– Yeah, thats what Im saying. You need it in some other brand of English?

– You cut Talbot and started this whole round of shit because?

– Because motherfucker was reneging on a business agreement. I mean, shit may fly in Butte County, but not in Hollywood.

I stared at the rear of the bobtail we were stuck behind.

– Jaime. You cut a man. His boss, his uncle got pissed. He got so pissed, he killed the man you cut.

– And?

I cranked the wheel over and took us off Ocean onto the access road to Terminal T and pulled to the side of the road.

– Dots not connecting, are they? Pointless for me to continue? Yes, I can see thats the case. I wont even bother with the part where they must have been watching your hotel room when I showed up. The part where they followed me and Soledad up to L.A. and snatched her and, by the by, stole my bosss van. Oh, and that, that bit of grand theft auto, for the record, that led to another van being firebombed and shots being fired into a place of business. But I will refrain from lining it up so you can see how all these events result from you not being willing to pick up someones fucking per diem. Asshole.

He brushed his hand at me.

– Not my fault. People responsible for themselves. Nobody in this, nobody that didnt put themselves in it.

I raised my hand.

– Id beg to differ. My ass is in this because I got dragged in by a psycho cowboy who told me to get his almonds or something bad would happen to someone I like.

He leaned close.

– No, youre in this because my sis called you in the middle of the night for a little help and you came running as fast as you could because you wanted to get in tight with her and tap that ass.

It would have been nice to tell him he was wrong. More to the point, it would have been nice if he had been wrong. But he wasnt.

I slumped back in the seat.

– OK. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck us all. Were all fucked. Now what?

He unzipped the bank envelope and took out a pistol and pointed it at me.

– Now we discuss terms. Points of gross and shit.

– They have your sister!

– Man, I dont care. I mean, I care. And Im gonna get her back, but I dont want any misunderstanding, Im getting my fucking ten percent.

– Wait, is that the real ten percent, or the fake ten percent you were too stupid to realize wasnt really ten percent because you are so fucking stupid?

– Man, did I show you this?

He picked up the gun from the dash again and showed it to me.

– Thats all youve shown me for the last half hour.

He pointed it at me.

– So stop fucking around.

– You stop pointing that thing at me! I told you in the first place, I cannot think when you point that at me! Im like a freak that way, all my brain juice runs out my ass when some moron who doesnt know his multiplication tables points a gun at me and might accidentally pull the trigger because he thinks its his nose and hes trying to pick it!

– OK, OK, chill, chill!

He put the gun back on the dash.

– There, its down. Chill.

I chilled. Or I tried to chill. My ability to chill being seriously hampered. My sense of proportion, already in sorry shape before I first walked into a cockroach-filled apartment and started hauling little plastic bags of shit out of it, was fucked beyond recognition.

And I was having some very creepy thoughts.

Like…

What if none of this is real? I mean, does it seem real to you, Web? Have you ever had experiences like this? Has anyone you know had experiences like this? Does this not seem rather more like a bad screenplay L.L. might have brushed up in the ‘80s than like real life? Are you, perhaps, going a little more loony than you first suspected? Or, wait, how about this? Maybe youre not going crazy, maybe, wait for it, maybe youre dead? Get it? Like, you got hitby one of the bullets on the busi Like you died on the bus and all of this is like after-death experience, like your journey into the afterlife? Or maybe youre still alive, still on the bus? Like it all just happened, is happening, right now? What about that shit?

I shook my head.

– No. No way. Too weird.

Jaime shot me an eye.

– Say what?

– Nothing. Im cool. Im here. This is happening. I know this is happening. Im here. This is here and now. Im here.

– Dude, are you?

– Im fine. Im cool. So. You were saying, ten percent?

He tilted his head.

– OKaaaaaay. So, Mr. Scary Asshole, what Im saying is, I want it understood that if we bring them their can, with the almonds, Im not sacrificing my ten percent. Theyre the ones pulling out of the deal. I took the time and expense of arranging a buyer for their property and all that shit. Im not just walking away with nothing.

I finished taking the deep breaths that seemed to be doing very little to help calm me.

– Yes, but you will not be getting nothing. You will, in fact, be getting your sister.

– That wasnt the deal! I want my ten percent! And the real ten percent. Whatever you said that was.

– OK, fine. So how do we?

He picked up the gun.

– With this. Motherfuckers try to duck out without paying my due, Im taking action. So you know how I roll. Thats what Im saying. Respect, gotta have it.

That bit of dialogue coming straight from Boyz N the Hood if Im not mistaken.

I stared at the gun in his hand. I thought about how my brain might react to a sudden outbreak of gunfire. Another sudden outbreak of gunfire, I mean. I thought about how my body might react to a sudden outbreak of bullets hitting it. I thought about cops, and who would be screwed if I called them, and found I couldnt keep track of all the details. I thought about thinking about what I said next, but knew if I did I wouldnt be able to say what I said. If that makes sense. Which, of course, it does not.

– Ill cover it.

– Huh?

– The ten percent, Ill cover it.

– What? How?

– I can cover that. If they dont come through, and I kind of think we shouldnt even bring it up, Ill pay it.

He weighed the gun on his hand.

– Bullshit. You clean up after dead people. Where you gonna get twenty-two Gs?

I waited.

He shook his head.

– Twenty-six four! I mean twenty-six four! Were talking twenty-six four here.

– I can get it. I have savings and shit. I can cover it. Ill cover it. If they wont pay you, I will.

He looked me over, licked his lips.

– Know if youre fucking around what will happen, right?

– Youll cut me bad, is what Im thinking.

– At the least.

– Yeah, at the least.

He nodded.

– OK. OK. Deal. We give them the can no matter what.

– After they give us Soledad.

– Yeah, right, whatever.

I pointed at the gun.

– And you leave that behind when we meet them.

– Fuck that.

– Fine, fuck it. Forget the deal then. Go shoot it out. Get all the respect you want. Shit wears well in the grave.

– Maaan.

He set the gun on the dash.

– Shit. Fucking sister. Fucking Soledad.

I thought about Soledad.

Man, I liked that girl. A lot. And man it sucked that I was right and shed dragged me into this deal knowing there was a deal to be dragged into.

Shit. Id really thought… I dont even know what. But hey, she could have all kinds of reasons for being involved deeper than shed let on. She could just be trying to clean up a mess her dad left behind. Not like she was thinking clearly or anything. Girls dad commits suicide, shes all screwed up and… oh. Oh shit.

Suicide.

Criminal enterprise.

Violent suicide.

Moneymoneymoneymoneymoney

You see how long it takes me to put these things together? Thats because Im not as smart as I think I am. But you probably gathered that. Because youre probably not as stupid as I am. I know that because no one is as stupid as I am.