We ignored him and went to the chest freezer where he kept the ice cream and then over to the isle where he kept the jars of marshmallow and chocolate syrup. Mr. Cho followed along yelling. Tommy didn’t seem to mind. He must’ve grown accustomed to a similar environment.
“All they got is chocolate syrup and no hot fudge. Is chocolate syrup going to be good enough?” Tommy put his hand to his mouth and burped. The thought of more food took him to the edge. He nodded and skated away down the aisle.
“Where’s my last paycheck? You owe me for two weeks.”
“They say, you come back I call. Get out. Get out. I call right now.” He went to the phone on the counter and dialed.
“Okay, forget the check. I’m taking the ice cream instead.”
“Hello, poleese.” I snatched the phone from his hand and listened, heard the dial tone. He didn’t want any more trouble and tried to bluff. I yanked the phone from the wall. “Have a good life, Mr. Cho.”
Outside, I again averted my eyes from the spot where the kid had fallen, not wanting to see the dried blood if it was still there. I ran to catch up to Tommy who rolled off down the street riding on the heel skates.
I’d been wrong or right, really, the first time I assessed the situation. The surveillance had been for me, and the robbery was collateral damage. Robby had not been there by coincidence, his team was watching me. But then what about the murders with the gasoline? Was it just a cover? He hadn’t made it up. The murders were really happening. The story was all over the papers and TV news.
I caught up to Tommy and guided him around the corner. I’d been right about that night. My internal radar had been right-on after all. I didn’t feel any eyes on us now, but wasn’t going to take the chance. I used a preplanned escape route I’d set up far in advance. If they were watching, the plan would only work once. We went on down to Washington Avenue and turned west. Tommy’s stomach was full. He’d had a little nap and now he had some shoe skates. The ice cream made my hands ache from the cold and acted as a good prop. The bag of cash hung off my shoulder. I took Tommy by the shoulder and guided him down a long path to an old, tired manse. In its day, Lynwood was an upper-middle-class neighborhood, labeled The All American City. The south side had huge houses on big lots. Los Angeles, the city on the west border, put in vast blocks of public housing—Imperial Courts, Nickerson Gardens, and Jordan Downs. Crime raged in all the nearby cities: Compton, the gateway to Los Angeles, and Bell Gardens, and South Gate. Eventually, the good folks moved out and left the zoo to the animals. Some stayed and fought the good fight. This house was one of them.
I knocked on the solid oak door. Mr. Howard Marks, a wrinkled, white-haired old gentleman, who should’ve been long dead from old age, opened the door. The skin under his watery blue eyes sagged, displaying little pink half moons. His entire body shook from the effort to stay on his feet. He smiled, knew the reason for the preplanned visit, put a hand on my arm, and ushered us in. He closed the door. I took Tommy right through the house and out the back door into a huge one-acre lot overgrown with what had once been a world-class garden. I picked up Tommy because his skates wouldn’t roll on the dirt path with all the vines and overgrowth. We went right out into an alley where a car was parked. We got in and started up. Mr. Howard Marks was a friend of Marie’s. He agreed a long time ago to help out.
I drove down the alley, made a right, did a couple more counter moves, checked the mirrors for a tail. We were in the clear. I headed for Dad’s. I was late for the meeting with Robby. No way was I going to see him now. Fate had interceded and saved my ass.
Chapter Twenty-Three
This time Junior caught our scent and came up, his hind end waggled with his tail. Tommy clung to me tighter when he saw the dog and buried his head in my chest. “It’s okay, little guy, this is a nice dog. Here, look.”
Tommy would have none of it. He started to whimper.
It was still early. The interior lights lit up the house. The door was locked this time, like it was supposed to be. I knocked quietly. Nothing. On the other side came the noise from the Game Boy, a trade-off to keep the kids quiet inside the house where no one could see them. I knocked again, a little louder, and looked back over my shoulder. The backyard was long and deep with overgrown shrubs. No one could see. Dad opened the door with a big smile. I handed him the ice cream and chocolate syrup. I left the black gym bag with the money on the porch. The bag represented something corrupt and filthy, the idea of bringing it inside where the kids played would pollute their innocence.
Dad didn’t falter at the sight of another child, this one not in the plan. He smiled and rubbed Tommy’s head, didn’t ask any questions. His eyes smiled at me.
“I couldn’t walk away and leave him, not—”
“I didn’t say a word. Come on, let’s get some of this ice cream dished up, whatta ya say? “ With his free hand, he pried Tommy off my chest and took him over to the kitchen table and sat down. He was going to talk to Tommy a good long time, like he did with the others. When he finished talking, Tommy would call him Grandpa and feel like he’d known Dad all his life.
The house was too hot. I took off the army coat and put the ice cream in the freezer. Then I peeked around the corner into the living room where the make-believe battle raged on the television screen. Four boys, Ricky, Toby, Randy, and Wally with controllers in hand juked and ducked, playing the game. Alonzo was too young. He marveled at the action. Two others, Sonny and Marvin, lay on the floor playing the board game Chutes and Ladders.
Alonzo’s eyes were bright, his smile heartwarming. He reminded me of my daughter who reminded me of my dear wife, God rest their souls. Alonzo sensed a change in the environment and looked up. When he saw me, he leapt up, came right off the floor as if propelled out of a cannon. “Daddy.”
I wasn’t his daddy. He’d taken to calling me that. And who was I to correct him? The other boys hesitated, looked up, only the game was too enticing, and they went back to their controllers.
Alonzo all but bowled me over. I backed up several steps, regained my balance, scooped him up, and swung him in the air, hugging him so hard I caught myself, the little voice inside my head reminding me he was only three and terribly fragile. He’d put on even more weight. He’d been skin and bone two years ago, now Dad had gone the other way feeding him. I’d have to have a talk with him about feeding the kids too much. What was I thinking? We were done, officially on the lam. Tomorrow we’d all be in Costa Rica, or at least too far into the journey for anyone to pull us back.
Costa Rica.
Alonzo giggled and hugged my neck with his little pudgy arms. The thought of leaving elated me and at the same time scared the hell out of me. I looked over at Dad who sat at the table talking quietly to Tommy, the new family addition. Dad looked up, our eyes met. He read me like a book, saw it was all over for him. He was going to have to give up his kids and never see them again. I felt as if someone had socked me in the stomach. I closed my eyes and hugged Alonzo, kissed the top of his head. Dad continued on in a low murmur to Tommy, the kids always came first.
I took out eight bowls, used up the whole half gallon of chocolate ice cream and most of the bottle of syrup. I knew it probably wasn’t the healthiest diet and recognized that it was the guilt making me do it. I set Alonzo down and carried three bowls into the living room, then another three. The dessert was enough motivation. They put the games on hold and dug in. Spoons clanged on glass bowls. I went back in the kitchen, gave Tommy his bowl while Dad continued to talk to him. He spooned chocolate ice cream into the boy’s mouth as the child nodded. I took the last bowl into the living room with Alonzo, sat in Dad’s chair and watched my grandson eat. A great weight lifted off me. Even though it was earlier than we planned, the idea of leaving, escaping before getting caught let me breathe in a full lung of air for the first time in months. I sat with Alonzo a long time, rocking, and stroking his hair. Dad came in with Tommy asleep in his arms and carried him down the hall to a bedroom. When he returned empty handed, he said to the boys in a quiet voice, “Time for bed.”