He tried to laugh, but it came out like a girly giggle. Jesus. “It’s like what I do that’s legal, sort of. It’s like day labor. Only it’s mostly night labor, on account of it mostly happens at night. Some guy calls me to unload trucks. I mean, I don’t know for sure that the stuff’s hot, but when you’re unloading an IKEA truck in the middle of the night at some crappy old warehouse somewhere, you got to think that ain’t what IKEA had in mind. Right?”
“Right. And how do you get paid?”
“They give me some cash when it’s done.”
“How often do you do this?”
“Couple times a month.” Another giggly noise came out. “Pays a hell of a lot better than the day stuff.”
The guy pointed to a sign for the hospital and got off the freeway and a couple minutes later there they were in the lot. The guy called somebody named Steve on his phone. They talked a minute, and then the guy told Johnny to get out of the car.
They walked to the hospital and met Steve in the lobby. He had a green hospital uniform and a kind of pointy shaved head.
“You look terrible,” the guy who’d picked up Johnny said.
“Double shift and a three-fatality crash. Little boy’s going to find out he’s an orphan and an only child. Who’s this?”
“The emergency contact.”
Steve gave Johnny a funny look. “Oh?”
“He didn’t do it. She’s his sister. He wants to see her.”
“That’s going to be difficult. What with it being the middle of the night.”
“But you can arrange it, right? Because I need to talk to her, and I think it’ll be a lot easier if he’s with me.”
“It can’t wait till morning?”
“I probably could. But Johnny here’s kind of worried, and I’d like to ease his mind.”
Johnny didn’t know if he really did or if he was using it to get in to see Tiff sooner. Either way was fine with him.
Steve was acting all worked up, but Johnny thought it was phony. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Stay here.” He walked away.
“Why are you helping me?” Johnny said.
“It’s what I do.”
Johnny wasn’t sure what that meant. There had to be an angle. “I’ve been good,” he said, “What’s your name?”
“Call me Logan.”
“Well, thanks, Logan. You’re okay.”
There was a candy machine near them, and Logan caught him looking. “You want something?” he said.
“If they got a Snickers. I like Snickers.”
He left, and Steve came back. Then Logan came back. He didn’t have a Snickers, but he had a couple of Paydays.
“Come on,” Steve said.
They went up in an elevator that smelled like a laundromat. The doors opened, and they got out.
“This way,” Steve said. In a little bit, they were outside a room. “They’ll kill me if they find out,” Steve said.
“They won’t find out,” Logan said. “And if they kill you, I’ll hunt them down.”
“I never know when you’re serious.” He opened the door. “Please, keep it short. And don’t get her excited. And don’t expect much. She’s sedated.”
The first bed wasn’t Tiff. It was an old woman with one of those oxygen tubes in her nose. They got past her, and there was Tiff. A light on the wall was on, so he could see how bad it was.
One whole side of her face was black and blue. She had a big bandage over her eye and the part of her face around it. A tube came down from a bag and went under the sheet. She was hooked up to a bunch of screens that showed how she was. Nothing was red or flashing or beeping. That was probably good.
He ran around the bed and took her hand, the good one. The other was wrapped in bandages. “Tiff?”
“Remember,” Logan said. “Take it easy.”
Johnny looked up at him. “Okay.” He held onto Tiff’s hand, loose like. “Tiff?”
Her eyes opened. Or at least the one he could see. It was all red.
She tried to talk, but only a sort of squeak came out.
“Give her some water,” Logan said.
Johnny let go her hand, found a plastic pitcher, poured some into a cup with a straw in it. He carefully put the straw to her lips. She got her head up enough that she could drink a little. Then she put her head back down and said, “Johnny?” like she was whispering.
“It’s me, Tiff. You’re gonna be all right.”
She spotted Logan. “Who?”
“He’s on our side.”
Her eyes moved slowly back to Johnny. “Why?”
Johnny didn’t know why Logan was on their side. But it didn’t matter, because it hit him that that wasn’t what she was asking. She was asking how come she’d gotten banged up like that. “I don’t know, Tiff. Who did it?”
Her eye flicked around. Then she said, “Tony.”
Johnny was sure he hadn’t heard her right. It didn’t make any sense. He bent closer. “Say it again.”
“Was … Tony.”
Okay, that time he was sure. Son of a bitch.
Steve came back in the room. “You guys have to leave. They’re coming to check her out, and they can’t find you here.”
Johnny stood up straight. He said to Logan, “It’s okay. We got what we need.”
“Who’s Tony?”
“Outside.” He bent down and kissed Tiff’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He reached up and turned out the lamp, and they got out of there.
Steve went in the room, and Johnny and Logan went back to the elevator. Logan waited until it came, and they were in it alone. Then he asked, “Who’s Tony?”
Johnny felt like the air was too thin. He grabbed his hat and crunched it in his hands. Then he stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Tony’s my dad,” he said.
3
