Sparkle (34 page)

“We’re done,” the officer said.

“I’ve got some business with you, young man,” the landlord said.

“You know what?” Joe said. “Don’t worry about it. No charge.”

He walked to the van, leaving the landlord staring after him. He climbed in wearily and cranked it. The van didn’t want to start.

“Oh, come on!” Joe’s voice sounded far away, as if some other idiot was talking and screwing everything up, and he was just watching. He cranked the van again, and it finally turned over.

He revved the motor, then noticed how tightly he was wedged in between the police cars—and how badly he wanted a cigarette.

He managed to get one lit and, in an uncharacteristic move, pulled on his shoulder harness. Maybe it was the realization that cops surrounded him, or the thought that Eddie would want him to, or LaVonne’s voice in his head, or maybe a premonition; but the few seconds it took, fumbling with shaky hands, made Joe even more frantic to get to the hospital. He craned his head backward to check out the car behind. Thank goodness, the guy was taking pity on him. The cop waved at Joe, started his engine, and backed up to give him a bit of room.

“Thank you,” Joe mouthed, still looking back.

He threw the van into gear blindly and pushed down on the gas. The van shot forward instead of back.

Joe slammed into the car in front. The side of his head banged into the doorjamb. He heard a distant tapping, and turned to see one of the cops knocking on his window. He rolled it down, dully.

“You alive?” the cop said.

Joe wished he wasn’t. “Yeah.” He held his pounding head with both hands to keep it from flying off.

“It’s not your day.” The cop pulled the door open.

“No,” Joe said. The cop helped him stumble out. Joe’s head and neck hurt like hell. His hands felt wet. It was blood.

The cops insisted on calling another ambulance. Just as they settled Joe inside, his phone rang. Maybe it was work. They were going to need all they could get to dig themselves out of this hole.

“Sparkle Cleaners.” It hurt to talk.

“Hey, Joe.” LaVonne sounded cheerful. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I got tomorrow night off. I thought maybe I’d come over, bring a movie—something relaxing. Something ordinary. Maybe even boring.”

The ambulance turned on its siren.

“That sounds awfully close, Joe. Is everything okay?”

An hour and a half later, Joe was sitting on the edge of an examination table as a busy, distracted emergency room doctor finished stitching up his head. Joe hadn’t seen Eddie, but he had managed to get a nurse to check on him and report that he was still unconscious. Stable condition. No sign of internal hemorrhage. That was all.

The doctor examined the five stitches he had placed inside the little shaved spot on Joe’s head, untied the bib around Joe’s neck, and handed it to the nurse. He shone a light in Joe’s right eye.

”Am I going to make it?”

The doctor moved the light to Joe’s left eye. “I’d say probably, considering. How do you feel?”

“Like an ass.”

“That’s good. Don’t have a cure for it, though. I could give you a sedative.”

“No, thanks. I just want to see my brother.”

LaVonne poked her head into the exam room. “Hi, Joe.”

“Hi. I’m sure glad to see you.”

“I guess we’re done, then,” the doctor said. “How’s the neck?”

“Not too bad,” Joe said, “unless I move it.” He was holding the neck brace the doctor had given him.

“Put that on,” the doctor said. Joe obeyed. “It might get worse in the next couple of days. If it does, call me, and I’ll get you a prescription for some muscle relaxants.”

Joe slid cautiously off the table and walked out into the hall. LaVonne hugged him, and this time he hugged back. In fact, he didn’t want to let go.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I was going to call when I didn’t need something—”

“I called you, Joe.”

“Yeah. Right in time to save my butt once again.”

“I’ll send you a bill later.”

“Get in line.”

“Alright,” Even though she was only trying to cheer Joe up, LaVonne could see the joke hit a nerve. She changed her tone. “I stopped by Eddie’s room.”

“You did? How is he?”

“He looks relatively okay. He seemed restless, not peaceful, like when he was sleeping the other day. He’s still out, though.”

“Did the doctor tell you anything?”

“Are you kidding?” LaVonne shook her head ruefully.

They walked down the busy hallway to the elevator. “I called a tow truck for your van,” she said. “They’re going to leave it in front of your house.”

“You’re a life saver,” Joe said ruefully. He wondered how badly it was screwed up. One more bill to worry about.

“Yeah. Listen, Joe. I went to meet the tow truck.”

“Thanks,” Joe said.

“You didn’t lock the van.”

“Yeah?” Joe said cautiously, wondering what he’d messed up now.

“Well…I found the flowers. And the letter you wrote. I wouldn’t have read it, but it started out, ‘Dear LaVonne.’ You don’t know anyone else named LaVonne, do you?”

“Oh, God,” Joe moaned, holding his head. “I mean, no, of course not. I wasn’t going to—”

“Those flowers were pretty shot, Joe. Did you buy them after you kicked me out that night?”

“Yeah.”

“So why didn’t you give them to me?”

“They…weren’t good enough for you.”

LaVonne looked at him. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Uh-huh,” Joe said. “Okay.”

When they separated, LaVonne said, “I’m going to tell you something, Joe. You’re strong enough for this. I know you’re struggling, but you can do it. And if you keep trying, I’ll keep standing by you. But you do need to stand.”

“Okay.” Joe reached out and took her hand in his as they walked into Eddie’s room.

The room was a double, and the other patient was out cold too, either sleeping or comatose like Eddie. Joe walked over and put his hand on Eddie’s forehead.

“He told me he wanted this to be our last blood-and-guts job. I never would’ve taken him there if I’d known it was Jolie’s place. How would he have known that?”

“Maybe he saw a picture of her or something in the house. How come you didn’t know whose house it was?”

“Because I didn’t want to,” Joe said. “I never want to know.”

Chapter 51

Eddie was flying through a whirl of chaotic images. Every job he’d ever done—everything he’d ever done—streaked and burst like shrapnel through his head.

The images passed by so quickly that he wanted to grab on to one of them, hold on and make sense of it. But his mother’s voice kept pleading with him to let go, let go. Maybe it wasn’t about getting anything back. Maybe it was about letting it all go. Helping it go.

With that thought came a flash of his mother’s face. She smiled, loving and impossibly weary, and then faded away.

Eddie’s heart grew enormously, as though it were going to explode, and then he was a little boy again, in the basement of his parents’ house. The Shiny Gold commercial blared behind him, barely recognizable. The light was pale, the colors washed out, and everything bobbled like Jell-O. Eddie pressed his face against the cool door. He knew the shots were coming.

Although they were as loud and horrifying as ever and echoed on and on, this time he didn’t jump back when they came.

LaVonne admired Eddie’s face as she and Joe stood by his bed. He looked young and fresh. There was something almost pretty about him.

But his right eye was badly bruised, his head was heavily bandaged, and tiny beads of sweat were forming on his upper lip and brow. His eyes darted back and forth beneath the lids, as if he was watching a movie in his head.

Joe and Eddie did have a family resemblance after all, LaVonne realized. They had the same full lips, strong chins, and long eyelashes. But Eddie was darker and much softer looking, while Joe’s face was lined with stress—especially between his eyes—and marked by his old deep scar.

LaVonne had cut Joe more slack in one week than she ever had anyone. She felt passion for him, it was true. But even more than that, she felt friendship, concern, and hope. Even now, after all that had happened— way too fast—she didn’t want to run away. It was amazing. And Eddie was definitely a part of it.

Nothing about Joe and Eddie was ordinary. Whatever crazy stuff was going on with these two, it was drawing her in deeper all the time.

Eddie’s eyelids fluttered. Joe grabbed a tissue and dabbed his brother’s brow.

“You’ve got to get better,” he said earnestly, hoping Eddie could hear him. “This place sucks.”

All of a sudden Joe flashed on what jail would be like, and his throat tightened. Maybe that wouldn’t happen. Maybe they’d only be faced with bankruptcy. He sat down again.

He wished he were in bed with LaVonne, sleeping, dreaming up this whole mess. He’d wake up and it would all be gone.

Except for LaVonne.

“Can I ask you something? Something kind of important?” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Sure, why not?” At this point, he literally had nothing to lose.

LaVonne put her hand on his. Even though it was resting on his thigh, she felt it shaking slightly. “You wrote about it a little bit, but not enough for me to really understand.” She hesitated. “What happened to you guys? I mean, when you were little?”

Joe removed his hand and rubbed the side of his face, rubbed his scar. No one had ever bothered to ask him that question.

“Something kind of bad.”

LaVonne waited.

“I was thinking maybe I should quit smoking.” Joe wavered. “Maybe I could get… some of that gum, or a patch or something,”

“I think that’d be great, Joe. But maybe you should wait until things calm down a little. I think you’re probably already dealing with enough stress.”

Joe rubbed the top of his chest, under the neck brace.

“So I didn’t ever tell you about what happened?”

“No, Joe, I don’t think you did.”

“Well, the thing is…when Eddie and me were real little…our dad killed our mom.”

“I’m so sorry, Joe.”

“Yeah, well…shit happens. First, he shot me. That’s where I got this scar. I was lucky, though. I think that was an accident, sort of. Then he killed Mom. Then he…killed himself.”

LaVonne didn’t say anything. She knew what it took for Joe to open up this way.

“The funny thing is, I don’t really think about it,” Joe went on. “Ever.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I mean, I don’t really think it even affects me that much. But it affects Eddie a lot. He wasn’t always like he is now. When he was little—he was very advanced for his age. He was only six when it happened. But he was really smart and strong. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was perfect.”

“Did he get shot too?”

“No, he had locked himself in the basement. And then he came out, and c-c-cleaned everything up. It was really freaky. He didn’t say a word for like a year afterward. So…I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“I’m glad you’re telling me, Joe.”

“He was always special. He was smart—really smart.”

“What about you?” LaVonne said.

“I’ve always been stupid.”

A plump Hispanic nurse in her mid-forties walked in, all bustle.

“How’s our boy doing?” She prepared to do a blood draw.

Joe winced as she poked at Eddie unsuccessfully. He stirred uncomfortably.

“Hold still, hon,” she said.

“What’s the blood for?” Joe asked.

“Just a test.”

“No kidding,” Joe said, sarcastically. “What kind of test?”

“You’ll have to ask the doctor.” The nurse seemed to be having trouble finding a vein.

“When’s he going to be here?”

“Soon, I think.”

“’Soon’ like tonight, or ‘soon’ like in the morning?”

The nurse frowned, as if she’d decided that he was a problem visitor.

“I’m sorry, who are you, exactly?”

“Dr. Kevorkian.”

“Doctor?” the nurse said, the name going right over her head.

“I’m his brother.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure when the attending doctor will be here, Doctor. You’ll have to ask your brother’s nurse.”

“I thought you were his nurse,” LaVonne spoke up.

“I was, but my shift’s just ending. Can I get the nurse for you?”

“Never mind,” Joe sighed.

The nurse left the room, and LaVonne smiled at Joe. “Dr. Kevorkian?”

“Yeah, well.”

“I’m sorry, Joe, I know the timing’s horrible. I’m so sorry. I wish I could stay, I really do, but I have to go to work. I’m already late, and I just can’t afford to miss tonight. I’ve still got tomorrow off, though.”

“No worries.”

“I want to talk to you. I want to hear about what happened to you. I’m incredibly touched that you would share this with me. Joe. Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“Want me to come over tonight after I get off? It’d be late, but I could. I’d like to.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to spend the night here.”

“Of course,” LaVonne smiled sadly. “Want me to call you tomorrow?”

“That’d be great. Maybe we could even watch that movie.”

LaVonne leaned over and tenderly kissed him, then she stood and leaned over Eddie.

“Bye, Eddie,” she whispered in his ear. “Hurry back. Your brother needs you.” She kissed Joe again and left the room.

Joe looked at the clock on the wall: 10:00
P.M.

Chapter 52

Saturday

Joe drifted in and out of a sweaty uncomfortable sleep in the chair next to Eddie’s bed, his head drooping awkwardly over his neck brace. The doctor had never come, so Joe still didn’t have a clear idea of Eddie’s condition. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he couldn’t sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. The place was simply too damn uncomfortable, and Joe was agitated beyond belief.

He’d tried to keep himself distracted watching crappy late-night TV with the sound turned down to almost nothing, as if anything might wake Eddie up. He’d paced the corridor, exhausted all the magazines in the visitors’ alcove down the hall, drank four or five Sparkle Zings—extra ingredient: caffeine—and gone out for smoke after smoke. All the other visitors had gone home long ago. The nurses smiled at him thinly, telling him time after time that while he was welcome to stay, he would be much more comfortable if he just went home and came back in the morning.