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“So it made me remember that Connor talked about having a date with the lady in green. You really don’t remember?”
Nelson had no memory of being told this, but to admit this to the rodent would give him way too much satisfaction. “Now I remember,” Nelson had said.
It wasn’t exactly the smoking gun Nelson wanted—“the lady in green” could mean a whole lot of things . . . but then again, wasn’t the statue a favorite protest spot for AWOL sympathizers? What was Lassiter planning?
What finally propelled Nelson to head north was the news report that he knew would eventually come. Argent’s picture with his hero, the Akron AWOL. Argent had been wandering out in the open for days. Someone will have recognized him; someone would turn him in.
Nelson knew he ought to cut his losses and take off alone, leaving Argent for the lions, but he found within himself the tiniest shred of pity and maybe even sentimentality. Argent had actually captured two AWOLs for him. A useless gesture, but the thought did count for something—because seeing those two bottom-feeders bound and gagged and practically gift-wrapped for him had brought some cheer to an otherwise miserable day. In time Argent could even be useful as a mole, infiltrating packs of AWOLs for him. So he hadn’t cut Argent loose. Instead he took him with him, following the threadbare lead to New York.
Now, as they cross from West Virginia into Pennsylvania, Nelson’s doubts begin to feel like roadblocks before them, and Argent will not shut his mouth.
“We should stop in Hershey,” Argent suggests. “They say the whole town smells like chocolate. There’s roller coasters there too. You like roller coasters?”
A sign up ahead says, PITTSBURGH 45 MILES. Nelson feels his fever coming back. His joints are aching, and his face stings from his own sweat. He resolves to take the night in Pittsburgh. He’s not up to driving through the night. He doesn’t even have the strength to shut Argent up.
“Yeah, New Orleans was something. I could spend some real time there,” Argent rambles. “I’ll bet that voodoo shop was something too. Saw a thing about it on TV once. You shoulda got us a voodoo doll of the Akron AWOL. Make him feel some of our pain.”
And now Nelson is glad he let Argent talk because it has turned out to be oh so informative. “Right. Make him feel our pain.” Nelson resolves to treat himself well tonight and do a full reassessment of the current situation.
Mary LaVeau’s House of Voodoo. Not something Argent heard out of Connor Lassiter’s mouth, but something he saw on TV. The rodent has no idea how thoroughly he’s just crucified himself.
43 • Argent
His mother always said, “When life gives you lemons, squirt ’em in someone’s eyes.” Argent knows that’s not the actual expression, but she was right. Turning your misfortune into a weapon is much more useful than making lemonade. He’s proud of the way he’s effectively blinded the parts pirate.
“I’ll bet there’ll be plenty of AWOLs for us to catch in New York, huh?” Argent asks as rural Pennsylvania gives way to the suburbs of Pittsburgh.
“Like rats,” Nelson tells him.
“Maybe you could catch a few,” Argent suggests. “Show me how it’s done. I mean, if I’m gonna be, like, your apprentice, I gotta know these things.”
The thought of traveling the country with a bona-fide parts pirate and learning the tricks of the trade actually excites him. It’s a career he could enjoy. He’s got to keep stringing Nelson along, though. Making him believe that he needs Argent—until Argent can really show him what a good apprentice he can be. Make himself a valuable asset. That’s what he has to do. But until then, he’ll keep Nelson dangling.
The man’s already given him some basic lessons, just in the course of conversation.
“Most AWOL Unwinds are smarter than the Juvenile Authority gives them credit for,” Nelson had said. “You set a stupid trap, and all you’ll get are stupid AWOLs. Worth a lot less on the black market. If the brain scan shows a high cortical score, you can double your money.”
So much to know about the art of entrapment!
While last night was a cheap motel, tonight in Pittsburgh, Nelson treats them to a two-bedroom suite in a fancy-schmancy place with doormen and half a dozen flags over the entrance.
“Tonight we indulge,” Nelson tells him. “Because we owe it to ourselves.”
If this is the life of a parts pirate, Argent’s ready to go all in.
The suite is huge and smells of fresh flowers instead of mildew. Argent orders expensively from the room service menu, and Nelson doesn’t bat an eye.
“Nothing’s too good for my apprentice,” he says, and raises his wineglass to emphasize the point. His own father was never so generous, either in wallet or in spirit. Nelson’s breathing seems labored. The good side of his face is taking on a pale sheen. Argent doesn’t think anything of it; right now Argent is all about his T-bone steak.
As their meal winds down, Argent drops his guard and Nelson begins to talk casually of the days ahead.
“New York’s a great town,” Nelson says. “Have you ever been?”
Argent shakes his head and swallows before he speaks, so as not to appear too uncultured for a room service meal. “Never. Always wanted to go, though. When our parents were alive, they used to say they’d take us to New York. See the Empire State Building. A Broadway show. Promised us the world, but we never went anywhere but Branson, Missouri.” He takes another bite of steak, imagining the food will be even better in the Big Apple. “I swore to myself I’d go there someday. Swore I’d make it happen.”
“And so you did.” Nelson wipes his mouth with a silk napkin. “We’ll have to make time for some sightseeing while we’re there.”
Argent grins. “That’d be sweet.”
