Burial of the Dead

PLOTS - 4

******

Billy the Driver’s in the back yard with Darren and Orpheus. They’re sitting at a card table with coffee cans wrapped in orange paper filled with change and bills. They’re counting the money spread over the table, the coins in small stacks, the bills pressed down.

“Not too bad,” Billy says, and Orph says Teddy went with Bucket and Dom to work the malls for the afternoon.

“How much this guy gonna’ cost us?” Darren asks, and Billy says it depends on what kind of daredevil he turns out to be.

“He was on TV,” Orph says. “Motherfucker starts flying around Atlantic City with some brothers right there, watchin’; they see this shit and they freak right the fuck out.”

“He can levitate?” Billy asks. “I mean you’re tellin’ me this guy defies the laws of gravity.”

“Saw it on TV,” Orph says. “Then again they coulda’ had wires and made ‘em invisible with some special-x Superman bullshit.”

“Dom says he ain’t gonna’ fly tonight,” Darren says.

“Motherfucker better fly, what the fuck we payin’ him for,” Orph says.

“Dom says he’s gonna do this other thing where they bury him alive.”

“Get out,” Billy says. “I put out the flyers sayin’ this guy’s gonna’ fly.”

“Maybe they gonna’ bury him and then he’s gonna’ fly,” Darren says.

“Tell you right now,” Orph says, “this motherfucker cancelled twice and we get him on a Monday night – he better fuckin’ fly.”

“It’s still a holiday,” Darren says.

“It ain’t no fuckin’ holiday,” Orph says.

“Sure it is,” Darren says.

“Then it’s one of them bullshit no-mail-today-holidays, not like it’s Thanksgivin’ or nothin’.”

“It’s local,” Billy says, “Something about the Charter Oak.”

“I thought it was Veterans Day,” Darren says.

“That’s November,” Billy says.

“You’re a veteran,” Darren says.

“Don’t remind me,” Billy says.

“Those Vietnam motherfuckers,” Orph says, “Now those motherfuckers were crazy.”

“You know, Orpheus,” Billy says, “I could do one of those college boy drinkin’ games with you.”

“What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout, Billy?”

“What I’m talkin’ about is every time you say fuck or motherfucker, person playin’ the game’s gotta’ take a drink. Swear to God, five minutes into the game those college-boys’ll be drunk on their ass.”

“Fuck me,” Orph says.

“Jesus,” Billy says. “Enough, already.”

Orpheus and Darren get serious till Billy leaves the table, then they do the high-five bullshit and laugh about the old guy who treats them okay.

Billy walks by the fence and down the driveway and sees the Buick parked at the curb. He walks around the front of the house. Detective Moraski’s standing on the front porch, ringing the doorbell.

“Morning, detective,” Billy says.

Moraski looks over the banister. “Hey, Billy, I’m glad you’re home.”