Blacktop Wasteland(71)

“He ain’t seen shit. We load up the truck and handcuff his ass to a tree branch. If he’s smart he’ll wait till we gone and use the cuffs as a rope saw to get loose,” Beauregard said.

“You think that’s a good idea? Leaving him like that?” Ronnie asked. Beauregard pulled his bandana down past his mouth.

“I said he ain’t seen shit. Besides, it ain’t like he gonna go to the cops.”

Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. “Just asking. Shade’s worse than the cops,” he said. He put his hands in his pocket. Beauregard noticed the outline of a small pistol in the right-hand pocket. It sat there like a sleeping scorpion. Deadly and inert all at the same time.

“Uh huh.”

A pair of headlights climbed up the overgrown driveway.

Kelvin pulled into the meadow, then turned the truck around so that the tailgate was facing the back of the van. He put the truck in park with a loud clang. He and Reggie climbed out and met Ronnie and Beauregard in the middle of the field.

“That transmission got about twenty more feet in it,” Kelvin said.

“It’ll be fine. Ronnie, get the flashlight out of the truck. Let’s get the old boy out of the van and find a tree to tie him to. Then we can load up the pickup truck. It’s eleven o’clock,” Beauregard said. “I want us on the road by midnight.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking. How would Lazy know if we kept a few spools for ourselves? I mean I know what you said but really, you think that motherfucker gonna miss two rolls? Shit, two rolls is enough for the four of us. I know a guy can get us a real good price,” Ronnie said. Beauregard put his hand on Ronnie’s shoulder. He let his thumb lie on Ronnie’s collarbone. Katydids began to call to each other from the undergrowth. Beauregard buried his thumb under Ronnie’s collarbone and pressed against the brachial plexus.

“OW! Damn, Bug!” Ronnie squealed. He leaned over and put one hand on his knee while trying to remove Bug’s hand from his shoulder with the other.

“You don’t get to talk about keeping anything. You don’t get to talk about what Lazy might know or not know. The only thing I want to hear you talking about is loading up this goddamn truck. Now get old boy out the van,” Beauregard said. He released Ronnie, who then stumbled backwards into his brother. Beauregard untied the bandana and held it out to Ronnie.

“Make him put this on.” Ronnie gave Beauregard a long hard look and for a second Beauregard thought he was going to make a move. Beauregard felt something akin to relief that they were finally going to get down to it, but then the fire faded out of Ronnie’s eyes.

“Fuck, Bug. It’s just a thought. Damn. You got the fucking key to the cuffs?” Ronnie said. Beauregard took the keys from his pocket. He placed the bandana in Ronnie’s left hand and the keys in his right. Ronnie closed his hands tight and stalked over to the van. He opened the rear door and climbed inside.

“Listen up. I’m gonna put a blindfold on you. Then I’m gonna unlock the cuff from the strap. You ever want to see big titties and fat asses again you do exactly what we tell you. Cool?” Ronnie said.

“C-cool,” the driver said. Ronnie straddled the man as he lay on his stomach and tried to tie the bandana around the driver’s head. The two ends of the scarf barely met as Ronnie tried to tie a simple knot.

“Goddamn you got a big head. Like a damn pumpkin,” Ronnie said under his breath. Groaning, he pulled hard on the fabric around the man’s eyes and looped it into a harsh, tiny knot.

He unlocked the cuff from the metal banding strap that held the rolls of platinum in place on the pallet. He stood and grabbed Ross by the collar of his denim button-down shirt and helped him to his feet. They executed a slow backwards shuffle until they hit the bumper.

“Alright, step down. Easy. I ain’t trying to pick your big ass up,” Ronnie said. The driver’s foot hovered in space as he tried to find the ground. Ronnie let go of his collar and grabbed him by the arm.

“Step down. Now your other foot.”

The driver placed both feet on the ground. Ronnie held him at a somewhat perpendicular angle. He turned his head toward Beauregard.

“Where you wanna do this?” he asked.

“Poor choice of words,” Kelvin said.

Before Ronnie could respond the tiny knot he had tied unraveled unceremoniously. The bandana fell from the driver’s face and floated lazily to the ground. The driver looked over his right shoulder directly into Ronnie’s face. They locked eyes for about half a second before he twisted from Ronnie’s grasp and took off across the meadow.

“Fuck me!” Ronnie yelled. He pulled a .32 from his pocket and starting firing at the driver. The man began to run in a zigzagging pattern. He reached the tree line and began crashing through the woods.

“Get the flashlights!” Beauregard yelled. Kelvin ran to the truck and retrieved two heavy-duty Maglites. He tossed one to Beauregard.

“Come on. Reggie, you with me!” Beauregard said. He took off for the woods.

“You heard him, dipshit!” Ronnie yelled. Ronnie lit out for the woods. Kelvin passed him like he was standing still as they headed for the pines. Reggie limped after them but his loping gait didn’t have much urgency.

Beauregard clicked on the flashlight. The pine trees and wild azaleas appeared ghastly in the harsh yellow light. He threaded through the woods, ducking under low-hanging branches and jumping over the rotted trunks of trees that were dead when he was still in juvie. He stopped for a second and listened. He tried to ignore the insects and the animals and just listened for the sounds a fat frightened man running for his life would make. A part of him wondered if Ronnie had intentionally tied the bandana with a slipknot or something. He’d been so intent on killing the driver, maybe he’d done it to force Beauregard’s hand? Beauregard shook off that thought. That was a chess move. Ronnie was strictly a checkers kind of guy. Ronnie Fucking Sessions. That should be his nickname instead of Rock and Roll. The man was a congenital fuckup. Couldn’t even tie a goddamn blindfold right.