Coyote Blue Chapter 20~21

CHAPTER 20N perpetuallymoreSanta BarbaraWhen surface-to-air missile walked into his fleck Gabriella met him with a cup of deep brown. Mr. Hunter, Id analogous to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I dont roll in the hay what came oer me.Thats okay. I do.I hope you were able to resolve the difficulties at the Cliffs.surface-to-air missile wasnt prep ard for civility from Gabriella it was comparable en forestalling a polite scorpion. Life was changing before his eyes. Everythings fine. Any gossips? expert Mr. Aaron. She checked her message pad. He would like you to stop into his occasion if it wouldnt be alike much trouble.Exact row?Yes, sir.My my, has the Sugarplum Fairy been through here(p bolshieicate) today?Gabriella checked the pad. No message, sir.surface-to-air missile smiled and walked away. Down the hall Julia told surface-to-air missile to go right in.Aaron stood and smiled when surface-to-air missile entered the power. Sammy boy, confuse a seat. We need to talk .Sam said, forty cents on the dollar sign, plus interest. You trammel the office. I want out(a). Thats it. You talk.Aaron dismissed Sams comment with a wave. Thats all screwing us, buddy. Cochrans lawyer called. There isnt sack to be any effort. You and I are square.What happened? Sam knew he should be elated at the news, simply kinda he tangle dread. For a moment he had relished the idea of big(a) up all the pretending. Now what?No explanation. They completely posted off. They apologized for the mistake. Youll suck a formal apology in the mail tomorrow. I neer doubted you, kid. Not for a minute.Aaron, did you talk to Spagnola today?Just briefly. Just a social call. He was pretty heavily medicated. Im not sure I trust him, Sam. You want to watch your back around that guy. Hes unstable.Sam matte up his ears heat up with anger. Aaron expected him to act like the betrayal had never happened. There was a time when he would allow, nevertheless not now. Forty cents on th e dollar, plus interest.Aaron lost his friendly-guy salesmans smile. But thats behind us.I dont regard so. Youre a s pee-pee, Aaron. That doesnt surp trick out me. But it does surprise me that you went after me when I was depressed. I thought we were friends.We are, Sammy.Good. Then you wont mind having the papers on my desk by midweek. And you puddle the axe pay the attorney fees. Theyre tax deductible, you know. And if youre late, you will need the write-off. Sam got up and started out of the office.Aaron called after him. We dont have to do this now.Without turning Sam said, Yes we do. I do.Sam nodded to Julia as he passed but he couldnt muster a smile. What have I done? he thought.In his outer office Gabriella was kicked back in her chair with her skirt up around her armpits. She captivatemed to be hyperventilating and her eyes were rolled back in her head.Gabriella Again?She pointed to his office door. Sam threw the door open, banging it all over against the wall and dis turbing a consume that was perched in the brass hat rack just inside. Sam stormed over to the bird, further resisting the urge to grab it and rip its feathers out.Goddammit, I told you to stay off my secretarial assistant Sam shook his fist at the bird. And what kind of bullshit did you reap by over at work Marine to become them to drop the lawsuit? Cant you just leave me alone?Why are you yelling at the bird? The voice came from behind him. Sam anticipateed around, his fist still large(p) the raven. brush wolf was standing in the opposite corner of the office by the autotype shape. Sams anger sullen to confusion. He looked at the bird, and so prairie wolf, then the bird. Whos this?A raven? Coyote speculated. He turned back to the fax machine. Hey, what is this button that says network?Sam was still looking at the bird. It sends simultaneously to the collection plate offices of all the companies we represent.Coyote repeled the button. Like smoke signals.What? Sam dr opped his fist, ran to the fax machine, and hit the cancel button a second too late. The display showed the transmission had departed out. Sam exited the paper from the machine and stared at it in disbelief. Coyote had obviously lain on the holdy machine to repulse the image.You faxed your penis? That machine prints my name at the top of each transmission.The female childs in the home office will think highly of you, then. Of course, they will be disappointed if they ever see you naked.The raven squawked and Gabriella appeared at the open door. Mr. Hunter, a gentleman is here to see you from the police department.Coyote held the Xerox up to Gabriella. A opinion of your friend, he offered.A sharp-featured Hispanic man in a duster sport jacket pushed his way past Gabriella into the office. Mr. Hunter, Im Detective Alphonse Rivera, Santa Barbara PD, narcotics division. Id like to have a bun in the oven you a few questions. He held out a avocation circuit card embossed with a gold shield, but did not offer to wag hands. narcotics agentotics? Sam looked to Coyote, thinking he would have disappeared, but the trickster had stood his prepare by the fax machine. On the hat rack, the raven cawed.Nice bird, Rivera said. I understand they can be trained to talk. Rivera walked to the bird and studied it.Pig, the raven said.Hes not mine, Sam said quickly. He belongs to- Sam looked around and Gabriella was gone from the doorway. He belongs to this gentleman. Sam pointed to Coyote.And you are? Rivera eyed Coyote suspiciously.Coyote.Rivera raised an forehead and took a notebook from his inside jacket pocket. Mr. Hunter, I have a few questions about what went on at Motion Marine a couple of geezerhood ago. Would you prefer to talk in private?Yes. Sam looked at Coyote. Go away. Take the bird with you.Nazi scum, the raven cawed.Ill stay, Coyote said.Sam was on the verge of screaming. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He composed himself and turned to Rivera. We can talk in front of Mr. Coyote.Just a few questions, Rivera said. You had an appointment with James Cable at ten. Is that make?I was there for about an hour.I was there too, Coyote said.Rivera turned his attention to the trickster. Why were you there, Mr. Coyote?I was raising funds for NARC.Narc the raven said.Narc?Native American Reform Coalition.Rivera scribbled on a pad.Sam said, I dont understand. What does this have to do with narcotics?We think soul throw up hallucinogens in the coffee over at Motion Marine. Two years ago James Cable claims he was attacked by someone adaptation Mr. Coyotes description. He had a heart attack.I just asked him if his company would make a donation, Coyote said. He said no and I went away. He had taken the Xerox of his penis from the desk and fitted it back into the fax machine. He searched the buttons. insurance commissioner, he read as he pushed the button.No Sam dive over the desk for the cancel button. Too late. He turned to Rivera. T hat document wasnt signed. He grinned and tried to move the conversation away from his panic. You know, I was thinking weve got an Indian, a policeman, and an insurance broker. Were only a construction worker away from the colonization People.Rivera ignored the comment. Did you have any coffee while you were at Motion Marine, Mr. Hunter?Coffee? No.And you didnt drink from the watercooler?No. I dont understand.Today, trio people at Motion Marine, including Frank Cochran, claim that they saw a icy render in the offices. Sam looked at Coyote. A polar bear?We think that someone slipped them some LSD. Were testing the water and the coffee now. We just cute to talk to anyone who has been in the building in the inhabit two days. You didnt see anyone strange hanging around while you were in the building?I only saw Cables secretary and Cable, Sam said.Rivera flipped the notebook shut. Well, thanks for your time. If you have any strange reactions or see anything strange, could you give me a call? Rivera handed a card to Coyote. And you too, if you would.Cabron, the raven said.He speaks Spanish, too, Rivera said. Amazing. The detective left the office.Santa Barbara News-Press advertising, Coyote read as he pushed the button. The fax machine whirred.Sam started to go for the machine, then stopped and sat down in his chair. He sat for a minute rubbing his temples. If that cop runs a background check on me, Im going to jail. You know that, dont you?You wanted your old life back.But a get laiding polar bear?Well, you have your old life back, whether you want it or not.I was wrong. It felt undecomposed saying it, the honesty in it. He wanted a new life. I just want you to go away.Im gone, Coyote said. The girl is gone too.What does that mean?The feathers on Coyotes shirt turned black and his fingers changed to outflow feathers. In an instant Coyote was a raven. He flew out the office door followed by the raven from the hat rack.CHAPTER 21All blessed FamiliesSa nta Barbara calliope stood in the generateway, holding Grubb, waiting for Lonnie to return. Nina had been right she wasnt very good at worrying, but she was giving it a good effort. She was sure that Lonnie wouldnt lose her or Grubb, but then again, Lonnie had never acted the way he had the nighttime before. She wished that she could have asked Sam to stay with her and help her with a decision, but it would have been too much to ask so soon. She wished, too, that there were earpieces at the ashram and that she could call her mother for advice. And she couldnt just jump in the car and drive to see her mother as she always had before. She had her job, her hearthstone, and there was Sam now.She was trying to push the dark specter of the unknown to the back of her mind when she heard the Harley approaching. She looked up to see Lonnie rounding the corner a block away, his new young muliebrity clinging to him like a leech. Lonnie pulled into the driveway next to her and killed the engine.Im late for work, Calliope said, wiping a trail of drool from Grubbs face with her finger.The woman behind Lonnie glared at her and Calliope nodded to her and said, Hi.Lonnie reached for Grubb without getting off the bike. Calliope hugged Grubb close. She said, I dont want him riding on the bike with you.Lonnie laughed. The way you drive? Hes a hell of a clutch safer on the bike.Please, Lonnie.The woman reached out and took Grubb from Calliope. The baby began to cry. Hell be fine, Cheryl hissed.Why cant you just stay at home with him? Calliope asked.Places to go, people to meet, Lonnie said.I could get Yiffer to watch him. Calliope felt her breath coming hard. She didnt like the look of this hard woman holding her Grubb.Lonnie said, You identify Yiffer to watch his ass or Ill shoot it off.Lonnie, I have to go. Cant you just stay here? Im only working the lunch shift today.Lonnie grinned. Arent you going to stop by the hospital on your way home?Hospital? No. Why?Lonnie fi red up the Harley. No reason. He laughed and coaxed the big bike around in the driveway.As he gunned the engine and pulled into the street Cheryl shouted, Dont worry, bitch, well put a dollar on black for you.Over the roar of the Harley, Calliope could hear the woman grunt as Lonnie elbowed her in the ribs.Calliope saw Grubb looking at her as they rounded the corner. Panic tore at her chest as what the woman had said sunk in. She turned and ran back up the steps.-=*=- By late afternoon the contractors had replaced Sams sliding glass door and patched the sluggard holes in the walls. Sam canceled the weeks appointments, which gave him time alone with his thoughts. He soon found, however, that his thoughts, like monkeys in church, were bad company.He tried reading to distract himself, but he found that he was simply looking at the pages. He tried napping, but as soon as he closed his eyes, images of Coyote and the police filled his head. When the worry became too much for him he thoug ht of Calliope, which doctor off a whole new set of worries. What had Coyote meant, The girl is gone? Did it matter?She was trouble. Too young, too goofy, believably too attractive. And the kid he didnt need a kid in his life either. Trouble. If she had gone somewhere he probably was better off. He didnt need the hassles. That thought still bouncing through his mind, he grabbed the phone and dialed her number. No answer. He called information and got the number for the Tangerine Tree Cafe. She hadnt shown up for work today.Where in the hell is she? Where in the hell is Coyote? The fucker knew where she went and he wouldnt enounce. What had started as a niggling irritation turned to dread. Why in the hell does it matter? he thought.Terrifying and black, a word ruddiness in his mind that matched his feeling. He recoiled from it, but it struck him again and again like an angry viper. Love the sickest of Ironys sick jokes. The place where logic and assure go to die. Then again, maybe not. It was only bad if you were hiding, pretending to be something that you were not. Maybe the hiding could end.Sam got up and headed out the door in what he knew was a ridiculous effort to find Calliope. He flock to the cafe and confirmed what they had told him on the phone. Then he drove to Calliopes house and found Yiffer and Nina getting out of the van as he pulled up.Nina said, I dont know where she is, Sam. She left a note saying that Lonnie had taken Grubb and she was going after him.Nothing about where she was going?Any note at all is a big step for her. She used to disappear for days at a time with no note at all.Fuck. Sam started to get back in the car.Sam, Nina called. He paused. The note said to tell you she was sorry.For what?Thats all it said.Thanks, Nina. Call me if she shows up. Sam gunned the Mercedes out of the driveway, having no idea where he was going.He unavoidable help. All his machines and access to information wouldnt help. He needed a place to sta rt. Twenty-four hours ago he would have disposed(p) anything to get rid of Coyote. Now he would welcome the tricksters cryptic, smart-assed answers at to the lowest degree they were answers.He drove around town, looking for Calliopes Z, feeling hope rise each time he spotted an orange car, and feeling it bring back when it turned out not to be Calliopes. After an hour he returned home, where he sat on his sofa, smoking and thinking. Everything had changed and postal code had changed. His life was back to normal, and normal wasnt enough anymore. He wanted real.-=*=- At the baseball clubs clubhouse tamper was digging at a flea bite on his leg, trying to pull his grimy jeans up over heavy boots to get at the exact invader. Fucking fleas, he said.The Guilds president, Bonner northward, let out a raucous snort. You know what they say, bro, nitrogen said. Lie down with dogs A din of harsh laugh rose in the room from the other Guild members.Fuck you guys, monkey around said, fe igning anger while enjoying the attention. It wasnt that he liked ugly chicks, but who else would have him?Nineteen of the twenty full members of the Guild were draped over furniture and sprawled on the floor, smoking joints and tails, drinking beers and feeling at the few old ladies present. Outside, two strikers, members who had not earned their full colors, sat on the front porch watching for the law.The house was a ramshackle stucco cottage that had been built in the 1930s as part of a admit tract, before the term housing tract was part of the language. The walls were stained with blood, beer, and vomit. The rug was matted with motor oil the furniture was minimal and distressed. Only potter actually lived at the clubhouse. The rest of the club used it for meeting and partying.The Guild had paid a hundred thousand dollars in cash for the house. The form of address was registered under due norths married sisters name, as was the ranch house the Guild possess in the Santa Lu cia Mountains above Santa Barbara, which housed the lab that provided their income. Ironically, the ranchs nearest neighbor was a wobbly-headed ex-president who had declared a war on drugs, and who, from time to time, would stand on the veranda of his palatial ranch house sniffing the odor of cooking crank and calling, Mommy, theres a funny smell trickling down out here.The lab produced enough income to affirm all of the Guilds members and ensure that none of them had to work except to man the counter of the Harley-Davidson shop that Bonner Newton used to launder drug money.Newton held an M.B.A. from Stanford. In an earlier time, before he fell from grace for smuggling cocaine, he had stalked the glass-cube buildings of Silicon Valley, wearing Italian suits and commanding crews of brilliant figurer designers who could define the universe in terms of two digits, explain the sanatorium theory in twenty-five words or less, and build machines that emulated serviceman intelligence but who thought a vulva was a Swedish automobile. Newtons experience in coddling these genius misfits served him well as president of the Guild, for the members of the Guild were nothing more than nerds without brains fat, ugly, or awkward men who found no credenza in the outside world and so escaped into the security and be of an outlaw biker club. A Harley-Davidson and blind loyalty were the only requirements for membership.Listen up, you fucks, Newton said, calling the meeting to order. Bitches outside. He paused and lit a cigarette while the women filed out the door, glaring at him over their shoulders. He was not a large or imposing man compared to the other members, but his agency was not to be questioned.Lonnies not here yet, Tinker said.Lonnies running an errand for us, Newton said. Were going to take an impromptu road trip. A little business and a little pleasure.Fuckin A, someone yelled. Newton gestured for quiet.Seems like someone forgot to tell me that we were runni ng low on ether up at the facility. Newton always referred to the crank lab as the facility. Tinker stopped cabbage his leg and hung his head.Tink, you fucking idiot, someone said.Anyway, Newton continued, I wasnt able to go under a delivery, so we have to go get it. Theres a chafe in South Dakota in a couple of days. At Sturgis. The kale chapter is going to meet us there with a couple of barrels. I want three fifty-five-gallon drums rigged with false tops so if we get stopped by the law it looks like were hauling motor oil. Tinker, youll drive the pickup.Aw, come on, Newt, Tinker whined.Warren, Newton said. A thin biker with curly red hair looked up. You fix one of the barrels for weapons, and make sure no one is packing. I dont want any weapons on anyone while were riding.A series of snorts, moans, and Oh, fucks passed around the room. Newton dismissed them with a wave. Advice from the gator, he said. Gator was short for the litigator, the Guilds attorney, Melvin Gold, who han dled all their criminal cases free of charge in sub for the assurance that he could also handle their personal injury suits. bikers got run over a lot.Look, Newton insisted, half of you are on probation. We dont need some rookie pig looking for glory to fuck us on a concealed-weapons charge. Are we clear? Newton paused until someone answered, Were clear.All right, then. Lonnies making a run to Vegas with his old lady to get the money to pay for the ether. Hell meet us in South D. Were out of here at nine tomorrow morning, so dont get too fucked up tonight. Bring your camping shit. Let your bitches carry your stash. Newton dropped his cigarette and ground it out on the carpet. Thats all, he said.The room filled with conversations about the trip. A few of the members got up to leave. When they opened the door a individual(a) flea hopped out with them. Once past the steps the flea changed into a horsefly and took flight. A block away the horsefly changed into a raven and headed towar d the mesa and the Cliffs condominium complex.