hammered down into his wide shoulders and a barrel chest that stretched the buttons of his patterned shirt. He said, “So?”
By way of answer, the visitor reached into his shorts and produced the ignition key for the speedboat. The short man raised a hand and he tossed the key to him.
“Ya have the class to gas it up at least?”
“To the brim,” the big man said.
“It’s clean?”
“Washed and buffed at the gas dock. Those spicks are pretty good.” There was a brief silence, then he added, “Don’t worry, no problem, everything went fine. Just a little something I had to do.”
The short man stopped him with a gesture. “Don’t tell me how it went. Don’t tell me where you went. Don’t tell me what you did. It’s got nothing to do with me. You asked me to loan you the boat, I loaned you the boat. I did you a favor. There’s any headaches, I report it stolen and it’s your ass that’s in a sling.”
“I get it. That’s the deal.”
“And inna meantime, you owe me. Don’t forget that. Don’t make me remind you.”
He ended the meeting by looking away. That was all it took, just a shift in his glance. The big man left, discreetly kicking at his too-tight shorts as he walked.
12.
Jake, wrung out, had slept an hour in the middle of the day. When he woke up he decided to have a swim. He wasn’t much of a swimmer but suddenly he felt like doing a few laps. He realized only dimly that this was a sort of mute
homage
to Donna. Going native, he didn’t bother with a bathing suit, just draped a towel around himself and headed outside.
Bryce was cleaning the pool when he got there. He was cleaning it with exquisite slowness. Actually, at the moment Jake first noticed him, he wasn’t cleaning it at all, just standing on the tile apron, barefoot in his red sarong, holding the skimmer very still and at an angle from his body as though he was about to begin his approach to a pole vault. His eyes were dreamily focused on something in the water, a leaf that had wandered to the very edge of the tiny whirlpool created by the filter. It didn’t quite get sucked in; it couldn’t quite escape the pull. It inched away, spun, backslid, and then the little drama started all over. Bryce watched it for quite a while, wondered how long the suspense could possibly go on, what it would take to break the stalemate. Then he noticed Jake.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “You want to go in?”
“I’ll wait,” Jake said. “No hurry. Finish what you’re doing.”
Rather wearily, Bryce said, “No, it’s okay, I’ve done enough for now. I’ll finish later. Go ‘head, have your swim.”
Jake felt suddenly bashful; New Yorkers, crammed in among eight million strangers, tended not to go naked, after all. Deferring the moment when he would drop his towel, he said, “You enjoy your swim yesterday?”
“Hmm?”
“That guy who threw you in the pool. I didn’t see it but I heard the splash. Fun and games?”
Bryce shook his head with more sorrow than anger. “Oh, that guy. What a jerk. Donna’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Joey said she dumped him a month ago.”
“Okay, old boyfriend. Good riddance. Talk about a toxic relationship. This was radioactive. Passionate, I guess, but really messy. I used to hear them arguing all the time.”
Jake finally tossed away the towel and waded in. When he was solar plexus deep, his elbows held out like the wings of a chicken, Bryce continued, “Not that I was eavesdropping or anything. It’s just that when the pool pump isn’t running I hear everything. I’d hear them arguing, fucking, throwing things. Sometimes all at the same time.”
Surprised at his own curiosity, Jake said, “So what did they argue about?”
Bryce shrugged. “Name it. Money. Jealousy. Who was flirting with who in some bar. Mostly her career, though. Just a lot of back-and-forth.”
“Her career?”
Bryce laid the skimmer on the tiles and sat down on a lounge. A subtle but surprising change came
By way of answer, the visitor reached into his shorts and produced the ignition key for the speedboat. The short man raised a hand and he tossed the key to him.
“Ya have the class to gas it up at least?”
“To the brim,” the big man said.
“It’s clean?”
“Washed and buffed at the gas dock. Those spicks are pretty good.” There was a brief silence, then he added, “Don’t worry, no problem, everything went fine. Just a little something I had to do.”
The short man stopped him with a gesture. “Don’t tell me how it went. Don’t tell me where you went. Don’t tell me what you did. It’s got nothing to do with me. You asked me to loan you the boat, I loaned you the boat. I did you a favor. There’s any headaches, I report it stolen and it’s your ass that’s in a sling.”
“I get it. That’s the deal.”
“And inna meantime, you owe me. Don’t forget that. Don’t make me remind you.”
He ended the meeting by looking away. That was all it took, just a shift in his glance. The big man left, discreetly kicking at his too-tight shorts as he walked.
12.
Jake, wrung out, had slept an hour in the middle of the day. When he woke up he decided to have a swim. He wasn’t much of a swimmer but suddenly he felt like doing a few laps. He realized only dimly that this was a sort of mute
homage
to Donna. Going native, he didn’t bother with a bathing suit, just draped a towel around himself and headed outside.
Bryce was cleaning the pool when he got there. He was cleaning it with exquisite slowness. Actually, at the moment Jake first noticed him, he wasn’t cleaning it at all, just standing on the tile apron, barefoot in his red sarong, holding the skimmer very still and at an angle from his body as though he was about to begin his approach to a pole vault. His eyes were dreamily focused on something in the water, a leaf that had wandered to the very edge of the tiny whirlpool created by the filter. It didn’t quite get sucked in; it couldn’t quite escape the pull. It inched away, spun, backslid, and then the little drama started all over. Bryce watched it for quite a while, wondered how long the suspense could possibly go on, what it would take to break the stalemate. Then he noticed Jake.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “You want to go in?”
“I’ll wait,” Jake said. “No hurry. Finish what you’re doing.”
Rather wearily, Bryce said, “No, it’s okay, I’ve done enough for now. I’ll finish later. Go ‘head, have your swim.”
Jake felt suddenly bashful; New Yorkers, crammed in among eight million strangers, tended not to go naked, after all. Deferring the moment when he would drop his towel, he said, “You enjoy your swim yesterday?”
“Hmm?”
“That guy who threw you in the pool. I didn’t see it but I heard the splash. Fun and games?”
Bryce shook his head with more sorrow than anger. “Oh, that guy. What a jerk. Donna’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Joey said she dumped him a month ago.”
“Okay, old boyfriend. Good riddance. Talk about a toxic relationship. This was radioactive. Passionate, I guess, but really messy. I used to hear them arguing all the time.”
Jake finally tossed away the towel and waded in. When he was solar plexus deep, his elbows held out like the wings of a chicken, Bryce continued, “Not that I was eavesdropping or anything. It’s just that when the pool pump isn’t running I hear everything. I’d hear them arguing, fucking, throwing things. Sometimes all at the same time.”
Surprised at his own curiosity, Jake said, “So what did they argue about?”
Bryce shrugged. “Name it. Money. Jealousy. Who was flirting with who in some bar. Mostly her career, though. Just a lot of back-and-forth.”
“Her career?”
Bryce laid the skimmer on the tiles and sat down on a lounge. A subtle but surprising change came
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