w i n t e r
vanishing point
Before she'd stepped outside she put on "Laika", and turned up "If you miss". From the cracked window it sounded like rain. She inhaled deeply.
From the fire escape she could see all the way down Bessemer and had only the Dixie really blocking her view. It was shitty of him to put the car sideways that night, loosing control on purpose, she could've hit him for Christ's sake. She drew deep again, trying to calm down. What had started as a game for her had begun to get out of hand. "Can this thing lose it?" The words came back over a couple nights foggy time. "Hell no," he'd said, "This thing is on rails. Always." He'd flashed that crooked smile of his and climbed behind the wheel. She was following, not even close, but she saw the car break in the corner up ahead and rotate a full 270 degrees before coming to a stop on the slick pavement. He put it right back into gear and drove off, the smell of rubber heavy in the air.
"Guess I was wrong."
That was all he had to say when she pulled up behind him outside the party. Prick. Oh yeah, she let him have it allright, but he didn't even seem to care. What's more, she was sure he didn't care. And then later at the bar she'd left the note and he didn't even think about that either. Just fired off the response, what was he doing up at 6:45am anyway. They, the two of them, were out until just after 3:00am.
So now she was stuck. Stuck on her fire escape, smoking, awaiting the time. Then she got it. Maybe it was "44 robbers". It didn't come quick, but rather blurry and slow like a polaroid.
She'd turn Sue on him.
It would be easy enough to do. Sue owes her. It was all fitting together, she'd plant the book with Ben. Oh yeah, Ben. Hell, he never leaves the bar, but as far as literature goes, he's the one. Of course owning the last mom & pop used book operation in town didn't hurt, but he always had what she wanted. She reached in the window and picked up the phone off the sill.
"Ben? Yeah, I...I need a favor. I need to borrow a book. Yeah, yeah, you'll get it back, safe and sound I promise. What title? Oh, I'd rather not...yeah, it's one from upstairs...yeah same shelf, uhuh. I'll meet you there in an hour? Yeah, yeah you too, thanks."
Okay she had the title, he never expect it. She could just about see the scene play itself out now. He'd order a black & tan and stand next to Ben. The bar would be dark and stale smoke from the five-o- clockers would still be hanging around. The cherry bar would have the same dull shine. Looks good on top but full of bubble gum underneath. Ben would lean over for an ashtry, exposing the title on the leather cover for just a fraction. He'd be looking. He be looking because Ben would be in the spot. She wouldn't have to leave a message this time. Ben would *be* the message. And the title, that would be the answer she'd supply.
goodnight 1.27.99