The Weight Part 8

"Nah. Who could do business in a place like this? They got cameras all around, and if you don't live here, you have to sign this guest book. Can you see anyone coming to visit me doing that?"

He was right. I couldn't even see Solly Solly in this place, never mind some of the guys he puts jobs together for. I felt like he wasn't just showing the place to me, he was showing me respect, too. in this place, never mind some of the guys he puts jobs together for. I felt like he wasn't just showing the place to me, he was showing me respect, too.

"Anyone takes a look in here, it's like some maid just got finished, right?" he said. "But so what? The building, they give you that service. For extra, of course. That's a racket. I hire my own. You remember Ken?"

"Yeah," I said. He was that Irish guy I used to know. Well, maybe not know know, exactly. But I looked up to him. Everybody did.

"He's gone on, G.o.d rest the crazy mick b.a.s.t.a.r.d's soul. Ken, he was a good man. Once did a longer stretch than you just wrapped up, never even nibbled at the cheese."

"He wouldn't."

"No. Ken, he was a piece of rebar."

"You mean tough?"

"Sure, tough. But that's not what I mean. You pour too much concrete without you got rebar in it, it won't hold together. That was Ken, see? You have him in on a job, he's the one who holds it together, even when things go bad. He was doing that, doing just just that, when he cashed out." that, when he cashed out."

I didn't say anything.

"Armored car. You don't see much of those anymore, except when there's an inside man. But this was a straight takedown. Perfect timing. Like a Swiss watch. Only, a squad car just stumbles across it. Shouldn't've happened-we had their patrol route down to the minute. But there they were.

"We had two getaway cars. One was okay, on the far side of the money truck. The other one-the one Ken was supposed to take-it was on the wrong side. The cop car was already past it when they spotted the play. Probably went right to the radio. If Ken ran to the car he was supposed to take, they'd know the guy sitting behind the wheel was in on it, too."

"I know the guy?"

"I already said-Oh, you mean the wheelman? Yeah. Sure. Everybody knows Buddha."

"He'd wait."

"Exactly! That's what Ken knew. So he opened up on the squad car. By the time they had him down, probably twenty slugs in him, everybody else was long gone."

"That's a man."

"You think everyone don't know that? His daughter, she got his share. To this day, she's got no idea where it came from. Ken didn't leave a will. He didn't have a straight-life cover like me; he was outlaw all the way. So, the way she got paid, different guys, they'd drop around, leave me the money they owed Ken. Just paying off a loan. They knew I'd take care of it.

"Must have been hard for the girl at first. She was still in high school. Private school, no less. But n.o.body could come around and explain until after the cops stopped nosing into the kid's life. They must've thought Ken was as dumb as they are-like he was ever gonna leave his work stuff where he lived!

"Ken had a little house. Out on the Island, I think. Or close to it, anyway. The cops practically tore it apart, but there was nothing for them to find. His daughter, Grace, that is is her name, she never knew a thing about her father's business...and he never brought any of it home." her name, she never knew a thing about her father's business...and he never brought any of it home."

"She got his whole share, though, right?"

"Of course," he said, giving me one of those "What are you, stupid?" looks. "But not all at once. I mean, it had to be in cash; what was she going to do, throw it all into a bank somewhere? I handled it for her.

"Anyway, she's in college now. Or maybe she's already finished-I don't know how long it takes to be one of those social workers."

"Me, either."

"That's okay. See, Grace, she's my maid. Comes in once a week. I never stay here, so there's really nothing for her to do. Plus, this is a quiet place to study, right?"

"Sure."

"Only, being Ken's daughter, she has has to vacuum the place, do some dusting. I told her, by me, I don't care-all I want is that cover story. I have a maid in once a week, why to vacuum the place, do some dusting. I told her, by me, I don't care-all I want is that cover story. I have a maid in once a week, why wouldn't wouldn't the place look all neat and perfect if anyone took a look? She says, sure, she understands. But she doesn't actually listen to a d.a.m.n word I say. When I come back here-I try to do that, every couple, three weeks-the envelopes I leave for her are gone. And there's always new stuff in the refrigerator. the place look all neat and perfect if anyone took a look? She says, sure, she understands. But she doesn't actually listen to a d.a.m.n word I say. When I come back here-I try to do that, every couple, three weeks-the envelopes I leave for her are gone. And there's always new stuff in the refrigerator.

"See how smart this girl is? It's always this health-food c.r.a.p. That's what she she eats, not me. So she can have her meals in here, and, anyone looks, it's like I'm living here, get it?" eats, not me. So she can have her meals in here, and, anyone looks, it's like I'm living here, get it?"

"Yeah, I get it. But you'd do it anyway, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Take care of the girl. Even if the job went bad. Even if there was was no share to hold for him." no share to hold for him."

"Oh. Well, see, that was always part of Ken's deal. Anything happens to him, I do that, sure."

"He trusted you."

"Ken? Hard to tell with a man like him. He just...believed in things. Catholic, he was. Wouldn't spit on a priest, f.u.c.king hated hated nuns, but...Ah, who knows? Maybe he thought he could come back and haunt me or something." nuns, but...Ah, who knows? Maybe he thought he could come back and haunt me or something."

"Like a ghost?"

"A golem, more likely. But what am I, a mind reader now?"

I wasn't going to ask Solly what a golem is-the last thing I wanted was for him to start going sideways before I got my money. "I was just...okay, why do you you think she takes the money, Solly?" think she takes the money, Solly?"

"You mean, being Ken's daughter? Oh, I told her a good good story about that, believe me. I leave her five hundred a week. Paying off a loan. With what I told her I owed her father, I'll be dead ten years and it still won't be paid off. Grace, she knows: first week there's no envelope, that means I'm not coming back. Then she won't, either. But she knows where her bank account is, see?" story about that, believe me. I leave her five hundred a week. Paying off a loan. With what I told her I owed her father, I'll be dead ten years and it still won't be paid off. Grace, she knows: first week there's no envelope, that means I'm not coming back. Then she won't, either. But she knows where her bank account is, see?"

"That's slick."

"That's me, kid. Mr. Angles. Now let's go get your money."

Solly hit "PG" on the elevator pad. When it stopped, it opened into an underground garage. A young black guy in some kind of uniform was waiting. Soon as he saw Solly, he stepped back.

"Mistah Vee!" a much older black man called out from the beat-up old easy chair he was sitting in, a few feet away. "Rex have your car ready for you in a snap."

A monster black car rolled up. I never saw anything like it. Only had two doors, but it was bigger than any limo. More like a freight car than something you drive.

The black guy in the uniform hopped out, and went back to his post. The old guy held the door open for Solly. "The boy ain't got a clue, do he, suh?"

"Which one, Lester?"

"Oh. Oh, I didn't mean nothin', Mistah Vee. I wasn't saying nothin' about your young man." Meaning me, I guessed. "I was talking about Rex over there. He my sister's youngest boy. Ain't too swift, but the building, all they just wanted was someone stay down here, make sure it's safe for the residents."

"How many years we know each other?" Solly said.

"More than I likes to remember, suh."

"Me, too. So why're you still running that plantation game on me?"

The old black guy lowered his voice. "Been playing it safe so long, it's all I know, I guess," he said.

"Yeah," Solly told him. "Guys like us, we got no choice, do we?"

He slipped the old guy a bill.

"Get in," he told me.

There was no door handle, so I pushed the b.u.t.ton where it should have been, and the door opened. From the outside, the car gleamed like it had been dipped in a pool of black ink. Inside, it looked new. Solly pulled away, slow and smooth. I couldn't hear the engine.

"What the h.e.l.l is is this?" I couldn't help asking him. this?" I couldn't help asking him.

"Putz," he said. "You never heard of the Lincoln Continental?"

"Sure. But..."

"Not a a Lincoln Continental, Sugar; Lincoln Continental, Sugar; the the Lincoln Continental. You know how they have them all with numbers, like the Mark III or the Mark IV, like that?" Lincoln Continental. You know how they have them all with numbers, like the Mark III or the Mark IV, like that?"

"I guess so."

"This one's got no number. Know why? Because this is the first of the line. If they had a Mark I, that's what this would be. Back when this was new, they built cars to last, not like the c.r.a.p they make today."

"They were all like this?"

"Don't be a clown, kiddo. A Chevy's always been a Chevy; a Ford's always been a Ford. But this baby never saw an a.s.sembly line; it was hand-built. Not just top-of-the-line, top of them all all."

"I'm not surprised it lasted this long-feels like we're in a d.a.m.n tank."

"A tank with plenty of pep. Not that you want to go racing around in a car like this. That would be...Well, it would just be wrong."

"I don't get it. The whole car thing, I don't get any of that."

"It's not the car; it's what it means. Me, I wanted one of these from the minute I first saw one, a couple of years after the war. A car like this, it sets you apart."

"From who?"

"From everyone everyone. I don't care if you're a young shvartser shvartser in Harlem or an in Harlem or an alter k.o.c.ker alter k.o.c.ker in Miami, your idea of heaven is still a Cadillac. But next to in Miami, your idea of heaven is still a Cadillac. But next to this this beauty, a Caddy's a piece of s.h.i.t. Back when we were kicking the c.r.a.p out of the krauts, this was the best car on the planet." beauty, a Caddy's a piece of s.h.i.t. Back when we were kicking the c.r.a.p out of the krauts, this was the best car on the planet."

"You were in that?"

"You think I'm, what, a Zen Buddhist? Back then, a Jewish boy, he couldn't walk the streets unless he was home on leave. Better be in uniform, too. Otherwise, the old ladies, they'd spit on you. And the young ones-forget it.

"Don't get me wrong, that was one job I couldn't wait wait to get in on. Look at me now, you wouldn't believe it, but back then I was a lion. The only thing I ever worried about was getting sent to the Pacific Theater." to get in on. Look at me now, you wouldn't believe it, but back then I was a lion. The only thing I ever worried about was getting sent to the Pacific Theater."

"That was extra bad?"

"It was all bad, kid. But how was I gonna get to kill any n.a.z.is over there?"

"You wanted to kill them?"

"I wanted to kill all all of them. I just wish the a.s.sholes who ran the government had dropped that big one on Berlin, too." of them. I just wish the a.s.sholes who ran the government had dropped that big one on Berlin, too."

"The atom bomb, right? You mean, they only had the one?"

Solly slapped himself on his forehead. "Who am I talking to? We had lots lots of them, Sugar. You think we only hit j.a.pan one time?" of them, Sugar. You think we only hit j.a.pan one time?"

"Well, if they had so many-"

"They weren't gonna drop nukes on white people, kid. Simple as that. I don't know how it was out west back then. But here, the Germans had their own part of town. First Avenue in the low nineties. They even called it 'Germantown.' Before the war, they had a lot of pull in this city, so you have to figure, they had it other places, too. But it still comes down to the same thing. You can't tell a German from a Swede just by looking at them, but you can spot a j.a.p at a hundred yards."

"Yeah, I get it."

"Nah. It's a lot more complicated than that. But let me ask you you a question, okay? Tell the truth: you really give a rat's a.s.s about anything that happened way before you were born?" a question, okay? Tell the truth: you really give a rat's a.s.s about anything that happened way before you were born?"

"I guess not."

I watched him drive, working the column shifter like one of those guys who can type with their eyes closed. It was all so smooth. Not just the ride, with the big car swallowing all the b.u.mps in the road; Solly, he was smooth, too.

"Isn't this thing a little-?"

"What? Distinctive? Sure it is! What, I'm gonna use it on a bank job? Besides, people need to see what real real cla.s.s is every once in a while." cla.s.s is every once in a while."

"It's...really something."

"Just like new," Solly said. "Better, actually. Things like tires, they don't make 'em like they used to...and that's a good good thing." thing."

Nearly five o'clock in the morning, and people were still staring at the car every time we stopped at a light. One time, it was a big black one like Solly's, only it was one of those SUVs. It was painted a different kind of black from Solly's. Even the windows were black.

Somebody stuck a cell phone out the window. It was on Solly's side, so I slumped in the seat, looked down. The SUV was playing some noise, sounded like an elephant stampede. Same stuff they play over the speakers at Rikers. That was another good thing about being sent way Upstate.

Neon ribbons inside the SUV kept changing colors. The wheels were black, but the centers were gold; they kept spinning even with the wheels stopped.

"Solly..."

"I see him, kid. Just taking pictures with his cell phone. Every place I go with this car, they do that."

"What about your license plate?"

"I should care?" Solly said. "This beauty, she's as legit as it gets. Those kind"-tilting his head in the direction of the fancy black SUV-"they don't know how to act."

We just kept driving. A long loop around the city, like old men taking a stroll in the park. Solly stayed in the right-hand lane on First, timing it so we rolled through on green. Way downtown, he caught a yellow light. Solly eased the big car to a stop, being real careful.

Looking straight ahead, he asked me, "Is that place still open?"

I didn't know what place he meant, but as I turned to look out my window, a flash went off. By the time I got done blinking, Solly had the green and we took off.

"I saw it," he said, like he knew what I was thinking. "Just one of those 'artiste' dips.h.i.ts running around with a camera. Probably wants to catch the sun coming up over the East River or something like that."

"You sure?"