The Best of Lucius Shepard (90 page)

—Did
you notice, he asked, how the entire school turned as one? Indeed, all the
actions of the underwater world seemed in concert, as though directed by a
single mind. Is it such a leap to conceive that our actions are so directed?

Hell
yes! would’ve been my answer, but Carl thought this was about the best thing
he’d ever heard. He jumped around in his seat, repeating portions of the
reverend’s lesson and said to Ava, You see? See what I mean?, like these
phrases connected with an argument they’d been having.

—I
know, she said, and patted his hand to calm him.

—A
single mind directed! he said loudly.

Several
of the ladies were shooting pissy looks his way. Anna shushed him and said
they’d talk about it later. But Carl wanted to talk about it right then and there.
I’d never seen him so heated up. Whenever the reverend’s voice carried to us,
Carl would go to chuckling, spitting back the reverend’s words, saying, Yes!
Yes!, and sputtering other foolishness, giving this weird sort of affirmation,
like he was a shouter in a retard church.

Eventually,
urged on by his outraged ladies, the reverend scooted out of the booth and
ambled over. He clasped his hands at his belly, delivered us a patient look,
and asked Carl if he wouldn’t mind toning it down.

Carl
beamed at him and said, Yes! A single mind!

Leeli
said, Can’t you see the man ain’t right! Ava offered an apology and I said, You
best take your fat ass on back to the hen house, or they gonna need another
rooster.

The
reverend armored his face with a smile and looked down on me from a peak of
blessed understanding. Young man, he said. Actually he said a good bit more,
but the words young man were all I heeded. When I was five Reverend Nichols
from the First Baptist told my mama having such a sweet little fellow as me by
his side would be an asset when he was doing fund-raising, and since this gave
her more time for drinking, she loaned me out to him on a regular basis. Young
man, he’d say once we were alone, wanna sit on my lap while I drive? Young man,
I’m gonna open you to God’s greatest gift. I didn’t much appreciate anybody
calling me young man, and I sure as hell didn’t want it from a preacher. I
caught him by the collar and yanked him down so he was gawking into the
leavings of my chicken-fried steak. The only thing I recall saying was,
Cocksucking holy Joe motherfucker, but I know I expanded on that considerable.
People were tugging at me, women were screaming, something struck the side of
my head, but I was serene in the midst of it, talking to the reverend, showing
him the ketchup-smeared edge of my steak knife.

Rougher
hands grabbed me and the reverend broke free. Two guys wearing aprons wrangled
me into the aisle, where we did some wrestling and grunting and swearing. A
swung purse the size of a satchel knocked one guy off me. I clocked the other
with a gut punch that cured him of upright and put him on his knees kissing the
carpet like a devout Arab. Shouting people choked the aisle, a few wanting to
get at me, the rest trying to get away. I heard Leeli cry, Maceo!, but I
couldn’t find her in the crowd, so I beelined for the exit, shoving aside
Christian and heathen alike. The manager loomed ahead of me. A porky fellow in
a maroon shirt and a black tie, his skin that spoiled pumpkin color comes
either from a tanning booth or somewheres in India. A wedge of old ladies
blocked him off to the left, clearing a path, and I went toward the door.
That’s when Carl shouted the magic words.

—Hands
up! he said with sincere ferocity. Who wants to die?

The
manager had retreated behind the cash register and Carl, beaming like a lottery
winner, was pointing a blue steel automatic in his general direction, swinging
the muzzle to cover the counter and a portion of window. People started hitting
the ground, hiding in the booths, and wasn’t more than a couple of seconds
before the only ones standing were the five in our party and the manager. You
could hear whispering and sobbing and the wheedle of some old pop song turned
into a symphony, but it was stone quiet compared to how it had been. Ava
slapped at her tote bag, gave it a squeeze, and that told me where Carl had got
his shiny new toy.

—Give
it to me, Carl, I said, easing toward him a step.

—Okay.
He kept on swinging the gun back and forth kind of aimlessly, like it had a
momentum that was carrying his arms through an arc.

—Give
me the gun, Ava said. You don’t need that gun now.

Squire
was at her shoulder, nodding as if he firmly supported this idea, and Leeli,
smart girl, was halfway out the door.

The
manager made a move for something under the register. Ava and I both shouted a
warning to Carl. I said, Watch it, man!, and Ava spoke what sounded like a word
in a foreign language—I couldn’t tell for sure because our shouts mixed
together. Carl whipped the gun around and fired just before the manager fired,
the explosions overlapping. Carl’s head jerked, blood sprayed. His bullet
kicked the manager into a buffet cart. He fell behind the counter. A few
screams speared the quiet. Smoke lazied in the air. Somebody’s lunch treat
sizzled and blackened on the griddle. I stepped forward and snatched the gun
from Carl. There was blood all over his face, but he was still smiling. Ava
wrapped him in a hug and hustled him to the door. I had a quick look back of
the counter. The manager was staring off into someplace I never want to see.
Frightened eyes were locked on me from every direction, like forest animals
peeping at a mangy tiger that had interrupted their play. I fired a shot into
the ceiling and told them not to twitch forever and ran like hell.

*
* * *

In the truck everybody talked
at once, except for Squire. He was gazing out the passenger-side window, having
himself a fine vacation. Ava and Leeli fussed over Carl in the back seat, and I
drove fast toward Ocala. I hadn’t put a face on the wrongness of what happened,
but it nibbled at the edges of a fucked-up angry fear that raised a red shadow
in my brain and jammed spikes into my bone-holes, making all my limbs want to
stiffen and wiggle like a bug with a pin through its guts. Leeli urged me to
drive faster and Ava said, Take us back to the motel! This all stirred in with
Oh Gods and Carl repeating over and over in a sunny voice, Hands up who wants
to die, shaping a child’s song of the line. I told them to shut the fuck up,
then I yelled it. For half a minute it was quiet. A big shopping mall come
floating up on our left. I slowed and swung the car into it. Ava screeched,
What’re you doing? as I swerved into a parking slot away from the buildings,
hidden by other cars from the highway. I switched off the engine. She clawed at
my shoulder, cursing and giving orders.

I
turned to her and saw that the manager’s bullet had dug a furrow along Carl’s
jawline. The wound was oozing blood, yet he didn’t seem to mind. I’m gonna find
us another car, I said. But we ain’t going back to no motel.

Ava
objected to this and I said, Here’s your keys. Go where the fuck you want. I’m
getting the hell gone.

I
climbed out and told Leeli to come along with me.

Ava
caught Leeli’s arm. I need her here!

—Well,
I need a look-out, so fuck what you need!

—Take
Squire, she said.

—Yeah,
that’ll help. Come on, Leeli.

Leeli
hesitated.

A
cop car whipped past on the highway, howling like a devil with a hotfoot.

—Goddamn
it! Now! I said. You wanna wait around ‘til he comes back for us?

Leeli
hopped out and glanced uncertainly between me and Ava. She blinked and shivered
as if the sun was killing her.

For
the first time ever I saw a distinct lack of confidence in Ava’s face. You
better not leave us here! she said. I swear to God!

—I
wasn’t thinking on it, I said.

*
* * *

There was some sort of
promotion going on within the mall. The lot was more crowded than you’d expect.
Jolly old farts wearing gaudy sport coats and blue Shriner-type hats were
holding bunches of balloons on strings, handing them out to children and
mommies, collecting money to cure some great evil that would never die, and two
lanes of parking were used up by a carnival with a little Ferris wheel, kiddie
rides, game and snack stalls. Some high school girls strolled in a small pod,
twelve tits in a row, those belonging to a hefty redhead nosing out a close race.
They were eyed by a pack of high school boys whose thoughts of rape had likely
gotten sly and civilized during hygiene class. Senior citizens dressed in peppy
colors gazed soberly at the wheel. I reckon they were recalling greater wheels
from the big glorious world that had died out from under them. Treacly music
played—the same, it seemed, that played everywhere I traveled.

Ava’s
gun was stuck in my belt, under my shirt. Its weight made me walk taller than I
should have felt. I held hands with Leeli, hoping to persuade folks we were a
young couple hot for some corn dogs or whatever hell meat they were pushing at
the carnival. We skirted the more populated area of the lot. I spotted a newish
Ford van with smoked windows. We snuck up on it from the rear. Just as I was
ready to pounce, Leeli warned me off. Standing a few cars over was a huddle of
men in blue hats. These old fellows had ridded themselves of balloons. They
were laughing, the nudge-nudge laughing men do when they hear a real good
smutty joke. The fattest of them had a two-handed grip on his belly, like he
was about to lift up a slab of fat and show them something even funnier. Of a
sudden the men rested hands on each other’s shoulders, forming a circle, and
bowed their heads, praying, I supposed, for more balloons or for Jesus to cover
the point spread against Satan or that one of the high school girls would lose
her mind and fuck them.

Out
front of the Home Depot was an old Chevy panel van. I busted the driver’s
window with the gun butt and hotwired it. The engine shook like the mounts were
loose and made a tired, trebly noise until I got it idling. Leeli brushed glass
off her seat and jumped in. I headed the van toward the nearest exit and she
dug her fingers into my thigh and asked where I was going.

—South
fucking America if we can get that far, I said.

A
pinch of time zipped by. Turn it around, she said.

—That’s
not gonna happen.

—I
mean it! You turn this thing right around!

—Fuck
you going on about?

—I’m
serious! She reached out with her left foot and stomped on the brake, nearly
swerving me into a parked Camry. I’m not running out on my friends.

She
kind of hiccuped over the word friends, but kept her gaze firm and determined.

—Your
friends? You talking about the Munsters back there?

Her
eyes flicked away.

—Oh,
okay. You’re talking about those twenty thousand friends. This ain’t about
twenty thousand dollars no more, Leeli. This here’s about twenty-to-life.

—I
don’t care!

—You’ll
care when those lifer bitches with the tattooed mustaches start wanting to get
cozy.

She
opened the door, planted one foot on the asphalt. I’m not staying ‘less you go
back for Ava and them.

—Those
motherfuckers gonna get us killed! They almost
got
us killed! —Way I see
it, you didn’t act such a fool with that preacher, Carl wouldn’t never done
nothing!

I
put my eyes out the windshield. A lost balloon was sailing off into the blue—it
vanished as it crossed the sun. Damn it, Leeli! Get your ass back in here!

She
slid down from the seat and stood in the glare, defiant as a dog off its chain.

I
gunned the engine. I’m leaving!

She
slammed the door shut.

—Something
wrong with those people, I said. Man’s shot in the face and it don’t even phase
him? Fuck is that? This ain’t nothing we should be messing with.