Authors: Martha Conway
Nicola rolled Dave’s chair into Chorizo, who was still struggling on the floor, then she pushed Dave around the side of the chair and off of it and pulled him through the doorway. Her arms felt like noodles. I will not let the drug take over, she thought. I will not let it. I have to stay conscious.
Everything now was in absolutes.
Chorizo began thrashing around under the chair and got it moved aside, then he pulled the futon frame with him to the door and the futon turned sideways a little as he did so. When he saw that he tried rolling it all the way over to fit it lengthwise through but that didn’t work either.
“You don’t have the time,” he said.
He pulled on the handcuff then looked around for something, a tool. “I’ll find a way to break the frame. Meanwhile, you’ll be dead. Do you know how much I gave you? You should be dead now.”
Nicola knew she couldn’t waste energy talking to him anymore. Her mind was fighting to fade, she could feel herself going. The adrenaline was gone. Soon she’d have no more control. Was she dying or just passing out? It felt as though she was dying.
Strength of mind, she thought. She wanted to close her eyes just for a second but she was afraid she would never open them again. She was afraid even to blink too slowly. With an effort she pulled out the Narcon from her bra and uncapped it.
“What’s that?” Chorizo said.
Her mind let go for a moment. She struggled. She wasn’t thinking so much as groping around looking for a handhold. I am here. I am here. She opened her mouth to speak; she wanted to say it aloud, I am here; she wanted to tell herself this in a way she would really believe it.
“I am,” Nicola said. It was all she could manage.
Chorizo was watching her. It didn’t matter what she had. Timing was everything. He smiled.
“It’s too late, little one,” he said.
“No,” she said, and she turned and took Dave’s arm and plunged the needle into, she hoped, one of his veins.
Twenty-two
The kitchen featured
a Viking stove, there was a full Jacuzzi in the master bath, but the living room had nothing except stained wall-to-wall carpeting and a cassette player the size of a microwave oven.
Nicola had brought the cassette player herself. Grandmaster Flash was singing with a voice like asphalt pouring out through the speakers: “It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder how I keep from going under.”
Nicola knelt on the stained carpet to lower the volume.
“You have to picture it with furniture,” she told Audrey.
But Audrey wasn’t looking at the room; she was standing in front of the picture window next to Lou. “I can’t believe this view,” she said.
Lou said, “Isn’t it amazing?”
“Chairs, couches, lamps,” Nicola continued. She stepped up to the doorframe to examine a curl of peeling paint. “Maybe a couple of bookcases flanking the fireplace.”
“This view is better than mine,” Audrey complained. “That can’t be fair.”
“It’s not better, it’s just closer.”
“It’s not fair,” Audrey repeated. She was still wearing her coat, and she looked down at Lester, whom she held by a leash. “Your new home,” she told her.
“Well, not for a couple of weeks yet,” Nicola corrected.
“By the way, Carmen called this morning. She found another camera in the closet. She said it was never installed properly, though.”
For the past few months Nicola had been living with Audrey and Declan while she looked for a place of her own. Carmen was living in the house behind the Russians. Nicola couldn’t wait to start using dressers again instead of cardboard boxes and milk crates. I’ll need a dining room table, she suddenly realized.
“Oh and here, I have something for you, too,” Audrey said to Lou. She handed him a newspaper.
“What, my review?”
“Congratulations.”
“Your review made it in?” Nicola asked, coming over to look.
“I found it this morning,” Audrey said.
Lou looked at the cover. “They said next week.”
“Good thing I checked.”
He began turning the pages, dropping the sections he didn’t want on the floor. He was wearing his standard uniform, the white shirt and the clean blue jeans, and when he found the review he folded the paper carefully in half.
“Do you want to hear it?”
“Absolutely,” Nicola said.
“I’ll skip the boring intro.”
Audrey sat down on the carpet and threw the leash over to Nicola, who unclipped it from Lester’s collar then sat down, too. They were leaning against the wall, their backs to the view. The room was large and square and seemed even larger to Nicola without furniture. How will I fill this up, she wondered?
Lou cleared his throat then tilted his chin. “Blah blah blah, okay. ‘Nicosia is the first truly upscale Cypriot-inspired restaurant in San Francisco,’” he read, “‘And well worth the problems with parking. After you make your way through the strangely organized menu, you’ll find the food, especially the starters, lusty and bucolic.’”
“What does that mean, lusty and bucolic?” Audrey asked.
Lou was still standing. “I was thinking in terms of hearty and country,” he said. “I was trying to do some hearty and country combination.”
“I think it works,” Nicola told him.
“‘Their house salad,’” he continued, “‘has an interesting ingredient: pickled caper thorns, which are native to the island of Cyprus. The antipasto sampler ($6.95) is another tongue-pleaser, with its assortment of grilled and marinated vegetables—notably the kappari, which is somewhat like a turnip.’”
He described a few entrees—the slow-cooked lamb, a spicy smoked sausage called loukanika. Nicola listened to his slow, even voice—like the voice of a poet, she thought—while she looked around the room. She realized that her furniture would fill up exactly one-fourth of the space. When she had first seen the house, before she made her offer, this room was filled with low couches and faux jade statues and circular stone tables with little buddhas and framed pictures of students wearing tasseled caps. It was filled with someone else’s life.
But now that was over. Now every room was empty, waiting to start again.
Lou moved his fingers over the newspaper. “Okay, I’ll skip the dis on Cypriot wine, skip the lesser entrees, and get on to the desserts.”
“Those were good,” Nicola said.
“‘The desserts were good to fantastic,’” Lou read. “‘For my money, I’d go back to the fruit mousse with mango and lime, or the savory vanilla crème brûlée.’”
“That
was
good,” Nicola agreed.
“‘Not all the desserts seemed particularly Mediterranean, but they all come with nuts and a delicious hard cheese called Kefalotiri’—I’m not sure if I’m pronouncing that right—‘along with a pitcher of sweet Cyprus honey.’” Lou moved his thumb to the bottom of the column. “And then there’s just parking information, restaurant times, and prices.”
He looked up. “The end,” he said.
“Wow,” Audrey said.
“That was great!” Nicola told him.
“One hundred and fifty dollars,” Lou stated. He looked over the paper again, then folded it carefully and put it in his back pocket. “Plus two free meals.”
“They pay for your meals?” Audrey asked.
“Well, I can write them off.”
Nicola stood up and turned to look out the window. The previous owners had left the blinds, thank God, so she didn’t have to worry about
that.
The house was about ten blocks from the ocean, and from here the waves looked like a line of snow on the shore. Half a dozen sailboats stood huddled to the north, waiting for the start of a race.
“The fog is still holding back. There’s going to be a nice sunset tonight.”
Lou looked up. “It’s great to be able to see the weather.”
“This house is wonderful,” Nicola agreed. She watched the sailboats disperse like tiny flags on the water; the race had begun. “Who knew Chorizo would be wanted in New York
and
California?”
“Reward money. I love it. You could say your home was federally funded,” Audrey said.
“No more landlords.” Nicola smiled. “And I’ll have my Lester Pearl with me again.” Lester moved closer to Nicola, who began scratching her chin. After a moment Lester turned her head slightly to get just the right scratch angle.
“Will you miss the baby girl?” Nicola asked Audrey.
“I’m afraid to answer that,” Audrey said.
“Well, you have Declan. And of course Scooter now.”
“Always your cast-offs.”
The doorbell rang. When Nicola answered it she found Davette on the doorstep with the minitool in one hand and a mobile phone in the other. Her hair was dyed a very yellowy blonde.
“
Now
where am I?” Davette said into the phone. She listened for a second, then stepped into the house.
“What are you doing?” Nicola asked her.
Davette put the phone to her chest, covering the mouthpiece. “I’m messing with Dave,” she whispered. She asked about the bathroom.
Nicola showed her where it was, then went back into the living room saying, “A constant source of fun.”
“What’s that?” Audrey asked.
“The minitool companion.” She rolled her eyes.
“You know, you should be grateful for the minitool companion,” Lou reminded her. “Since it saved your life.”
“Oh, I am. I am. Believe me,” Nicola said. She sat down next to Audrey again and pulled Lester onto her lap. “I’m also still amazed that Davette actually had hers on that night.”
Lou was still standing by the window. “We were in the motel office with four police officers and a medic team,” he told Audrey, “and Davette kept going, What’s that beeping noise? Then she realized it was coming from her purse.”
“Yeah, I heard that part,” Audrey said.
Nicola began scratching Lester’s short puggy nose. Her memory of that night was like something underwater; everything was further away than it looked. “Apparently by the time they got to Robert’s house I was passed out in the garage,” she said, “and Chorizo was trying to unscrew the door hinges with a pen cap.”
“I heard that part, too.”
“Dave couldn’t work the garage door. He said the Narcon gave him a vicious headache.”
Audrey began doing stretching exercises on the floor. She said, “You know, you’ve pretty much told me the story every day since it happened.”
“It’s a cool device, that mapping system thing,” Lou said. “What do you call it again?”
“GPS.”
“Maybe even twice a day,” said Audrey.
“GPS,” Lou repeated. “Amazing. We knew right where to go.”
“Dave has certainly made some interesting purchases in his young life,” Audrey commented, bending over her leg. “My favorite so far is the camouflage pants with hidden food-storage units.”
Nicola stopped scratching Lester for a moment. “Yeah, but look where it got him! All that survival preparation made him overconfident. I mean, I can’t believe he actually
called
Chorizo. Called him. On the telephone. Then agreed to meet him. Jesus.”
“The good news is we never learn from our mistakes,” Lou told her. He knelt down and began stroking Lester’s back. “You know what the Buddhists say.”
“What do the Buddhists say?”
“The past is merely preparation.”
“The Buddhists don’t say that,” Nicola said.
“Really? Then maybe it’s the NBA.”
Nicola laughed.
“But you know, Dave is even more insane now,” she said, teasing Lester’s fur up a little with a hairdressing motion. “He’s making Davette wear a beeper around her wrist. He’s like some frantic mother.”
Audrey said, “Listen, you should be glad Dave is insane.”
“I am glad Dave is insane. It’s just, he gave me my own gas mask for saving his life. This is his idea of a present. It has a left side filter mount and adjustable cinch straps.”
“What’s a filter mount?” Audrey asked.
“A mount for a filter?” Nicola suggested.
“Ha ha.”
Davette came out of the bathroom and handed Nicola the phone.
“Dave wants to tell you something. Whoa, nice view,” she said.
“Hi, Dave,” Nicola said.
“The GPS so does work inside a building,” Dave told her.
“Really?”
“We’ve been testing it out,” he said.
“So where am I now?”
“Like I told Davette, you’re all at Audrey’s house. And I am inside my mom’s garage as we speak.”
Nicola shook her head at Davette. “Are you now.”
“Totally and completely inside a building.”
“Well, why don’t you come over to Audrey’s house and we’ll feed you some dinner?”
“What’re you having?”
“What are we having for dinner?” Nicola asked Lou.
“Fettuccine with pancetta.”
“Fettuccine with pancetta,” she told Dave.
“Cool,” said Dave.
Nicola gave Davette back the phone and began rolling down the window blinds. “We’ll meet you at your house,” she told Audrey.
“Okay. By the way: great house,” Audrey said. “Aside from the better view I completely approve.”
“Yeah, TFO,” Davette agreed.
Nicola looked at her. “TFO?”
“Totally far out.”
When the other two were gone, Lou helped Nicola lock up. “Well, you have your house now,” he said. “Bigger, better, and almost twenty percent your own.”
Nicola smiled.
“So what’s next? Retirement perhaps?”
“I didn’t get
that
much money,” Nicola said. “But I do see a future where I fire Guy and take over the company.”
“Or we could live on my reviews.”
“Those won’t keep me in lingerie, I’m afraid.”
“We’d have to eat out a lot,” Lou said. “We’d have to go to a new restaurant every night.”
“Can we make that sacrifice?”
“I think we can.”
They stood by the front door in the semidarkness. Lester was sniffing something on the floorboards. Again Nicola felt the emptiness of the house. In two weeks she would begin to fill it with her chairs, her stereo components, her choice of rugs and photos and kitchen equipment. A new life. Her new life. She needed more pictures for the walls; the toilet had a rusty flusher; some tile was cracked in the kitchen. There was so much to do. But she had begun to make lists, and that always made her happy.