Have Mercy (Have a Life #1) (19 page)

It was five o’clock in the morning by the time we got to Park’s Auto Shop in Hagerstown.  We got out of the cab and stretched while the tow truck driver unhitched the van.  The parking lot of the garage was jammed with cars.

              I looked at the shop.  It was closed and a sign on the door said they opened at eight o’clock.

              “What are we supposed to do until eight o’clock?” I asked.

              “You can do whatever you want,” the tow man said, and with that he got in his truck and drove away, leaving us to sit on the step waiting for the mechanic to show up.

              “I got to get some coffee,” Clarisse said.  “Anybody want to walk with me?  It looks like town is that-a-way.”

              Nobody did, so she took off while Tim examined the van in the morning sunlight.  “All of your tires are as bald as a baby’s ass,” he said.

              “No kidding,” Captain Kirby said.

              “We should probably get four new tires before we try driving all the way to Nashville.”

              “Houston,” I corrected them, in case they forgot.

              “I meant Houston,” Tim said.

              The owner of the shop, Jin-ho Park, a middle-aged Korean man, arrived at seven.  A cute Korean boy about our age followed him out of his SUV.

              “Triple A called that you were here,”Jin-ho said.  “So I thought I’d come.  Tires, no problem.  I got lots of tires.  New.”

              He put the van on the lift and he and Tim and Captain Kirby discussed the fact that it needed a tune-up, an oil-change and as Tim said, four new tires.

              While they were dickering about how long this was going to take and if Clarisse—who had come back with a carrying tray of coffees and a bag of bagels—could be persuaded to front us the money so we could continue, the Korean boy came over to me.

              “This sucks,” he said.  “The flat.” 

              “Yeah.”  His hands had black grease in the creases just like his father’s.  “You work here too?”

              “Supposedly.  I’m supposed to be learning mostly.”

              “Learning what?  Mechanics?”

              “No, I’m supposed to be learning how hard
he
has it so I’ll want to go to college.  But I mostly get people coffee and lunch because he doesn’t trust me to work on the cars, which I can actually do but he doesn’t know it.  I mean, I’m here every summer.  Doesn’t he think I learned
any
thing?”

              “Don’t you want to go to college?”

              “
He
wants me to.”  He jerked a thumb towards the garage where his father was explaining why he had other jobs which had to be done before he got to Captain Kirby’s van.  “Doesn’t your father want you to go to college?”

              He had me there.  The Griffin and I had never had a conversation where we discussed my future.  “I’m going to be a rock and roll star.  So, it’s irrelevant.”

              “Is your dad going to let you
do
that?”

              “Well,
he’s
a rock and roll star.”  It bothered me now that The Griffin never told me what he thought I should be, what I should do.  I felt aggrieved.  Wasn’t that part of his job?

              The boy sighed.  “I’m supposed to be the first Korean president of the United States.”

              I burst out laughing then the boy did too. 

              “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?  Do I look like a president of the United States?”  He looked off into the distance, his thumb and forefinger pinching his chin.

              “It’s not that you don’t look like a president,” I said, “It’s just pretty obvious that you don’t want to be.”

              “Well, then maybe I will be,” he said.  “See how screwed up I am?  Just because you don’t think I want to be, I’ll say I want to be.  I don’t even know what I want.  It’s all
his
fault.”

              “Seong-min!” the elder Korean yelled.  “Get us coffee!”

              “See ya,” Seong-min said.

              “Yeah.”

              Jin-ho Park had to work on a Hummer and an Audi and a Lexus SUV, take a coffee break and do some inspections and then have lunch before he changed our tires, oil and tuned the engine.  It was three o’clock in the afternoon by the time he was finished.  Clarisse worked it out with Tim that she would pay for the repairs on
our
“band bus” but that Tim would owe her as soon as we made a hit.

              “This stinks,” Captain Kirby said, “But Jin-ho said we wouldn’t make it to Nashville, let alone Houston, without the repairs.”

              “I know,” I said.  At least we were getting back on the van and heading towards Nashville which was en route to Houston.  God, it seemed an eternity away.

              I looked for Seong-min to say goodbye.  He was behind the garage smoking a cigarette, fiddling with a couple of bolts on a rectangular object with holes for cylinders.  He was totally engrossed in what he was doing and looked up only when I kicked a piece of glass.  “Look, it’s an old gasket head,” he said.  “I found it in the junk yard the other day.  They don’t have them on cars anymore.  They have a computer chip instead.  Isn’t this cool?”  He held it out to me to inspect.  “The old ones were way cool.”

              “Goodbye Mr. President,” I said.

              He got up and bowed his head.  “Goodbye rock and roll star.”

Clarisse decided to ride all the way to Nashville with us—I mean, Captain Kirby decided for her—and we arrived on the Nashville ring road just before midnight. 

              “Go straight to the Hyatt,” Clarisse said.  “That’s where Bilbo holds court on Friday nights.”

              Bilbo was the person who was going to help us cut the demo, at least I guessed that was the plan because I had slept for most of the nine hours it took us to get there to avoid having to deal with the fact that I had totally lost control of the trip. 

              “Can’t we just find a motel first?” I asked.  “I really need a shower.”

              “We can get a room after we meet Bilbo,” Tim said self-assuredly. His self-assurance had been swelling up since Clarisse handed him the cash to tip the tow guy.  It was really annoying how much he was enjoying being a kept man.

                            Tim pulled the van under the Hyatt overhang and a valet with a mane of glossed black hair

combed straight back in a pompadour appeared.  He walked around the van then signaled Tim to roll down the window. “You’re kidding, right bro?  The bathrooms are for guests.”  Clarisse leaned over Tim and stuck her head out the window. “Oh, Miss Davenport,” the valet said. “I didn’t see you.” 

              Clarisse got out and walked around the van. “Good evening, Robert,” she said, handing him the keys and tucking a twenty into his vest pocket.  “This is a band bus. We’re filming tomorrow.”

              “Got it, Miss Davenport,” the valet said.  “Whatever you need.”

              Tim got out of the van and stuck out his hand.  “Tim Coles,” he said.

`              “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you,” the valet said.

              I looked at Captain Kirby with a this-has-gone-far-enough-please-help look. Kirby had exhumed herself from her sleeping bag and was watching all this with a giant grin on her face—it registered with me that this was her kind of game.  She pulled open the sliding door and jumped out.  “Let’s check out the party,” she said to me. 

              Clarisse led Tim through the lobby ahead of us into the hotel club, Mangoes.  A not-bad band was playing and a stage hand was having a lot of fun with the stage lights, flicking them red, then blue, then bright white in rapid succession. 

              “There’s Bilbo!” Clarisse said, waving then moving through the dancers on the floor.

              “Who’s Bilbo again?” I asked Tim. 

              “He’s going to arrange our demo.”

              “Oh.”

              “It’ll only take a couple of days, Mercy,” Tim said.  “In a couple of days you’ll have a demo you can hand The Griffin.  It’ll be really cool to walk into his dressing room with a demo.”

              I didn’t answer. 

              “I know you want to get right to Houston,” Tim said.  “But Clarisse is doing us a real solid you know?”

              I didn’t know.  Not really.  I mean, what was the point of making a demo of a song I didn’t write?

              “You think it’s a good idea, don’t you?” he asked. 

              “Yes, of course.  A great idea.”

              Clarisse came back.  “Bilbo’s over there.  He’s one of the most powerful men in Nashville.”  She pointed at the smallest person at the crowded bar who raised a glass in our direction.  He was sitting on a high bar stool with his legs dangling just above the foot rest.  The other people at the bar had on jackets and ties.  Bilbo was wearing a black leather vest open to his navel.  Tons of gold gleamed on his chest and on his fingers. He was bald on top and bushy above the ears.  Clarisse grabbed Tim by the sleeve.  “Come on!  He’s dying to meet you.” 

              “He actually
looks
like a hobbit, don’t you think?” I said, laughing over my shoulder to where Captain Kirby had been standing. 

              I looked around and saw her engrossed in conversation by the kitchen door with a petite female security guard who was fiddling with her gun belt as she and Kirby talked.  When Kirby felt me watching them she smiled and waved me over.

              The closer I got, it became obvious the security guard looked like a beautiful doll. Everything about her was in perfect miniature proportion.  She gave me a jealous once-over as I crossed the room then the expression on her face changed from suspicious to relieved.  Her metal nametag said “C. Reina-Navarre.”  She stuck out her hand, “Carmen.  But call me Carmencita. Everyone does because I’m so small.”  She gave me a dazzling smile.

              It was the first time in my life I didn’t feel like the little shrimp.  “Hi,” I said.  “Mercy.” 

              “Hey, guys,” she said, “I’m still on duty and have to do rounds again in five.  We can meet for breakfast when my shift is over. Meet me at the
Cocina Salvadorena
at six, okay?  It’s right in the building.”  She grabbed a cocktail napkin and drew a map, underlining her cell phone number twice. “In case you get lost,” she said, smoothing her jet hair.   “They do amazing
huevos rancheros
24/7. 
Hasta luego
,” she said, touching Kirby’s hand and smiling. 

              The air was so thick with pheromones that I fanned myself to get some oxygen.  Carmencita patted her holster and walked away, looking back once to give Captain Kirby a final dazzling smile. 

              I snapped my fingers in front of Kirby’s face as she watched the elevator door close on Carmen. 

              “Come back to planet earth,” I said.

              “I like it
much better
on this planet,” Captain Kirby said.  “Is she the coolest or what?”

              “How would you know?  You just met her.”             

              “I gotta learn Spanish right away.  Damn.  I should have taken Spanish instead of shop.  You’re taking Spanish aren’t you?”

              “Yeah, well, I can read it better than I can speak it.”

              “We gotta do a brain transfer between now and breakfast.”  She kept looking at the elevator which had whisked Carmencita out of sight.  “She has five brothers and sisters.  Her whole life revolves around her family.”

              “She’s beautiful,” I said.

              “And
funny
!” Captain Kirby said.  “I feel like I’ve known her all my life.  But I’ve only known her for an hour.  She’s going to night school.  She wants to get her bachelor’s degree in police science and become a forensic specialist or something and put her brothers and sisters through college. I really admire that.”             

              “Fifteen,” I said.

              “Fifteen what?”

              “You’ve known her for
fifteen minutes
. Not an hour.”

              “Well, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since… since never. I think I’m in love.”

              “Captain Kirby, I hope you don’t mind me pointing out that Carmen has told you she plans to go into law enforcement, is in fact already a cop, and you’re, well, you have a talent for crime you have to admit.”  I was being really snarky, hoping to bring back the derisive Captain Kirby who would take my head off for being a jerk.  But Kirby was in a trance and didn’t notice.  

              “Crime is just one of my talents.  I can reform.  I
want
to reform!  Say something in Spanish,” she commanded.             

              Captain Kirby had been hit by the thunder bolt, which I knew a little about because of my feelings for Tim.  Everything I knew about Captain Kirby up to now included me.  I didn’t know
how
to have a relationship with her where I wasn’t on the first team.  And anyway, the idea that she could be in awe of someone was mind boggling.  The lid of Kirby’s box exploded off and blew away with a woosh.  I closed my eyes and tried to will it back like it was a boomerang or something but it was gone.

              Kirby shook my arm.  “Tell me how to say ‘What should I order for breakfast?’”

              “Carmen said
huevos rancheros
are a specialty where you’re going to meet her. So say, “
Me gusta huevos rancheros’
. That will impress her,” I said and looked away.

              Tim was engrossed in conversation with Clarisse and Bilbo.  He felt my eyes boring into his neck because he massaged it and turned around, saw me and waved me over.  I waved back but didn’t budge. 

              Up until right then I hadn’t let myself consider whether Tim was falling in love with Clarisse.  Maybe you fall in love with people who can do things for you.  Maybe I fell in love with Tim because he kept saving me.  Maybe Carmen would save Captain Kirby.  I could see that.  Maybe you fall hardest for a person who knows like absolutely nothing at all about who you’ve been up till right then.  Maybe I should find out where the lady’s room was because I wasn’t feeling so hot.  My stomach was spazzing like crazy.  

              “
He perdido ambos mis amigos,”
I said.

              “Hey, that sounds great.  Say it again.”

              “That actually doesn’t have anything to do with your breakfast date. It just came out.”

              “Come on, Mercy.  Help me out here!”

              “Okay.  Okay.  How about: I want something spicy. 
Quiero algo picante.”

              “
Quiero algo picante.
I want something spicy. That’s perfect.”  Captain Kirby put her head back and laughed then repeated the phrase a couple of times.

              “
He perdido ambos mis amigos.  Quiero irme al aeropuerto.”

             
“Should I learn that too?” Captain Kirby asked earnestly.

              “No, I was just thinking aloud.”  I have lost both my friends.  I want to go to the airport.