Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Background
Zee takes in the troubled son of a friend. No good deed goes unpunished. The druggy guy seduces Biggie, Zees young ward. After ditching movie night to go clubbing, Biggie disappears.
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A no-name/no-neck guy, driving an old Coupe De Ville, pulled up at Clark and Diversey.
He rolled down his window. "Manning?"
I nodded in the affirmative.
He angled his paw-like hand with a half-stump thumb toward the backseat. I got in. I wondered what happened to the other half of his thumb, but it seemed impolite to ask since we'd just met.
"Circle the block," I said. "The package will be here soon." I handed him a scrap of paper. "Here's the address."
We made one trip around, and Nick showed up. So far, so good. I waved. He rushed over and took hold of the backseat door handle.
"Front," Mr. No-name said.
Nick hopped in the front seat. He bounced up and down, slapping his hands together as if he'd just hit the lottery. At least he looked and smelled better in his black Levis and a Blackhawks hoodie. His monogrammed leather kit hung on his belt.
Mr. No-name headed west on Diversey toward the Kennedy.
"Cool wheels, man! This fucker rolls like a boat." Nick said, turning the dial on the radio. "This thing work?"
Mr. No-name cracked his no-neck side to side and turned the radio back to "off".
I checked my phone, now on silent, five more missed calls from Q. I turned it off. There would be hell to pay for keeping him in the dark, but I'd call it rent and declare it on my taxes. Problem solved.
We cruised along 1-90 at 57 miles an hour. Traffic backed up at the toll road, but other than that, it was smooth sailing. Nick curled into a ball and nodded off.
"You ever talk?" I asked No-name.
He did not answer. Thus, answering the question. He did glance at me in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, I thought he might smile. He did not. I spent the rest of the trip staring out the window.
The cabin on Rock River started as a love nest/fishing shack. Love nest for me and fishing shack for Conner. I lost Conner to Jack__Daniels, that is. Now it's a place to stay when we visit Biggie and an opportunity to contract West Nile Virus.
We got off at Newville, Wisconsin, and drove west on Elendale Road. The road snaked along the Rock River. Small cottages dotted the colorful landscape. The trees were already preparing themselves for fall, doing their part to signal the passage of time. I didn't need much of a signal. I had a mirror.
We wound around on the narrow road passing few vehicles. No-name broke his silence. "Not a lot of traffic."
"The FIB's have all hauled ass for the season," I said.
"FIB'S?"
"Fuckin' Illinois Bastards," I said.
He laughed a girly laugh. I took it as a sign we were becoming friends.
Author Notes
Zee: Author of cheap paperback novels. Rich, eccentric old cougar living in a condo in downtown Chicago.
Biggie: Filipino. Zees unofficially adopted daughter. Computer guru. Eighteen but diagnosed with arrested emotional development and speech dysphasia after suffering a brutal beating as a child.
Stella: Thirty-something housekeeper. She lives with Zee. She Drives a motorcycle. She moved from her grandparent's farm in Oklahoma to Chicago in search of her birth mother.
Q: Big, mean, and beautiful. He lives in a condo next to Zee. Occupation, bodyguard, chauffeur, cook, and anything else zee needs. Upper crust educated. African American.
Ike-The-Spike: Heroin Addict. Son of famous restaurant owner in Chicago. Real name is Nick.
Sid Rosenthal: Zees ex-Psychiatrist, friend, and lover.
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