out of here! Gosh, Lou, I don't know how people stand it! It'd drive me crazy."
"It'd drive anyone crazy," I said. "It does drive them crazy… Maybe you'd better lie down a while, Johnnie. Stretch out on the bunk, I've got a little more talking to do."
"But"-he turned slowly and tried to look at me, to see my face.
"You'd better do that," I said. "The air gets kind of bad with both of us sitting up."
"Oh," he said. "Yeah." And he lay down. He sighed deeply. "Say, this feels pretty good. Ain't it funny, Lou, what a difference it makes? Having someone to talk to, I mean. Someone that likes you and understands you. If you've got that, you can put up with almost anything."
"Yes," I said. "It makes a lot of difference, and-That's that. You didn't tell 'em you got that twenty from me, Johnnie?"
"Hell, no! What do you think I am, anyway? Piss on those guys."
"Why not?" I said. "Why didn't you tell them?"
"Well, uh"-the hard boards of the bunk squeaked- "well, I figured-oh, you know, Lou. Elmer got around in some kind of funny places, an' I thought maybe-well, I know you don't make a hell of a lot of dough, and you're always tossing it around on other people-and if someone should slip you a little tip-"
"I see," I said. "I don't take bribes, Johnnie."
"Who said anything about bribes?" I could feel him shrug. "Who said anything? I just wasn't going to let 'em hit you cold with it until you figured out a-until you remembered where you found it."
I didn't say anything for a minute. I just sat there thinking about him, this kid that everyone said was no good, and a few other people I knew. Finally I said, "I wish you hadn't done it, Johnnie. It was the wrong thing to do."
"You mean they'll be sore?" He grunted. "To hell with 'em. They don't mean anything to me, but you're a square joe."
"Am I?" I said. "How do you know I am, Johnnie? How can a man ever really know anything? We're living in a funny world, kid, a peculiar civilization. The police are playing crooks in it, and the crooks are doing police duty. The politicians are preachers, and the preachers are politicians. The tax collectors collect for themselves. The Bad People want us to have more dough, and the Good People are fighting to keep it from us. It's not good for us, know what I mean? If we all had all we wanted to eat, we'd crap too much. We'd have inflation in the toilet paper industry. That's the way I understand it. That's about the size of some of the arguments I've heard."
He chuckled and dropped his cigar butt to the floor. "Gosh, Lou. I sure enjoy hearing you talk-I've never heard you talk that way before-but it's getting kind of late and-"
"Yeah, Johnnie," I said, "it's a screwed up, bitched up world, and I'm afraid it's going to stay that way. And I'll tell you why. Because no one, almost no one, sees anything wrong with it. They can't see that things are screwed up, so they're not worried about it. What they're worried about is guys like you.
"They're worried about guys liking a drink and taking it. Guys getting a piece of tail without paying a preacher for it. Guys who know what makes 'em feel good, and aren't going to be talked out of the motion… They don't like you guys, and they crack down on you. And the way it looks to me they're going to be cracking down harder and harder as time goes on. You ask me why I stick around, knowing the score, and it's hard to explain. I guess I kind of got a foot on both fences, Johnnie. I planted 'em there early and now they've taken root, and I can't move either way and I can't jump. All I can do is wait until I split. Right down the middle. That's all I can do and… But, you, Johnnie. Well, maybe you did the right thing. Maybe it's best this way. Because it would get harder all the time, kid, and I know how hard it's been in the past."
"I… I don't-"
"I killed her, Johnnie. I killed both of them. And don't say I couldn't have, that I'm not that kind of a guy, because you don't know."
"I"-He started to rise up on his elbow, then lay back again. "I'll bet you had a good reason, Lou. I bet they had it coming."
"No one has it coming to them," I said. "But I had a reason, yes."
Dimly in the distance, like a ghost hooting, I heard the refinery whistles blowing for the swing shifts. And I could picture the workmen plodding in to their jobs, and the other shifts plodding out. Tossing their lunch buckets into their cars. Driving home and playing with their kids and drinking beer and watching their television sets and diddling their wives and… Just as if nothing was happening. Just as if a kid wasn't dying and a man, part of a man, dying with him.
"Lou…"
"Yes, Johnnie." It was a statement, not a question.
"Y-you m-mean I–I should take the rap for you? I-"
"No," I said. "Yes."
"I d-d-don't think-I can't, Lou! Oh, Jesus, I can't! I c-couldn't go through-"
I eased him back on the bunk. I ruffled his hair, chucked him gently under the chin, tilting it back.