Coyote Blue Chapter 25~26

CHAPTER 25Wheels, Deals, and the Persistance of VisionsLas Ve gaseous subjectsteam organ sat in her car shivering and watching. She was parked up the r bug oute from a Vegas Harley-Davidson deceive w have-to doe withher she had one mea accepted gone with Lonnie on a delivery for the Guild. The street was deserted, and dark except for the odd luminescence of neon in the pilferow of a closed pawnshop. Litter danced in dust devils of desert wind that had grown c old(a) by dint of the night. Calliope curlight-emitting diode up in the teasers seat and tried to carry on herself with one of Grubbs draperys. The smell that came forward the blanket, a mix of sour milk and sweet baby, made her sad, and unconstipated though she had stopped breastfeeding months ago, her breasts ached for her son.She caught close to motion allow let let expose of the closet of the corner of her center field cardinal figures sexual climax out of an alley onto the sidewalk transfer. They w ere walking toward the car. Calliope slid push devour in the drivers seat. The mother instinct, the sense of smell of posit upeous invincibi illuminatedy that had filled her when she had come here, was leaking outdoor(a). Right presently she was not protecting her child she was afraid for herself.As the men approached she apothegm that they were young toughs, swaggering with their own willingness to violence, even as they staggered from the effect of some drink or drug. She slid farther buck in the seat, and when their fantasms fell across the cars hood she twisted squander and c overed herself with Grubbs blanket. She perceive their footsteps scrape and stop at the car, h auricula atriid their voices supra her.Check out this motherfucker.Some tall dollars here on that points a grand in tires on this social occasion.Pop the hood.Calliope heard someone trying to open(a) the door.Locked.Hang on a mi globee, I proverb a brick natural covering a ways.Footsteps exter nal. The car rocked with the act yanking at the door makele. Calliope could hear the keys swinging in the ignition. The second gentleman was coming acantha. Her wind caught. She waited for the crash. Sweat trickled down her forehead and dripped onto the gear tack knob.No man, not the windshield. You cant drive it with a broken windshield.Oh, right.Calliope braced herself for the impact of the brick, consequently something in her mind screamed NO Her feet were legato on the pedals. She pushed the clutch and gas to the floor, reached out from under the blanket, and turned the key.The Z roared to life, thundered, accordingly screamed as she kept the gas to the floor. She sat up and glanced at the both startled men, who were cowering a few feet out-of-door. Instantly their surprise turned to anger and the taller of the two raised the brick. Calliope popped the clutch and fought to keep the car straight as the tires burned off on the asphalt. She heard a loud c pressure stool her and felt splinters of glass hit her from behind.She power-shifted by means of three gears, turning over the tires and kicking the car sideways with each slam of the shifter. By the term she backed off the gas the pep pillometer was threatening 110. There was a thumping coming from the railway locomotive and a high-pitched wailing coming from someplace. She looked into the rearview mirror to see the hole in the back window and, behind it, flashing red and blue police lights.She hesitated only long enough to throw Grubbs blanket off her shoulders, thus slammed the Z into third, floored it, and verbalise a quick prayer to Kali the Destroyer.-=*=- If Lonnie cock Inman had ever made the connection that whenever he read the words American Standard, spelled out in globe amaranth blue against white porcelain, he felt a sudden urge to urinate, he dexterity hand over understood why Grubb, upon seeing white plastic bundles piled haphazardly on the motel- elbow room floor, crawl ed doggedly to, and whizzed gleefully on, 20 thousand dollars worth of methamphetamine. To Grubb, the bundles looked wish Pampers, a fine and private place to pee. deliveryman Christ, Cheryl, Lonnie yelled. He crawled out of his nappy. enduret you keep an eye on him for a posterior minute?Fuck you. You watch him, stud. Hes your kid. Cheryl threw a repose at Lonnie as she stormed naked into the bathroom.You were the one that said youd make a good mother. Throw me a wipe.Cheryl stood in front of the mirror work her jaw back and forth. Get your own towel. I view you fucked up my jaw.I did? I didnt do shit.Thats the problem, isnt it?Cheryl had been lolling Lonnies limpness most in her mouth for an hour, trying to gear up a reaction out of him, when she heard a sharp crack in her right ear and felt a painful grating in the back of her jaw.Lonnie grabbed a towel off the rack and went to where Grubb was happily splashing away on the drugs. Lonnie picked up the baby and put him o n the bed, then went back to clean off the packages.Oh, Christ. Cheryl, clean up the kid, will you?Fuck off.Lonnie stormed into the bathroom and grabbed her by the copper, yanking her head back until she was staring up at him. He spoke to her through gritted teeth. You clean up the kid direct or Ill snap your fucking neck. You understand? He yanked her head back further. Ive got to turn this shit azoic in the morning and then ride to atomic number 16 Dakota, and I subscribe to get some fucking sleep. If I have to kill you to get it I will. You understand? He relaxed his grip on her hair and she nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes.He dragged her out of the bathroom and threw her on the bed with Grubb, then threw the towel in her face. Now clean up the kid.Lonnie took some other towel and wiped each of the packages before packing them into Grubbs diaper bag.Cheryl rolled Grubb over and dried his bottom. Last time I take a vacation with you, she said. No gambling, no shows, no fu cking. I said She looked at him. No fu- The word caught in her throat.He was aiming his handgun at her head.-=*=- Until he motto the o betray 280Z rocket by him, the cop thought that the worst thing he was going to have to deal with on this shift was not smoking. He was wearing a patch on his left shoulder that was supposed to feed nicotine into his blood to keep him from craving cigarettes, but the urge to smoke was soundless at that place, so he fought it by eating do crazy. Hed gained ten pounds in a week, and he was musing over the idea of inventing a donut patch when the sports car roared by him. ease off away of habit, he butted a half-eaten cruller in the ashtray, hit the lights and siren, and pulled out in pursuit. The Z already had somewhat eight city blocks on him and he estimated it was doing nigh a hundred. He was reaching for the radio to call in the lead for help when a black Mercedes pulled out from a side street in front of him. He slammed on the brakes and threw the cruiser sideways, bringing it to a stop not ten feet from impact. The Mercedes was at a dead stop, blocking both lanes. The cop watched the Zs taillights fade in the distance on the other side.He killed the siren and switched the radio to the public address system. Get out of the car, now He waited but no one got out of the car. In fact, he couldnt see a driver at all, yet the Mercedes was fluid running. He considered calling for backup, then decided to handle it himself. He stepped out of the cruiser with his gun drawn, thorough to stay behind the car door.You, in the Mercedes, get out slowly. He maxim something move in the car, but it didnt look analogous a person. Holding his revolver at ready, he shined his flashlight at the car. Movement, but no driver.He saw three possibilities. The driver was unconscious, or was waiting to peel away when he moved away from the cruiser, or was lying in wait with a shotgun to stumble his head off. He decided it would be safest to assume the last, and without further blameing he crept to a foreshadowise just under the open drivers-side window. He heard a scratching sound just above his head and came up, gun first, to catch a glimpse of the back end of the skunk just as it sprayed him in the face.As he wiped his eyes he heard laughing and the Mercedes pulling away.-=*=- Clyde, owner of Clydes property for Your Car, said, No offense, chief, but you dont see many Indians in Mercedes. He kicked a tire and bent down to look at the capers of the paint job for signs of bodywork, keeping a hand on his head to firm his toupee. Looks clean.Its a good car, prairie wolf said.Clyde narrowed his eyes and smiled. Clyde had seen a diminished too much insolate in his sixty years and this sly smile, what he utilizationd to call his gotcha look, made him look like an old Chinese woman. And you have the title, right, chief?Title?Thats what I thought. Clyde stepped up to coyote, his head about level with the trickst ers sternum. Are you a policeman, or are you working in the service of any law-enforcement agency?Nope. sanitary then, lets do some business. Clyde grinned. Now, you and I know that we could fry eggs on this car, am I right? Of course I am. And youre not from around here, or youd have your own connections and wouldnt be here, am I right? Of course I am. And you dont compliments to take this car out on the interstate where the state patrol would spot it as hot in a second? No, you dont. He paused for effect, just to make sure everyone knew he was in control. Ill give you five thousand dollars for it.not enough, said brush wolf. Look, this car has a machine that signalizes you where you are.Clyde glanced inside the Mercedes at the navigation system, then shrugged. Chief, you see all these cars? Clyde gestured to a dozen cars on his lot. coyote looked around and nodded. Well, all these cars got something thatll promise you where youre at. I call them windows. You look out of em. No w, do you want to sell a car?Six thousand, Coyote said.Clyde crossed his arms and waited, tapped his foot, smiled into the night sky.Five, Coyote said.Ill be right back with your capital, chief. Can I have my boy give you a lift somewhere?Sure, Coyote said.Clyde went into his office, a mobile home whose entire side functioned as Clydes sign. In a flash he returned with a stack of hundreds. He counted them into Coyotes hand. A greasy teenager pulled up in an old Chevy. This is Clyde junior, Clyde said. Hell take you wherever you requirement to go.Its a good car, Coyote said. He handed the keys to Clyde and climbed into the Chevy. As they pulled away Coyote dug into his medicine pouch and pulled out a small plastic box that had once been on surface-to-air missiles key ring. He pushed the red button once, and a chirping sound came from under the hood of the Mercedes to signal that the alarm was armed.-=*=- Kiro Yashamoto stood in the corner of the treatment room watching two doctors battle for a mans life. one and only(a) doctor was young, white, and wore a stethoscope around his neck. He was fighting death with electronic monitors, oxygen, a battery of injected drugs, and a degree from Michigan State. The other doctor was an old Indian man, as wrinkled and weathered as the patient, who fought with prayers, songs, and by blowing on the patient through a mouthful of charcoal. He held no degree, but had been called to mend by the trumpeting of a white elk in the Spirit World. Despite the difference in their methods, the two worked as a team. Kiro could see that they respected each other, and he wished that his children were here to see these two cultures working together not for profit, but out of a common compassion. Alas, he had left them outside in the clinics small waiting room, and neither of the doctors would allow more people in here.A tall, tall Indian man dressed in denim stood in the corner opposite Kiro. His hair was cut scant(p) and shot with gray . Kiro guessed he was in his sixties, but it was hard to tell with these people. He saw Kiro watching and lightly crossed the room.My call off is Harlan Hunts Alone, he said, extending his hand.How do you do, Kiro said. He took Harlans hand and bowed slightly, then caught himself in the conflicting gesture and felt embarrassed.Harlan patted Kiros shoulder. Pokey is my brother. I wanted to thank you for bringing him here. The doctor said he would have died without your help.It was nothing, Kiro said.Just the same, Harlan smiled. The medicine man stopped singing and Harlan quickly turned to him.Hes gone, the medicine man said.The white doctor looked at the monitor. A steady blip played across the screen. Hes fine. His blood pressures coming up.Not dead, said the medicine man. Gone.Pokey began mumbling, then directing. Kiro could not hear what he was saying through the oxygen mask.Thats not Crow. What is that? asked the white doctor.Navaho, said the medicine man.He doesnt speak Nav aho, Harlan said. He doesnt even speak Crow.He doesnt here, the medicine man said. Hes not here.On a stone wall carvings of dead gods and the shadow of a man with the head of a dog. Pokey looks, but there is no figure plaster cast the shadow. He turns to run.Stop, the shadow says.Pokey stops but does not look back. Who are you? differentiate him there is death where he goes.Tell who?The trickster. Tell him. And tell him I am coming back.Who are you?The complete and the wall are gone. Ahead lie prairies. Pokey runs, calls, Old Man CoyoteWhat? Im busy. Twice in a few days is too much. Dont talk to me for another forty years.A shadow said to tell you that there is death where you are going.A shadow?A man with the head of a dog. I thought it was you playing a trick on me.Nope. So he said that there is death where I am going. He ought to know. Anything else?He said to tell you that he is coming back.Well, no shit. You have to go, old man. Youre dying again.I am?Yeah. Didnt you drink th at Kool-Aid I left you?There was no water. Who was-Go now.-=*=- The green line went flat. The monitor screeched out an alarm.Were losing him, the doctor said. He grabbed a syringe, filled it with epinephrine, and legion it into Pokeys chest. The medicine man began to sing a death song.CHAPTER 26Hang with a Horse Thief, conjure up Up WalkingLas VegasMinty Fresh was staring at nothing and thinking Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah when the fille behind the desk grabbed his arm, take aback him.Are you all right? she said.Fine, what is it?God, on the phone, for you. give thanks you. Minty picked up the phone and tried to drive Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah out of his head. M.F. here, he said.Your Indian is back in the building, main entrance. Keep an eye on him.Right. Minty hung up. He check out his watch and documentaryized that he must have been staring for ten minutes before the call. wherefore couldnt he shake that song? He hadnt heard it since his grandmother had taken him to see Song of the South whe n he was a child. Grandma had heard the Uncle Remus stories of Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit from her own grandmother, who had been a slave. She said that the stories came with the slaves from westside Africa. There, Brer Rabbit was known as Esau, the trickster. Maybe it was the Indian talk of the town about tricking people that had set it off.Since the Indian had come into the casino, Minty had felt uneasy. It was as if the Indian could look into his soul and see secrets that he himself did not know. He looked up to see the Indian coming through the lobby.Minty smiled. Mr. Coyote, youre back.How do you know my charge?Minty was spun by the question. He felt his shell of cool detachment cracking and dropping off like old paint. I I dont know.Its okay, Coyote said. I want everyone to know my name. Not like you. You carry your name like a man with a knife hidden in his boot. You should wear your name like a red bow tie.Ill try to remember that, Minty said, trying to sound patronizing. If the casino knew his real name theyd have him greeting people in clown shoes and a purple wig indoors the hour. A red bow tie indeed.Coyote fanned a handful of hundreds and waved them under Mintys nose. Did you make unnecessary my place at the t adequate?Im sure we can find you a suitable place. Follow me.Minty led Coyote to an out-of-the-way crap table where only a few players were gathered. One of them, a lanky middle-aged man in a cowboy hat and jeans, turned and looked Coyote up and down, then scoffed and turned to the stickman, shaking his head in disgust. Prairie niggers, he said under his breath.Minty moved up behind the cowboy and bent over until his mouth was even with the cowboys ear. I beg your pardon?The cowboy spun around and stumbled back against the table, his eyes wide. Nothin, he said. Minty remained crouched over, his face almost touching the cowboys.Is there a problem, sir?No. No problem, the cowboy said. He turned and scraped his chips off the table and quickly walked away.Minty stood slowly and caught the stickman glaring at him. A wave of embarrassment burned over him. That sort of direct intimidation was completely out of line bad form, bad judgment. He imagined that there would be a call from God waiting for him when he returned to the desk. He turned to Coyote, who was staring down the front of a cocktail waitresss dress.Minty said, Can we get you something to drink?Umbrellas and swords, piles of them.Very good. Minty nodded to the cocktail waitress. Mai tai, extra fruit.Coyote handed his cash to the dealer. Black ones.The dealer counted the money and handed it to the supervisor. changing five thousand. The other players looked up at Coyote, then Minty, then quickly looked down to avoid eye contact.A pair of fresh-faced newlyweds stood at the head of the table, exchanging kisses and whispers. The stickman pushed the dice to the woman, who giggled as she picked them up. Thats my gilt girl, her hubby said, kissing her ear. saucy sh ooter coming out, the stickman said.Is she lucky? Coyote asked.Shes made me the luckiest man in the world, the young husband said. The girl blushed and buried her face in her husbands shoulder.Minty found that he was irritated by the couples fawning and wondered why. He saw it ten clock a day newlyweds at the tables acting like they were the first to discover love, glued together for a few days of starry-eyed public foreplay between bouts in a hotel bed. And theyd be back in twenty years, separating when they hit the door, her locking onto a slot machine trance he played blackjack and dreamed of sneaking off to a jiggle show. Minty wanted to warn them that time would make hypocrites of them. One day youll wake up and find that youre married to a husband and a father, a wife and a mother, and youll wonder whatever happened to the lover that you swapped spit and sweetness with over a crap table. But why did it matter? It never had before. Its this Indian, Minty thought. Hes making me lose it.Coyote laid all his chips on the pass line. Are you lucky? he said to the bride.She smiled and nodded. Her husband placed a two-dollar chip on the pass line. Go ahead, honey. He held her shoulders, bracing her against the weight of the dice, and the girl let fly. twain Snake eyes No pass The stickman raked in the bets. Coyote dove over the table and caught the woman by the throat, riding her to the floor. The husband stepped aside as the light of his life went down.You are not lucky Coyote screeched. You lost all my money You are not lucky The girl clawed at his face with lace-gloved hands.Minty Fresh caught Coyote by the back of the neck and pulled him off the girl with one hand, gesture away the security jesters who had appeared with the other. Ive got this handled. He nodded to the girl on the floor and the jesters helped her to her feet.Minty dragged Coyote away from the table.She lied. She lied.Perhaps youd like to rest for a charm, Minty said, as if he was taking Coyotes hat rather than dragging him across the floor. Can we get you something to eat? The dining room is closed, but our snack bar is open. Minty was acutely aware that he was in the process of losing his job. He should have turned the Indian over to security. After years as the officer of order, he was falling apart.I need to get more money, Coyote said, settleing down now.Minty set Coyote on his feet, keeping a restraining hand on the tricksters neck. Youre sharing a room with Mr. Hunter, arent you? Ill have the bellman take you up to the room.Coyote thought for a moment. No, my money is at another hotel and I dont have a car.Thats not a problem, sir. Ill call around a limo and drive you myself.Minty steered Coyote out a side exit of the casino and walked him to the valet booth, where he ordered a limo from the attendant. In a moment a stretch Lincoln pulled up to the curb and an impatient(predicate) squire held the door while Coyote climbed in.Minty adjusted the seat before climbing in still, his knees were up around the wheel. As he drove he tried to form some sort of systematization for his mistakes something to wash him clean with the management. Perhaps the Indian would lose enough money to justify the lapses of judgment.Where are you staying, sir?The Frontier.Minty nodded and pulled out onto the strip. Call Camelot, he said.A series of beeps sounded in the car and a womans voice came on the speaker. Camelot.Desk, please.thank you.A series of clicks and a different voice. Camelot, reservations.This is M.F., Minty said. Im taking a customer to the Frontier. Ill return in a few minutes.Very good, sir. Theres a message for you from upstairs. Do you want me to put you through?No. Thank you. There was no sense in rushing to the mailbox if you knew there was a letter conk out waiting for you. Off, Minty said. There was a click.Coyote was hanging on the back of the seat, aspect down at the cellular phone. You can talk to machines?Just this one. Voic e activated so you can keep your hands on the wheel.I can talk to animals. Can you take other forms?Minty smiled. The Indian was a nut case, but at least he was an amusing nut case. Actually, he said. This is another form. In real life Im a short Jewish woman.I wouldnt have known, Coyote said. It must be the sunglasses. He looked at the dashboard. Does this car tell you where you are?No.Ha Mine is better.Pardon me?Follow that car, Coyote said, pointing ahead to a 280Z with a shattered back window turning off the strip.For a second, Minty was tempted to appraise the car, then he caught himself. I cant do that, sir. What was it about this Indian that he could twist the world? If he wasnt fired when he got back to the casino, Minty decided he would hire a hooker to rub his temples and tell him that everything was okay until he believed it or ran out of money, whichever came first. Maybe the Indian was right about people absentminded to be tricked.I need cigarettes, Coyote said.We hav e complimentary cigarettes at the casino, sir.No. I need some now. At that store. Coyote pointed to a minimart across the strip.As you wish, Minty said. He pulled the limo into the minimart and turned off the engine.Coyote said, Im out of money until we go to my motel.Allow me, sir, Minty opened the car door and unfolded himself onto the curb.Ill pay you back.Not necessary, sir. Camelot will take care of it.Salems, Coyote said. A carton.Minty closed the door and walked into the minimart. He found the cigarettes, then grabbed a package of Twinkies off the shelf for himself. He checked the date on the Twinkies July 1956. Good. They had another thirty years of guaranteed freshness.He fell in line behind a drunk man who was wave a gas card at the clerk. Look, man, its this simple. You charge my card for forty bucks worth of gas and give me twenty in cash. You get a hundred-percent profit.Minty listened to the clerk try to explain why this couldnt be make and smiled in sympathy, as if t o say, They lose their money, then they lose their minds. The clerk rolled his eyes as if to say, This might take a while.Minty looked outside to check on his passenger and saw the limo backing away from the curb. He tossed the cigarettes and Twinkies on the counter and ran out, losing his glasses as he ducked to get through the doors. He reached the street as the limo accelerated out of reach, then stopped and stared down the strip, watching the Lincolns taillights until they blended into a million other lights. Acid panic rose in his throat, then subsided, replaced by the resolved calm of the doomed.He turned and walked slowly back to the minimart to find his glasses. As he reached the door, the drunk, his gas card still in hand, stumbled through and Minty caught him by the shoulders to avoid a collision. The drunk looked up, then tore himself away and stepped back. Jesus Christ, boy What happened to your eyes? You been sittin too close to the TV?Minty raised his hand to cover his golden eyes, then dropped it and shrugged. Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah, he said with a grin.-=*=- Dawn was starting to break and the sky was turning from red to blue. Coyote sat in the limo, which was parked a block behind Calliopes orange Z, which was parked a block away from Nardonnes Harley-Davidson Shop. Lonnies roll was parked outside.Call surface-to-air missile, Coyote said. Nothing happened. He pounded on the car phone. I said, call surface-to-air missile. Nothing happened.Call surface-to-air missiles room, Coyote said to the phone. Nothing happened and the trickster yipped with anger. Call surface-to-air missiles room or Ill rip your cord off. He picked up the murderer and beat it on the dashboard, then he saw a sticker with the casinos logo stuck to the receiver. Call Camelot, he said. The phone lit up and beeped through some numbers.The phone rang once and a woman serve uped. Camelot.I want to talk to Sam.Do you have a last name, sir?No, just Coyote.Im sorry, sir, we have no gue st listed under Coyote.Not me, Im here. His name is Hunter.We have no Coyote Hunter. Theres a Samuel Hunter.Thats him.One minute while I connect you.Ill bet youre ugly in person.What? Sams sleepy voice came over the phone.Sam, I found the girl.Where? Where are you? What time is it? Whos ugly?Morning. You have to come here. Im at a place called Nardonnes Harley-Davidson Shop. The girl is here, and the motorcycle with her picture on it is parked outside.Give me directions. Ill be there in a few minutes. Keep Calliope there. I have to check out and get the car.Take a cab.You didnt take my car?No, this car is better. You can talk to the phone. Your car is gone. I sold it.You what?Take a cab. Im in a big black car. Off.The phone clicked, cutting Sam off in the middle of a tirade. Coyote didnt know whether the girl had a phone in her car, but he decided to try. Call the girl, he said to the phone.The phone beeped through the numbers. This is Carla, a autoerotic womans voice said. Would y ou like this on your phone bill or your book of facts card?Phone bill, Coyote said.If you like leather, press one, Carla said. Twins, press two. For California blondes, press three. Big bottoms, press- Coyote picked up the handset and press three.Another sexy voice came on, Hi, Im Brandy, who are you?Coyote.Would you like to know what Im wearing, Coyote?No, I have to tell the girl to stay here until Sam comes.Well take as long as Sam needs. Is Sam getting hard?No, hes pissed off about his car.There was a pause and the sound of her lighten up a cigarette. Brandy said, Okay. Lets start over.-=*=- Minty waited for the second limo at the pay phone outside the minimart. He flipped through his address book until he found the detectives number, then dialed.The phone rang twice, then there was the sound of the receiver rattling and falling. Finally a sleepy, hostile mans voice said, What?Minty said, Jake, this is M.F., at Camelot.Fuck that. This is harassment. Its its five thirty in the m orning. You said I could have all the time I needed to pay.Im not calling about that, Jake. I need a favor. One of the limos has been stolen.Why call me at home? You guys have Lo-Jack beacons in those limos, dont you? Call the station. Theyll track it and have it back in half an hour.I cant call the station, Jake. This is delicate. I need to get it back without bringing the police into it.Youre fucked. The Lo-Jack trackers are installed in the cruisers.Can you put one in one of our limos? Just until I find the stolen one.No way. The tracking system takes hours to install.Jake, I need a favor. Just a favor. I havent mentioned what you owe us.This strong-arm shit isnt your style, M.F.But you can get use of a unit with the Lo-Jack tracker in it?Meet me at the station in a half hour.Whats the range on the tracker?About a mile, depending on the terrain. Farther in the desert. Youre not going to be able to cover much area with only one car.Then make it fifteen minutes. And Jake-What?Thank you. Minty hung up. So much for the police, he thought. Now if I can get it back before the casino finds out. If not, I guess its time to go shopping for a red bow tie.-=*=- Calliope was sure she could do it if Grubb was trapped under a Chrysler she could lift the car and pull him out. You heard about it all the time Hundred-Pound Mom Lifts Two-Ton Car to Save Trapped Tot. It seemed to happen often enough that it should be part of Lamaze training. Okay, now breathe, focus, grab the bumper now lift Yep, she could do it a Chrysler on each arm if she had to. She wasnt so sure about getting Grubb back from Lonnie. Maybe if that other woman wasnt with him, being so hostile and negative.She was feeling a little better now that the sun was coming up. Shed been shivering since the punks had broken her back window, from jitteriness and the cold. And she didnt have enough gas money to leave the Z running with the heater on while she waited for Lonnie to come out of the Harley shop. She m ight not have enough to make it home as it was. Besides, something was improper with the car shed tached it too high while running from the police and something had given way in prate and smoke.As she watched, Lonnie came through the front door of the shop carrying Grubbs diaper bag. Calliope swallowed hard, trying to push down her fear fear of failure. She got out of the Z. The woman followed Lonnie holding Grubb in her arms. Calliope ran toward them, then stopped when she saw the womans face. It was like one painful purple bruise with eyes.Lonnie, Calliope called.Lonnie and the woman turned. Grubb saw his mother and reached out. Lonnie pushed down Grubbs hand. What are you doing here?I came to get Grubb. You shouldnt have taken him.Talk to the judge. Hes mine half the time.He was right. Calliope had gone to Social Services once before when Lonnie took Grubb on a road trip. Her caseworker told her that the law couldnt do anything to help.You dont want him. You just want to hu rt me.Lonnie laughed, threw his head back, and shook with laughter. For all the times he had postured and threatened and screamed and pounded, he had never really scared her. She was scared now.You shouldnt take him on a run like this, Lonnie. What if you get busted?Run? What run? Were just on a little family camping trip, arent we, Cheryl? The woman tucked her face behind Grubb.Give him to me, please, Calliope pleaded.Lonnie climbed onto his bike grinning and hit the starter. The bike fired up and Lonnie shouted over the engine, Go home. Ill bring him back in a few days. Cheryl climbed on behind him and he dropped the bike into gear.No Calliope started to run after them. Lonnie gunned the bike and roared off.She shuffled to a stop and saw Grubb reaching out over Cheryls shoulder. Her eyes blurred with tears. She turned and ran to her car, wiped her eyes, and saw the limo parked down the street. Someone was sitting in it, just watching her. What are you looking at? she screamed.-=*= - Sam made the chambermaid help him search the hotel room for his wallet for fifteen minutes before giving up and leaving her with a promise of a tip on the credit card. He was thinking This is like being stuck in some Kafkaesque Roadrunner cartoon when the ward-heeler from the Acme Cab Company pulled up, the driver wearing a fez. Animated by Hieronymus Bosch, Sam thought.In the cab, he said, Do you know a Harley-Davidson shop called Nardonnes?Bad part of town. Cost you double.Its broad daylight.Oh, it is. My shift is over. Sorry.Okay, double, Sam said. Why quibble? He couldnt pay the guy anyway.When they pulled in behind the limo, Sam said, bide here, Ill get your money. He got out and looked down the street to the Harley shop, then went up to the limo and pounded on the blacked-out window. The window whirred down. Coyote grinned.Where is she?Took off. Just now.Why didnt you stop her?She didnt want to be stopped. Well find her shes following the biker, and we know where hes go ing.The cabby beeped his horn. Give me my wallet, Sam said. Coyote handed the wallet out the window. Sam rifled through it and came up empty. Theres no money left.Nope, Coyote said.The cabdriver leaned on the horn. Sam signaled for him to wait, ran around to the other side of the limo, and got in.Go, Sam said.What about the cabdriver?Fuck him.Thats the spirit. Coyote started the limo and peeled away. He checked the rearview mirror. Hes not following.Good.Hes talking to his radio. Got a smoke?Sam dug a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, tapped one out, and lit it. Wheres my car?I sold it.You cant sell it without the title.I got a good deal, five thousand.Are you nuts? Five thousand wouldnt buy the stereo.I needed to win my money back. I won a lot of money on the machine you put the cards in, but a shaman with a stick won it back from me.Sam butted his cigarette in the ashtray and hung his head in his hands, trying to let it all sink in. So you sold my car for five grand?Ye p. Coyote snatched the mashed cigarette and relit it.And where is that money?The shaman had strong cheating medicine.Thats the kind of thinking that got Manhattan sold for a box of beads.So they still tell that story? It was one of my best tricks. They gave us many beads for that island. They didnt know that you cant own land.Sam sighed and slouched in his seat, thinking he should be angry, or worried about his car, but strangely he was more concerned with catching Calliope. They were on the highway now. Sam glanced at the speedometer. Slow down to the speed limit. We dont need cop trouble. Im assuming you stole this car.I counted coup stealing a tethered horse.Tell me, Sam said.Coyote told the story of Minty and the limo, turning it into a fable full of danger and magic, making himself the hero. He was coming to the part about the car phone when it rang.Sam reached for the answer button and pulled back his hand in disgust. Whats this gunk all over the phone? It looks like-Im not to that part of the story yet.Then you answer it.Speak, Coyote said, and the phone lit up and clicked. Is that you, Brandy?A very deep, calm voice came over the speakerphone, I want the car back, now. Pull over and stop. Im a couple of minutes behind you. The police are-Off, Coyote said. The phone hung up. Coyote turned to Sam. This is a good car. You can talk to the phone. Her name is Brandy. Shes very friendly.Uh-huh, Sam said.That wasnt her.Pull off at the next exit.