Callisto (24 page)

“Come on, Odell, we're outta here.”

She grabbed my arm and yanked me towards the front
doors and was still yanking hard when we're outside. “That scheming son of a bitch,” she says. “He had no right, no
right
… What did you tell them, Odell?”

“Nothing much, my name and how old I am, then Andy wanted to know where Dean is, and I told him In America and he got mad about something … then the guy said he's canceling the interview.”

“And that's as far as it went?” We're standing between her car and the truck now, and Lorraine kept looking back at the station like she's expecting Andy to come out with a rocket launcher or something.

“He canceled it, and Andy got mad.”

“They didn't slap you around or anything, nothing physical? Because that's against the law.”

“No.”

“Well, you looked almost like you were crying when you came out. They must've done something to get you upset like that.”

I couldn't tell her they wanted me to shoot Flag, she wouldn't have understood, especially after she told me not to talk about that book to anyone.

I said, “What does Cole look like?”

“What?”

“Cole Connors, what does he look like?”

“Look like? Was he in there too?”

“No.”

“He's around forty, losing his hair with a gut.”

So there's no way she can think he's more good-looking than me, that was a big relief because I'd been wondering about that, maybe even getting a little upset.

“Why would you want to know something like that?”

“Oh … I've got this inquiring mind, I guess.”

“Odell, do you have a problem concentrating on stuff? Has anyone ever said to you that you have this problem?”

Well, I don't have any such problem, I just proved that by concentrating very hard on Flag getting shot, concentrated so hard I brung the whole interview to a close, shut it down, the whole operation, so it just doesn't make sense for her to be accusing me of this.

“No.”

“It's just I sometimes get the feeling you and me, we're on a different wavelength or something, you talk so weird.”

“No I don't.”

“Well, from now on if Chief Webb tries to make you do something, give an interview or whatever, you tell me immediately and we'll get you a lawyer.”

“I don't want a lawyer, I didn't do anything.”

“So what? This is America. If you haven't got a lawyer you're dead meat.”

“I think I want to go home now.”

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine,” I said, and I was because Lorraine is acting real concerned for me, which goes to show she cares, anyone could see that.

“Do you know the way from here?”

“I know Callisto pretty good now from the lawnmowing.”

“Well, avoid taking Eagle Avenue. There's a baseball game at the high school and the traffic gets bad.”

“Are you going to the game? We could go together.” I was thinking how nice that'd be, her and me in the bleachers with
Cokes and hot dogs rooting for the home team, which is the Callisto Cougars – Go Cougars! – but she shook her head and says she doesn't want to bump into Cole Connors on a Saturday afternoon who'll be there because his oldest boy is on the team.

“But isn't he your friend?”

“Cole and I see plenty of each other during the week, Odell. Even friends need a break from each other.” Which is a philosophy I agree with, only then she says, “Anyway, his wife'll be there and I can't stand that bitch. So listen, you go on back and maybe I'll talk to you tonight.”

Away she drove very fast without waving bye-bye. I watched her little car disappear around the corner with smoke coming from the exhaust so it needs a tune-up, then I turned around and saw Chief Webb at the top of the station steps watching me and smoking a cigarette at the same time, only he wants me to think he's only out there smoking, which I knew better because I can see his eyes looking at me even if his face is turned the other way. He really did not like me, that man, and I didn't do anything.

I was about to get in the truck when my new phone rung. I took it out and keyed it and it's Agent Jim Ricker on the line. He says, “How are you, Odell?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Did you have your interview yet?”

“Interview?”

“I'm told you're scheduled for an interview today. Did you have it yet?”

“Uhuh.”

“And how did that go?”

“Not very good.”

“Why's that, Odell?”

“Chief Webb thinks I'm lying about everything just because I got Saturday and Sunday mixed up.”

“It's Chief Webb's job to be of a suspicious nature.”

“But I didn't do anything.”

“A very familiar phrase, but the law requires that certain steps be taken, including interviewing innocent parties from time to time.”

“He's so suspicious he's watching me right now.”

“Is that right? Take his picture and send it to me, Odell, I'd like to see what this guy looks like.”

“Okay! Hold on …”

I lined up Chief Webb and shot him for around five seconds till he noticed and stared directly at me, looking pissed, then I pressed the Transmit button.

Jim says to me, “Okay, there he is. He doesn't look all that bad, Odell.”

“You'd have to meet him to know. And how'd you know about me getting interviewed anyway?”

“Don't go worrying yourself about that, Odell. I'm your friend and my little bird keeps an eye on all my friends, wherever and whenever.”

I looked around for the little bird, kind of half expecting to see him peeking at me around a corner or something, but there's only Andy Webb over there on the station steps flicking his butt away into the car park, so how can Jim Ricker be keeping an eye on me like he says he is … unless he's watching me by spy satellite! I looked up but of course you can't see those things they're so high, especially in daytime. Homeland
Security, it's obvious now that I thought about it, they have got all this billion-dollar technology to be snooping on terrorists and Enemies of the Nation so why not use it to keep watch over a friend also which Jim told me he thinks I'm that, a friend. This has gotten very serious now with spy satellites beaming down at me protectingly this way.

“Okay,” I told him, giving a wave at the sky that he'll see on his screen inside the secret Homeland Security spy station buried under a mountain somewhere that you'd think is only rocks and trees, but underneath it's like a James Bond movie with computers and blinking lights and very serious people watching bad guys from the edge of space. “I understand.”

Chief Webb was watching me wave. When I did that he looked up in the sky, then stared at me very hard, not even bothering to pretend he isn't, then he shook his head and went inside the station.

“That's good, Odell,” says Jim. “Now understand this, we're handling the situation by remote, you might say, which means you and me, we won't be meeting face to face, that'll be done on the ground by other agencies including the police, do you follow? You'll never see us personally. Why? Because, my friend, you are bait.”

“Bait?”

“With which to trap a terrorist.”

“Like Sammy bin Laden?”

“No, like Dean Lowry.”

“Oh, right.”

“Maybe you still think of him as your friend, I can relate to that, only sometimes our friends are something we never suspected, Odell, something that strains the friendship when
finally you find out about it. That's Dean. You didn't know he's a murderer and terrorist, did you.”

“No, it was a big surprise.”

“Exactly. Now it could be that Dean will want to get in touch with you, Odell, if he finds himself between a rock and a hard place. Could be he'll try to exploit the friendship by asking you to help him out somehow, drive him across the border or something of that nature. What would be your reaction if that happened, if Dean Lowry approached you for assistance?”

“I'd be surprised,” I said, which I would be seeing as he's dead and buried.

“Well, don't be, it might happen, and if it does, you use that new phone to call me and let me know. You're still a player in this game, Odell, maybe even an important one. Expect another interview soon, maybe even today. The Bureau has been slow to move on this, way slow. Heads will roll for that.”

“Bureau?”

“FBI. That little town of yours has become a focus of attention. You still didn't change your ring tone.”

“How do you know that?”

But he rung off without even a goodbye. Agent Jim Ricker had got the strangest way of talking but he's likely a very busy man with no time for chit-chat so it's understandable. He seemed like a nice person so in a way it's a shame about us not meeting face to face. Or maybe not, seeing as I would have to lie direct into his face about things if we did. That made me sad for a minute, thinking about that, but I have got no choice now except keep on lying about Dean or be in Very Big Trouble about everything.

I
t sure had been a long day and I wanted to go home, but before I did that I went to the liquor store for more beer and another big bottle of the Captain. They had a special on for Carlsberg so I got that, plus Cheetos and Doritos for food variation which is necessary for good health, also beer nuts that have got nourishment in them, that's why monkeys and elephants eat them.

Then I went on home but forgot about Eagle Avenue and got stuck there for a little while in the traffic for the big game, but then I'm through and on my way again, feeling good about things mostly which has always been my way. There are people that are forever thinking dark thoughts and frowning hard about this and that but I am not that kind, no, I don't see the point in that. When things were bad for me in Yoder with my old man I didn't get to brooding and moping the way some might have. Corky Busch, for instance, who had this big problem with his old
man that wanted him to be in the hardware store that he owned and take over one day, a family business since way back when, only Corky wanted to be a gangster instead and talked like a black kid, Yo muthafuckuh etcetera and wore the baggy clothes like a Skater only no skateboard. Corky was the only Gangsta in town, which made him lonely, I guess, with no gang to help him kill people and do drug deals and so forth. His old man went on and on at Corky about the hardware store until the time Corky got his gun to complete the costume and used it to shut his old man up and fled the scene. Corky went down to Colorado and shot someone else in a convenience store and ended up in prison where he got to join a gang after all, the Aryan Brotherhood, so I bet he quit talking like a black kid. This is what happens when you think dark thoughts, and you are better off not doing that.

The afternoon was half gone when I put the beer in the fridge and turned on the TV for company. There's no news at this early hour except on the news channel so I watched that thinking maybe there'll be something about Dean I didn't already see, but mainly it's about some war going on in Africa where there is always some war going on there. I can't see why because they have got nothing over there except AIDS and starving people, so why fight over that? Pretty soon there'll be no Africans left to fight each other, they will all be dead from disease and bullets and the animals will take over again, lions and zebras and so forth for the tourists from over here. Well, there was nothing I could do about that situation but it dented my mood some seeing all these little kids with just rags on their little bodies and maybe an AK-47 in their hands if they didn't have AIDS yet.

While I'm waiting for something about Dean I heard this car coming up the drive and got up fast thinking it's Lorraine come over to be with me, but when I looked it isn't her car it's someone else, maybe the FBI come to interview me like Jim Ricker said they would. But it turned out to be Officer Dayton when he gets out of the car. I felt something like fingers close around my heart then, thinking maybe he needs to get more video of the grave, but then I saw he hasn't got his camera so that's okay, only why the heck is he here?

He come up on the porch and said, “Hello,” very friendly, not grumpy like he was this morning over Saturday duty and again this afternoon at the police station. And he isn't wearing his cop uniform so this is not police business he's here about. I opened the door and we went on through to the living room.

“Want a beer?”

“I could go for that.”

“Are you all done with police work for today?”

“All over and done with.”

I got him a cold one and he popped it. “Not watching the Red Sox game?”

Well, I wasn't, he could see that, but I can take a hint and surfed around till I found it to keep him happy because a happy cop will do you no harm, I'm thinking. We watched it for a few minutes and he whooped when someone hit a home run, then he kind of looked over at me like he just now noticed I'm there and he's not at home watching his own TV.