The Mystic Arts Of Erasing All Signs Of Death Part 26

He made the fist again.

-Web!

-Right. My bad.

He relaxed the fist. Sort of.

-Now I'm not saying you're off the hook. But, you know, I get it.

He brought up both hands, cupped my face in them, from crown to chin.

-As long as you were here, Web. As long as you were here when the van was stolen, I can understand. But if you guys were down the street messing around at the Stardust Lounge, or making a run for condoms or something, if you were not here as you were supposed to be, that is a very different matter. Yes? You do understand? You were here?

OK, this part here, I won't lie, this is bad. You might want to look away and not acknowledge the fact that I did what I did.

G.o.d knows I don't.

I brought up my hands and covered his.

-Po Sin, Yes. I understand. And I was here when the van was stolen.

True, every word. And, in an odd case of trans.m.u.tation, also one of the worst lies of my life.

He took his hands from my face.

-OK. OK. Now. I need to, I need to start formulating a response to this act of aggression from Aftershock. You. You need to make yourself very f.u.c.king useful right now.

I looked around, saw a broom, grabbed it, looked at him.

He nodded.

-Yes. Start with that.

I started sweeping.

Gabe came to the open office door.

-Where's the van?

Po Sin brought his leg back and lashed it at the wastebasket and garbage exploded over the office and the tin basket hit the cinder-block wall and folded in half.

-Motherf.u.c.ker! Motherf.u.c.king Morton looked us in the eyes and told us he'd agree to a cease-fire and then had one of his f.u.c.king peons come over here and rip us off! You were right! You were right on the f.u.c.king money, Gabe. That motherf.u.c.ker cannot be trusted.

The garbage floated down to the floor.

Gabe watched it.

-Not like I'm happy about being right.

Po Sin stood in the middle of the trash.

-We'll have to do something about it.

-OK. Tonight?

Po Sin took off his gla.s.ses and rubbed his eyes.

-Lei has her yoga cla.s.s tonight. I need to watch the kids.

Gabe nodded.

-OK, but better if we take care of it right away.

And he looked at me.

And Po Sin looked at me.

And I stopped sweeping trash.

-What?

Po Sin slipped his gla.s.ses back on.

-Got any plans? A pressing date with your new girl, maybe?

I bent and picked up the wastebasket and looked at the shape it had been twisted into when Po Sin booted it. It occurred to me that it was probably in better shape than my prospects of ever seeing Soledad again after my epic spazmatic display.

-No, I don't think that's gonna be a regular thing.

-All free, then? Not intending on another sleep marathon?

-No. I guess not.

He spread his arms.

-Then it's no problem?

-Um, no? I mean, what?

-You can help Gabe out tonight.

-I can? Sure. I. To do?

Gabe tugged an earlobe.

-Nothing big. Just business communications.

I shook my head.

-I don't know, man. That sounds. I don't know.

Po Sin turned and looked out the open door and turned back and looked at me.

-Ahem.

I looked at the empty parking spot out there where his van wasn't parked and decided I should shut up and do as I was asked to do.

Gabe observed the silence for a moment, nodded his head.

-OK. So I'll pick you up tonight.

He turned to leave, turned back.

-Wear gloves.

And leave he did.

Po Sin walked through the door into the shop.

-Time to get your hands dirty, Web.

-Got a hug for Daddy?

Po Sin stuck out his index finger.

-Just a little one?

The twelve-year-old boy looked out from under his long bangs, raised a hand, extended his pinkie, and touched it to the tip of his father's finger.

Po Sin smiled.

-I love you.

The boy withdrew his finger and walked to a corner of the room and sat on the floor and wedged himself tight into the angle of the walls and put his backpack in his lap and squeezed it to his chest.

Po Sin pushed himself from his squat and looked at his wife in the doorway.

-What's the matter?

Lei came into the office, ruffling her spiky black hair.

-He lost a piece from his Bat Cave.

-Oh, Christ. At school? Please tell me it was at school.

She shook her head.

-Nope.

-Aw, s.h.i.t.

She raised her hands.

-And I've already done what I can do about it.

-OK.

-You can take your best shot.

-OK.

-I'm just praying I can find some kind of mellow in yoga cla.s.s and not fall asleep on my mat as soon as I get there.

-OK. OK.

She took a deep breath, exhaled.

-Sorry. Long one.

She looked at him and smiled.

-How about you, everything OK?

Po Sin scratched his moustache, waved a hand in the air over his head.

-Nothing's blowing up.

She pointed out the open door.

-Where's the van?

He glanced through the shop door at me where I was bleaching the slop sink, looked back at his wife.

-Gabe's out doing some pickups.

She looked where he had glanced, saw me, raised her eyebrows at Po Sin.

He pointed at me.

-Sorry. That's Web. Remember?

Her forehead creased, uncreased.

-Web. Yes, of course, I'm sorry.

She came through the door into the shop, hand held out.

-Nice to finally meet you.