Death Will Help You Leave Him (27 page)

“Vince! What are you doing? Stop! Stop!” Carola’s horrified screech distracted him. I risked a quick glance. She stood on the stoop, the kid in her arms. His wail added to the commotion. Vinnie gathered himself for the kill. I could feel it. The knife in his clenched fist glinted as it started downward. Before it could strike, a berserker joined the fray. Luz had picked up the
pasteles.
She used them as a weapon, whacking him over the head and shoulders again and again. They weren’t frozen solid enough to do any damage. But she got his attention. Then she sank her teeth into his knife arm and hung on like a terrier.

Meanwhile, Carola sat the kid down on the steps. She ran screaming toward us. I landed blows wherever I could as she seized his other arm. He twisted from side to side, roaring like a wounded bull as he tried to shake off the three of us. He hadn’t dropped the knife. I tried to grab his wrist. He whirled away from me, jerking his arm free from Luz’s clinging jaw. The momentum threw him against Carola. The tip of the knife sliced down her cheek. He checked it, but too late. She clapped a hand to the cut. Blood ran out between her fingers. At that moment, Luz charged in again, head lowered. Vinnie saw her and leaped out of her way. Carola didn’t. Luz’s head butt hit her in the solar plexus. She reeled back into the street just as a gangsta car, an airbrushed Eighties Caddy with a hip-hop station blasting, screeched around the corner. It hurtled down the block at twice the speed limit.

Carola tripped and fell against the car’s aggressive hood as it flashed past. The impact flung her into the air. Like Laura, except that nobody broke her fall. The car didn’t stop. They never do. The Caddy fishtailed around the corner, trailing taunting lyrics. Neighbors began to come out on their stoops. Maybe somebody had caught the plate number. More than one would have called the cops. Carola lay like a broken doll.

Behind me, I heard something metal clatter to the ground. With a howl of anguish, Vinnie stumbled past me. Luz squeezed in against my side. My arm moved without volition to hold her close. Vinnie fell to his knees. He gathered Carola up in his arms. Nobody could have stopped him. I didn’t try. I hoped her spine would be okay. Vinnie rocked her in his arms. Emotion wrenched the sobs out of his chest and forced them through his throat.

“No,” he sobbed, “I didn’t mean it. Not you, not you. Anyone but you.”

Carola wasn’t dead. I was glad. The first ambulance rushed her away, while a neighbor took charge of the little boy. We would find out soon enough how Vinnie had worked her into his plans. In the meantime, the cops booked him for assaulting Luz and locking her in the trunk. He’d said enough to tag him as Frankie’s killer. Now they knew, the cops seemed confident they could find the evidence. I stuck to Luz like glue while the cops and the second set of EMTs duked it out over whether she went to the precinct or the hospital. The hospital won, even though it turned out her arm wasn’t broken, just badly sprained. The cops asked as many questions as they could before the painkillers kicked in. Someone would get in touch tomorrow, once they’d worked things out with the Manhattan homicide guys.

They let me come in the ambulance. She threatened to throw a fit if they didn’t.

“Considering,” I told her, “you did a damn good job of saving me. You went charging into battle wielding the mighty
pasteles.
”

“When I thought he would kill you, I forgot my arm. It hurts now, but it didn’t then.”

“Adrenaline,” I said. “Here. I rescued them. What do you want me to do with them?” I held out the now completely soggy package.

It was good to see her laugh.

“I think you came too late to save them. Throw them out, please. Only you must never, never, ever tell Tia Rosa.”

This conversation took place in the ER. Before it could continue, a young woman in a white lab coat with a stethoscope slung around her neck came in.

“Ready to go home?” she asked Luz.

“Oh, yes!” She wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t like hospitals. Oh! Sorry, I do not mean to insult you.”

The doc laughed.

“No problem. I’m not responsible for the décor— or the smells. Or managed care.” She turned to me. “You with her? We’re not admitting her, but she still needs an escort to leave.”

“Oh, Bruce, no,” Luz protested. “You have already done so much. I can call one of my cousins to come and get me.”

“And wait till they get here all the way from East Harlem? No way. I’ll call a car service and see you home.”

I didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone in the apartment. It was still the place where Frankie had died. She insisted on making me soup. Or rather, since she had a bum arm, I opened the can and made it under her supervision.

We sat at her kitchen table. I slurped, she sipped. I let the whole day go and considered the joys of comfort food.

“I should call Barbara,” she said. “So much has happened that I forgot about her. I left a message asking her if she thought I should accept Carola’s invitation.”

“I know. I was with her when she listened to it. She left one back. I guess you never heard it. What happened with your cell phone?”

“Oh, I was so lucky I had your number. I had only a moment to call, then he snatched it away and smashed it against the curb.”

“I didn’t see it. I bet it spun away beneath the car. The cops will find it.” I thought about it. “You remembered my number? You must have dialed like lightning.”

Her lashes came down over her eyes.

“I had you on my speed dial.”

“Oh. I see.” Yeah. I did. “Luz.”

She looked up. For a moment our eyes met. Then we both turned away.

“I wish—,” she said. “I can’t— . I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I said. “Bad timing.”

“Yes.” She jumped up. “Let’s call her now.”

I pushed back my chair.

“You got a landline?”

I know all Jimmy and Barbara’s numbers by heart. I dialed their landline.

Jimmy answered. “Where are you, dude? I’ve been trying to get you for hours.”

“My cell phone went. I’m up at Luz’s. We’ve had quite a time, but we got the murderer. It was Vinnie. You won’t believe what happened.”

The soup had put fresh heart in me. All of a sudden images and feelings flooded in. I couldn’t dam them up. I didn’t want to. I started pouring the story out to Jimmy. It took him several tries to stop me. Finally, he drowned me out.

“Whoa, dude!”

I pulled to a verbal halt.

“What?”

At that point, a familiar click heralded Barbara’s arrival on the extension.

“Did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

“For God’s sake, Jimmy!”

“Vinnie killed Frankie, he attacked Luz, they’re both at Luz’s, and I’ve been trying to get a word in edgewise.”

“Let me tell him,” Barbara said.

“No, I’d better do it,” Jimmy said.

“Yoo-hoo,” I said. “Can I join this conversation? Do what? Tell me what?”

“It’s bad, buddy.” Jimmy’s somber voice chilled me out in a hurry. But how bad could it be? Luz and I were fine. So were Jimmy and Barbara. We were all right here.

“Laura’s dead.”

The trouble with shutting the door on one compartment of your life while you go and deal with another is you can’t see what’s happening behind that door. And if you don’t know, you can’t stop it. All of a sudden, Luz’s homey kitchen felt like a soundproof room. The refrigerator stopped humming. The water she’d put up to boil for tea or coffee steamed silently. The air took on a shimmer, flashing between dark and bright as if someone had turned on the strobe lights.

“She called me.” My voice came out a croak. “And I didn’t go. Luz had just called. In trouble. I thought it was just Laura’s usual bullshit. Oh, God, what have I done?”

“It’s not your fault,” Jimmy said. “She’d cried wolf a hundred times.”

“You couldn’t have stopped her,” Barbara said. “Not if she really meant it.”

“I should have known,” I persisted. “I was just so mad—”

I didn’t want to go into the whole sex and jealousy drama. Not with Luz listening. I didn’t want her to know I’d kept sleeping with Laura. Even though Luz and I had just agreed our being an item wasn’t going to happen. But I was such a bonehead. This wasn’t about my love life. Laura was dead. This time she had really gone and done it.

“Killed herself,” I said. Maybe if I said it enough times it would sink in.

“Who?” Luz cried.

“My ex-wife,” I said. “Laura.”

“Bruce.” Jimmy’s voice called me back. “Are you still there, man? Are you okay?”

“Of course he’s not okay,” Barbara snapped. Then, “Sorry. Sorry to both of you— I’m upset too.”

I felt stupid. I didn’t know what to say or what to ask. How? I knew how. I had always thought the bucket and the knife were just props for her histrionics.

“How did you find out?”

“The boyfriend, Mac, came in and found her,” Jimmy said. “He called the cops. The cops found my number on her cell phone, I guess because she called you here so many times. They’ll want to interview you, but I’m sure it’s no big deal. Mac would be way up ahead of you on the list.”

“There is no list,” I said. “She did it herself.”

“He found her in the bathtub bleeding out,” Barbara said.

“They said ‘apparent suicide’ as if they meant it,” Jimmy said. “They must have found the knife in the right place.”

“Did she leave a note?”

“They didn’t say.”

“What did she say on the phone?” Barbara.

“Same old drama queen threats as always,” I said. “I was going into the subway. I told her I couldn’t come.”

“She meant to succeed,” Barbara said, “or she wouldn’t have gotten in the tub.”

“She did that after she talked to me. It
is
my fault. If I’d gone down there, she’d still be alive.”

“If you had, I would be dead.” I’d forgotten Luz was there. She had moved up close enough to hear what Barbara and Jimmy said.

“I can hear Luz,” Barbara said. “Let me talk to her. It sounds like she had a rough day too.”

“I did,” Luz said. “Vinnie locked me in the trunk. He would have killed me if Bruce hadn’t gotten me out.”

“My God! Look, this is silly. Give Luz the receiver,” Barbara said. “No, wait, I want to tell you this first, Bruce. It wasn’t your fault! What Laura did was shitty. She’s dead, I’m sorry, I know you’re sad. But suicide sucks. She let you believe it was the same old histrionic act she always pulled. She knew, you knew, she knew you knew how it went. And then, when you finally stopped enabling her, she up and did it for real. She knew how bad it would hurt you, and she chose to do it. She punished you good for saying no to her, and it was a cruel, selfish thing to do.”

“Thanks, I feel a lot better,” I said, my voice bleak. I couldn’t even summon up the sarcasm that used to fuel everything I said.

Barbara has a good heart.

“Oh, Bruce, I’m sorry, I really am,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make it worse. Suicide makes me mad for the survivors’ sake, but if that doesn’t help you, I’ll shut up.”

“Really?” I surprised myself by almost laughing. “Jim, you want to get that in writing before she changes her mind?”

“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” Jimmy said. “Come over in the morning.”

“We’ll have bagels and lox,” Barbara said.

“And maybe take in a meeting,” Jimmy said.

Barbara being Barbara and Jimmy being Jimmy— now, that did make me feel better.

I woke with a furry tongue and dragon breath. But no hangover. Nice change from the bad old days. I grabbed a cup of coffee at the corner bodega and caught the crosstown bus with my eyes still sticky.

Luz had decided to spend the day hanging out with her aunts and cousins. I suppose she had uncles too, but they didn’t seem to count. I wondered if she had alcoholism in the family. She’d never said. Maybe with Frankie gone, she’d withdraw from the whole world of recovery. Barbara would be disappointed. She believes everybody in the world could use Al-Anon. But I could see Luz eventually marrying some nice Puerto Rican boy who went to church. She might come to remember this part of her life as a bad dream.

After breakfast, Jimmy talked us into going to a meeting. The closest His and Hers lay on my side of the park. We decided to walk across.

“What are you thinking about?” Barbara asked.

“Luz’s future,” I said. “Without me. Without any of us.”

“Daydreaming about someone else’s life?” Barbara said as we skirted the Great Lawn. “You
do
need Al-Anon.”

“Riding Bruce instead of thinking how you’ll feel if Luz pulls away from program?” Jimmy teased. “So do you.”

She swatted him on the arm.

“You’re getting too smart.”

“I’ve always been smart.”

The damp, gray day hovered just above freezing. Now maybe it dropped a degree, because lazy, wet snowflakes began to drift down. Those that fell on the path melted as they landed. But the faded grass began to take on a powdering of white.

Barbara stuck out her tongue like a little kid and caught a snowflake on the tip.

“I guess my inner child will feel abandoned,” she admitted. “Not Luz’s fault.”

I wasn’t up to a discussion of Barbara’s inner child this morning. I changed the subject.

“So Vinnie killed them both, Frankie and then Kevin.”

“I think he did,” Jimmy said. “Marla said she’d tell the police everything she knows.” He added, “I think she’s going to make it this time. She’s really working her program.”

I’ll never be like Jimmy. He finds recovery more interesting than any other topic in the world. Except maybe the fourteenth century. No, not even.

“Kevin was mad at Frankie for bringing an outsider to a closed meeting,” Barbara said. “Apart from that, he probably didn’t think anything of it. But once Kevin knew that Frankie had been murdered, he must have wondered. Then he spotted Vinnie at the funeral.”

“Poor Kevin,” Jimmy said. “The disease killed him. He tried to stay clean, but he still wanted desperately to get high.”

“He needed money to score,” I said. “And once he thought of blackmail as a good way to get it, that was it. Bad move, blackmailing a murderer. ‘Stinkin’ thinkin’.’” Another AA expression.