You've Got Something Coming Page 3

  “I’m a boxer,” he said. Like there was nothing else he had ever been or could ever be.

  “Ah,” the woman said. “You must have had a fight recently?”

  “Just the other day.”

  “How did it go?”

  “I did all right. Took a bit of a beating, I guess. I had a lot on my mind. If you wanna fight well, you can’t be thinking of anything but the man across from you. My movement was off. My breathing was off. My mind was somewhere else.”

  Trucks reached over and swept some of Claudia’s hair behind her ear.

  “I bet that makes for a long night,” the woman said. She smiled. Trucks could see it in the rearview.

  “That’s for sure,” Trucks said.

  “You ever been hit before?” Claudia asked the woman.

  “Jesus,” Trucks said. “I’m really sorry. She’s never like this.”

  “Why can’t I ask questions?” Claudia said.

  “It’s okay,” the woman said. “It’s a perfectly fine question, but it’s not one I want to answer. Is that fair?”

  “Yeah,” Claudia said.

  Trucks couldn’t tell if he was overreacting. He’d told Claudia what to say and not to say to draw as little attention to them as possible. Yeah, his face was messed up and they were an odd hitching pair, but what could he do about it?

  “Can I sit with you?” Claudia asked.

  The woman didn’t answer right away. “If it’s all right with your father, sure,” she finally said. “I could use some frontseat company.”

  Trucks didn’t like the idea, but he could see the way Claudia was drawn to the woman.

  “Sure, okay,” Trucks said.

  The woman grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and put it on her lap. “She can just come between the seats. I’ve got the wheel steady. No traffic.”

  Trucks took Claudia’s hand. She bent down and stepped between the seats. Trucks guided her forward. Claudia plopped down in the passenger seat.

  “Buckle,” Trucks said.

  Claudia clicked the belt in place. The woman moved her purse from her lap to the floor in front of Claudia’s feet. Claudia stared at the woman. Watched her delicate hands on the wheel. Her bright nail polish.

  “I like your smell,” Claudia said.

  “Thanks,” the woman said. “It’s called Purely Passion, made from fruits and flower petals from South America. It’s supposed to make men desire you, but I don’t know.”

  She laughed. Claudia giggled.

  “Here,” the woman said, pointing to her purse. “Dig around. It’s in there somewhere.”

  Claudia leaned forward and picked up the purse. She sifted through it. Then she pulled out the woman’s pocketbook and opened it.

  “June,” Claudia said, looking at the woman’s driver’s license. “Like the month.”

  “Ugh, just ignore the hideous photo,” June said.

  Trucks leaned forward and looked at the driver’s license. He thought she looked surprisingly pretty in the photo. Her blond hair was bright and straight, her blue eyes striking. He’d tried not to stare at her much because he didn’t want her to feel even more self-conscious or defensive than she probably already did.

  “Well, I’m June. I feel rude now. I should have introduced myself from the start. You’re my first hitchhikers, so I don’t know the etiquette. Plus, I was nervous.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Trucks said.

  June smiled. Trucks returned to the backseat.

  “How about you two?”

  “Us?” Trucks asked.

  “Yeah, what should I call you? Hitcher One and Hitcher Two?”

  “Oh.” Trucks paused. “Now I’m being rude. I’m Ezzard. That’s Pearl there, rifling through your purse.”

  “Yeah, Pearl,” Claudia said.

  “It’s nice to meet you both. Ezzard! What a fascinating name.”

  It was the first name that popped in his head. Ezzard Charles was his favorite classic boxer. A real ring technician. Trucks had learned a lot from reading about Charles’s movement and punching techniques. Like how to throw a jumping hook with his lead left hidden behind the jab. It was something he’d tried to mimic in the ring.

  “It’s one of those family names,” Trucks said. “My grandfather’s middle name. It gets passed down to one or another of the kids. Lucky me, huh?”

  “Very unique,” June said.

  “So I guess you picked up one of those Ezzard boys,” Trucks said.

  “Sure looks like it,” June said. “And, like I said, this isn’t normal for me. I’ve never picked up hitchhikers before, but I saw you carrying your daughter on your shoulder, and something made me pull over. I felt an incredible rush when I stepped on the brake.”

  “I know what you mean,” Trucks said.

  “Plus, you’re so adorable,” June said to Claudia. “Those curls! I just want to touch them.”

  “You can,” Claudia said. She grabbed a handful of curls and held them out toward June.

  June reached over and ran her delicate fingers through Claudia’s hair. Her face glowed with June’s touch.

  “How far do you think we are from your hometown?” Trucks asked.

  “Kadoka’s probably three hours away still,” June said.

  “That’s a good distance.”

  “Yeah. I’ve made this drive so many times over the past months. It’s nice to finally have some company.”

  Trucks wondered how such a kind and good-looking woman like that didn’t have company on her trips.

  Claudia put the pocketbook away and finally got to the perfume. She turned the onion-shaped bottle in her hand. Sniffed it. Flicked the little pump.

  “Can I try some?” Claudia asked.

  June looked in the rearview.

  “Sure,” Trucks said. He hadn’t seen Claudia so taken with someone before.

  “Just spray a tiny bit on the insides of your wrists and pat them together,” June said.

  Claudia squeezed the pump a few times. “Oops. A lot came out.”

  June laughed. “Rookie mistake.”

  Claudia smacked her wrists together. She was really enjoying this.

  “Now spin off the top,” June said.

  “Like this?” Claudia asked. She turned the top of the bottle until it came off. She held the open bottle in one hand and the top with the dangling pump in the other.

  “Just like that,” June said. Then she reached over. “I’ll just borrow the bottle a second and show you something.” June took her other hand off the wheel and steered with her knees. Claudia watched with great interest. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but what the heck. This is a driving trick you’ll get used to when you’re doing your makeup in the crappy sun visor mirror or flossing on your way to work.” June put her forefinger on the top of the bottle, turned it over, and set it right again. She reached over with her perfume-dampened finger and rubbed a couple quick circles behind Claudia’s ears. “And there you go, curly girly. That’s the secret spot.”

  June handed the bottle back to Claudia. Claudia spun on the top and ran her fingers around the embossed edges of the logo on the glass. She didn’t say anything. She just kept tracing the logo. Trucks was intently listening and watching. Was he this engaging with Claudia? He really appreciated how June connected with her. How their energies ran together.

  “Will the other kids like me if I wear this?” Claudia asked, without looking away from the bottle.

  June looked at Claudia. She reached over and ran her hand through Claudia’s hair. “You sweet thing,” she said.

  “I’m afraid,” Claudia said.

  “Of what?” June asked.

  “The kids in Nevada. That they’ll make fun of my hearing phones.”

  Hearing aids. Trucks thought it but said nothing.

  “Oh, darling,” June said. “You cherub thing.”

  Claudia grabbed June’s hand and held it to her cheek. Closed her eyes. Sighed like it’s all she ever wanted.

&nbs
p; Trucks watched the closeness they were sharing. He felt a pain inside. Something so deep he didn’t even know. He ached with a fear that had bled through him since he lost his girl the last time. And he’d decided it would be the truly last time. No matter what. And he’d do all he could to protect her waning innocence from hardship or struggle or pain or loss. Despite this beautiful moment, everything in his being said this: Go. Go. They must always go.

  THE GRAY KARMA

  They stood outside the Archibald Suites. It was cold and dark. Winter’s dusk always comes early. Claudia pouted away from Trucks with her arms folded over her chest. She wouldn’t look at him.

  Trucks had turned down June’s offer to take showers in her hotel room and rest. Now he had his thumb out, trying to pick up rides from the parking lot exit back onto the interstate. He’d tied the Hallowell sack to one of the belt loops on the side of his pants so he wouldn’t have to hold it. There were cans of beans in there and the toothpaste, the brushes, the skinny metal can opener, some bottles of water, a jar of peanut butter, and rice cakes.

  Trucks turned away from the road and looked at Claudia. “Are you done pouting?”

  “No,” she said. She breathed hard. Her shoulders came up and down.

  “Come help me hitch.”

  “She said we could have showers. It’s cold. I feel icky. I wanna be warm and clean and sleep in a real bed.”

  “Don’t you think I feel disgusting and wanna rest too? I’ve got dried blood on my face, swollen to high hell knuckles, and haven’t slept in—forget it.”

  “So let’s go back. She’s looking at us through the window. Pinky promise. I can see her up there.”

  Trucks turned, but he didn’t see June in any of the windows. Most of the room lights were on. Half-drawn drapes and silhouettes of standing lamps. Nothing more.

  “You don’t wanna owe people,” Trucks said.

  “Huh?”

  “First it’s showers and rest. Then what? What comes after?”

  “A puppy?”

  Trucks laughed. “No, you knucklehead. At least look at me when we’re talking. Come on.”

  Claudia turned toward him. “But now I can’t see her in the window.” Claudia looked back at the rising windows of the Archibald. Her desperation made him nervous. She put one of her big-gloved hands to her brow. She scoured the building, standing on her tiptoes. “And it’s getting colder. We’ll freeze.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Claudia looked at him again. “So? We still could. Come on, please?”

  “I don’t know,” Trucks said. He looked at the passing cars, their headlights stabbing the dark. How many more would zip by?

  “So what comes after? I don’t get it,” Claudia said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me. I wanna know.”

  “No.”

  “Tell me what comes after the showers and rest.”

  Deeper attachment. Connection. Disappointment. Loss. Heartbreak.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “You always say that.”

  “Well, everything is complicated.”

  “Can we make it not that way?”

  “You can’t undo the way the world works.”

  “What stuff can we undo?”

  Trucks thought for a moment. “Just try to do everything as perfectly as possible the first go round so you don’t have to have conversations about how to undo the mistakes you’ve made.”

  “Like what sorta mistakes? Are they really bad?”

  “Sometimes the mistake isn’t some huge thing. Sometimes you do something simple, something stupid, like fall in love.”

  “But that looks happy.”

  “Yeah, well it won’t be stupid when you grow up and you do it, okay? It’s only stupid for some of us. And sometimes you make a choice or take a path or tie your life to a person and it all gets fucked up beyond your wildest imagination. And then you wonder if it’s because the world’s just set on some path of chaos or because you built up some dark karma over time. And lots of nights you lay awake wondering if you deserve these things or not. And that can really mess with you, so don’t go thinking like that.”

  Claudia looked confused.

  “No swears,” she said.

  “Sorry. I’ll work on it. Look, I don’t know what I’m talking about, anyway. It’s late, and we’re both tired.”

  “But what’s dark camera?”

  “Karma.”

  “It sounds like candy.”

  “Well, it’s not. Some people think you build up karma over your life. The more good you do, the more good or light karma comes your way. The more bad you do—you get the idea.”

  “Are we good-karma people?”

  “You’re a great-karma person. I know that much.”

  “But you?”

  “I don’t know. Probably grayish karma.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We all build up a good amount of both kinds of karma. You just want the light to outweigh the dark in the end. But to outweigh it all your life would be best. There’s still hope for you to do that.”

  Claudia stood there. Thinking. Then she looked up at him. “So you tried to do good a lot, but sometimes it didn’t work, and you turned gray? And then there was mistakes and Mama disappeared.”

  Claudia bit the fingers of her glove.

  Trucks tried to think. There was a buzz in his mind. His brain still rattled from the fist-to-noggin damage a few nights before. His girl was cold, and he needed to do right by her. So he took her by the shoulders, spun her toward the Archibald Suites, and said, “Jesus Christ, Pepper Flake, is she up in the window or not?”

  CATCHING THE GHOST

  June hadn’t been standing at any of the windows. Trucks and Claudia found her in the hotel lounge. She was sitting on a stool with her legs crossed, a cocktail in front of her. One of her white pumps dangled off her heel.

  “A milk for the lady?” June said.

  Claudia sat in the middle.

  “We’re really on a budget,” Trucks said. “I’ve got some waters in here.” He pointed to their Hallowell sack.

  “I’ll pay,” June said. “Problem solved.”

  “Plus, it’ll help my bones,” Claudia said.

  Trucks put the sack on the stool next to him.

  “Can’t beat that,” June said. “Would you like a drink, Ezzard?”

  Trucks paused. Then he remembered his false name.

  “I don’t drink anymore.”

  “We have coffee,” the bartender said. He’d seemingly come out of nowhere. “Or we can do fresh-squeezed juices, smoothies, infused teas.”

  “What sorta tea?” Trucks asked.

  “I can bring you a tea list.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Trucks said.

  “We have an organic rooibos. How about that? It’s imported from South Africa. It’s quite high in antioxidants.”

  “That’s a long way to go for some tea.”

  The bartender looked at June, then back to Trucks.

  “I’ll try it,” Trucks said.

  “Sure thing,” the bartender said. “Anything else?”

  Trucks noticed some cut lemons on a saucer behind the bar.

  “How about some of those lemons?” Trucks pointed. “Are they extra?”

  The bartender laughed. “Not at all,” he said. He gave June an awkward smile and walked away.

  “So you decided to wise up and come inside where it’s warm,” June joked.

  “Apparently,” Trucks said.

  “It’s freezing outside,” Claudia said. “Feel.”

  Claudia put out her hands, and June held them.

  “Aren’t you a little icicle!” June said.

  “It’s not so bad. We didn’t have heat sometimes,” Claudia said.

  “Oh,” June said. She looked at Trucks.

  “We lived in a rough part of town. Sometimes when the winters got real bad with heavy snow and ice, we’d lose power. The city work
ed on our lines last. The poor folks, you know, don’t matter much to them.” But it wasn’t always that. Sometimes he didn’t have the money to pay the utility bill or forgot to do it. Sometimes both.

  June thought for a moment. She said, “A lot of snow and ice storms in Georgia?”

  Claudia looked at Trucks.

  “We were in Maryland for a while,” he said.

  June nodded. She rubbed Claudia’s hands real fast to warm them up. She made whooshing sounds when she did it. They smiled at each other. Like two glowing orbs.

  Trucks looked at the bartender. He opened an orange tin and used a metal tea-leaf infuser to scoop out the tea. He dipped the infuser in purified water, hooked it on the edge of a fancy teacup with purple flowers painted on it, and poured in boiling water. He capped the teacup and let it sit. Claudia’s milk sat on the back bar with a straw in it.

  “What’s yours?” Claudia asked June.

  “It’s a Jack Rose.”

  “I like it all pink. It looks pretty.”

  “People don’t drink these old-time cocktails anymore,” June said. She picked up her glass and took a sip.

  “How come?” Claudia asked.

  “Some things just go out of style. Though, believe it or not, I live on Jack Rose Court. Imagine that. Of all the names.” She looked at Trucks.

  The bartender set Claudia’s milk in front of her.

  “I can make yours pink too,” the bartender said.

  “Yes!” Claudia said.

  The bartender held up a finger, gave her a wink, and walked away. Trucks didn’t like that the bartender could hear everything so well. The guy seemed nosey.

  The bartender came back with a bottle of strawberry syrup and a small plate. He squeezed a few drops of syrup into the pale milk. Soon it was pink, and Claudia was happy. She swirled the milk with her straw. The bartender set down the small plate; it had two cherries on it. He slid the plate between Claudia and June, and they gave each other a big-eyed, open-mouthed look.

  “Well, thanks a million,” June said.

  “A bajillion,” Claudia said.

  “My pleasure,” the bartender said. He checked on the tea, then said to Trucks, “I’ll let it steep a few more minutes.” He gave Trucks the saucer of cut lemons and walked to the end of the bar.