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the man. I do what you say.”
“But if I find out you talked to somebody you shouldn’t, I’ll be back. It’s called aiding and abetting and obstruction of justice. What that means is I’ll take you back with me to the Iberia Parish jail. The guy who runs it is a three-hundred-pound black homosexual with a sense of humor about which cells he puts you guys in.”
He rubbed his mouth. His hand made a dry sound against his whiskers.
“Look, I didn’t see you, I didn’t talk to you,” he said. “Okay? I’m going home sick. What you said about the AB, it’s true, it’s lifetime. If one guy doesn’t take you out, another does. I’m a four-buck-an-hour beer bartender. I’ve got ulcers and a slipped disc. All I want is some peace.”
“You’ve got it, partner. We’ll see you around. Stay away from phones tonight, watch a lot of television, write some letters to the home folks.”
“How about treating me with a little dignity, man? I’m doing what you want. I ain’t a criminal, I ain’t your problem. I’m just a little guy running around in a frying pan.”
“You’ve probably got a point, Harvey.”
I unbolted the door and watched him walk to the bar, say something to the barmaid, then leave by the side door and drive up the dirt road in a paintless pickup truck. The dust from the parking lot drifted back through the rusted screens in the late-afternoon sunlight. Once he was out of sight, it would not take Harvey long to decide that his loyalties to the bikers and Eddy Raintree were far more important to his welfare than his temporary fear of me and the Iberia Parish jail.
I returned to the bar and asked the barmaid for a pencil and a piece of paper. She tore a page from a notepad by the telephone and handed it to me. I scribbled two or three sentences on the back and folded it once, then twice.
“Would you give this to Elton for me?” I said.
“Elton Rupert?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure.” She took the note from my hand and dropped it in the letter box behind the bar. “You probably just missed him. He usually comes in about four o’clock.”
“Yeah, that’s what Harvey was saying. Too bad I missed him.”
“Too bad?” She laughed. “You got stopped-up nostrils or something? Trying to open up your sinuses?”
“What?”
“The guy’s got gapo that would make the dead get up and run down the road.”
“He has what?”
“Gorilla armpit odor. You sure you know Elton? He stays in that shack by the levee and doesn’t bathe unless he gets rained on. I don’t know where he gets off knocking the niggers all the time.”
“I like your earrings.”
“I got them just the other day. You really like them?”
“Sure. I’ve never seen any made out of .38 shells.”
“My boyfriend made them. He’s a gun nut but he’s real good at making jewelry and stuff. He’s thinking of opening up a mail-order business.”
“Elton doesn’t have a phone, does he?”
“He doesn’t have any plumbing. I don’t know why he’d have a phone.”
I looked at my watch.
“Maybe I have time to stop by his place just a minute. It’s not far, is it?” I said.
“Straight down the road to the levee. You can’t miss it. Just follow your nose. Hah!”
“By the way, how’s Elton’s eye?”
“It looks like worms ate it. Are you doing some kind of missionary work or something?”
