He Started It(39)

That’s when I remember Eddie is supposed to be watching the car tonight. Can’t do that from jail.

I imagine Felix in the bathroom, wondering how his lighter ended up on the floor by the toilet.

Did it fall out of my pocket? Did I put it IN my pocket? I thought it was in my bag.

It is not in his bag. I have his lighter now, along with his cigarettes.

I do this sometimes—imagine what he’s thinking. Usually it happens after we have an argument, and I try to picture what goes on his head.

She’s wrong, she’s being stupid, she’s a bitch.

Should I apologize?

No, she should apologize. I’m not saying a word. Not this time.

It’s been a while, though. She must be really mad.

Okay, maybe I should apologize. Just this once, though. I’m not doing it again.

More often than not, Felix apologized first.

When he comes out of the motel bathroom, Felix gives me a half smile and walks over to his backpack. As he checks the front pocket, he says, “You’re not going to bed?”

I point to the parking lot. “Someone has to watch. It’s Eddie’s shift.”

“Oh. Right.” He doesn’t find what he’s looking for in that pocket. Glances around the room.

“Lose something?” I say.

“Phone charger.” No hesitation.

Liar.

He goes to his suitcase and rummages through it. “Who’s got the next shift?” he says.

“Krista.”

“You really think she’s going to watch?”

“No. You can use my charger.”

He stops looking. “Cool, thanks.”

“It’s right there on the dresser.”

Felix plugs in his phone and sits down on one of the beds. “I should take Krista’s shift,” he says.

Convenient. More time to look. More time to smoke. “If you want.”

“Yeah. We should keep watching, at least for another day or two. Until we’re sure they’re gone.”

“Okay.” I look out the window, and I wonder if Eddie is in the same cell as Clemson. I wonder if the police are keeping an eye on them. When I turn back to Felix, he is eyeing the nightstand with the broken, crooked drawer.

Good guess, but no.

He doesn’t look inside. Instead, he goes back to the bathroom. Those missing cigarettes will drive him crazy because he won’t find them. Not until tomorrow.





6 DAYS LEFT


We have to go through a series of legal this, that, and the other to get Eddie back. They can’t release him from the jail until he appears before a judge, so we’re sent to the courtroom two blocks down. It’s another tiny building, nothing much to it. Hard to believe this is where justice prevails.

Clemson’s friends also show up. They sit on the opposite side of the courtroom, which means they’re about five feet away.

It all happens very fast. In a small town like this, there aren’t many cases. The only other one is a guy who got so drunk he slept on the hood of his car. Public drunkenness for him, and a fine.

Clemson and Eddie aren’t so lucky. They get a lecture from the judge. A long-winded one, because it may be the only thing this judge has to do today. It all comes down to misdemeanors: criminal mischief, public drunkenness, disturbing the peace. The fine is $500 each.

The whole escapade has been expensive, annoying, and time-consuming. The definition of Eddie most of the time.

The only surprise comes after it’s all over.

Eddie walks outside with Clemson. Together. They are smiling and laughing, and at one point, Eddie smacks him on the arm like they’re teammates. Clemson’s friends look as surprised as we are.

“What the hell?” Krista says.

When they reach us, Eddie turns to Clemson and offers his hand. “It’s been an honor going into battle with you.”

“Wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Clemson says.

They shake hands, bump fists, then slap each other on the back and part ways. Eddie turns to us, arms out and smiling. “Hey, guys!”

Krista glares at him. Arms crossed, back arched. “Are you kidding?”

“Oh, don’t be mad. This will be a great story one day.”

“Asshole.” She turns around and walks back to the car.

Eddie follows, saying, “Come on . . . I mean, you have to admit it’s a great story.”

She admits nothing. Krista is starting to grow on me.

The money came from us—Felix and me. We paid Eddie’s $500 fine because we had room on our credit card. Krista did not.

Back into the car, Eddie is in the driver’s seat. “No car problems, I assume?”

“No,” I say. “No problems other than you.”

“And no truck sightings?” he asks.

“None,” Felix says.

“Didn’t think so.”

Krista’s head swivels around to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, Derrick and I got to talking—”

“Derrick?” she says.

“Derrick. From Clemson. Well, I mean that’s where all those guys graduated from. They aren’t as young as I thought.”

“Who cares about their age?” Krista says.