Part 19 (1/2)
”Come, Gabby,” Raymond's mother said, starting toward the car, already losing interest in Bobby.
Gabriela followed her mother, then stopped and turned. ”That was your saxophone, your car, wasn't it?”
Bobby stood mute, realizing she knew everything, watching her dig in her purse for a pen and a slip of paper. She scribbled quickly and pressed the paper in his hand. ”Call me,” she said. Then was gone.
Bobby waited for the mourners to clear out. He saw one group of three guys pause at his car and stare, then look over at him, before they got in a black Chevrolet and drove off.
The next morning Bobby dialed the number. ”Barnes and n.o.ble,” a voice said. ”How can I help you?”
Bobby thought it had been a home number she'd given him but quickly realized she wouldn't have done that.
”Can I speak to Gabriela Morales, please?”
”Let me see if she's in,” the voice said.
Bobby was suddenly listening to canned music as he was put on hold. It sounded like Dave Koz or David Sanborn, one of those R & B saxes, vamping relentlessly over the same tired chords.
”h.e.l.lo?”
”Miss Morales? This is Bobby Ware.”
”I guess you want to talk to me.”
”Well, if it's not convenient I can ...”
”I have a lunch break at 12:30. There's a coffee place here in the store. We can meet there. This is the big one, on Ventura Boulevard.”
”Yeah, okay, that would be fine,” Bobby said.
After a pause she said, ”This is strange.”
”Yes it is.”
He got there early and took a cup of coffee to an outside table so he could smoke. Gabriela appeared a few minutes later.
”Oh, there you are,” she said. She was dressed in dark slacks and a white blouse with a plastic B&N name tag pinned to her blouse. Her hair was raven black and framed her face. Very pretty Very pretty, Bobby thought as he stood up.
She put her hand on his shoulder. ”No, don't get up. I'm just going to grab a sandwich. I'll be right back.”
She came back quickly and sat opposite Bobby with a sandwich on a plate and a bottle of water. ”Sorry,” she said. ”I'm on till 6. If I don't eat now, well ...”
”No problem,” Bobby said.
She took small bites of the sandwich and studied him. ”You don't remember my brother at all, do you?”
”No,” Bobby said. ”I'm sorry ... about what happened.”
She nodded and looked down. ”He had a lot of problems and it's not so uncommon. Raymond was lost a long time ago,” she said, finis.h.i.+ng her sandwich. Gabriela looked at Bobby's cigarettes on the table. ”Can I have one of those?”
”Sure,” Bobby said, offering her one. He lit it for her and watched her take a deep drag and cough a little.
”Wow, it's been awhile. I quit about a year ago.”
”Yeah, I've quit a couple of times myself.”
”I had quite a crush on you,” she said, ”after I saw you play at the a.s.sembly. I used to see you in the halls, by your locker, and I started going to the games to see you in the marching band.”
”That was a long time ago.” Bobby looked away, thinking of the early morning practices, the drilling, the music.
”You still play, right?”
”Yes, I'm working a gig not far from here on weekends.”
”That's good. You were talented.” She paused. ”I remember Raymond wanting to be in the band but it wasn't cool, you know that macho s.h.i.+t, so he never pursued it. Maybe if he had he would ...” Her voice trailed off.
”Look,” Bobby said, ”I don't want to bother you, I just, I don't know, it's been bothering me. I just had to-”
”See who Raymond was?”
”Yeah, I guess. Since I got the car back, I keep having these visions.”
”And there's the horn.”
”Well, yes, that too.”
She nodded. ”I have it in my car. Raymond came home that day, said he'd borrowed the car from a friend. I knew he was lying, but he brought the horn in the house, didn't want anything to happen to it.”
”You're kidding.”
”No, I think he still thought about playing.” She stubbed out her cigarette and glanced at her watch. ”I've got to get back to work. C'mon.”
He followed her to the parking lot. She opened the trunk of her car. Bobby looked inside and saw the case. He flipped the latches and lifted the lid, and it was like seeing an old friend. He shut the case and took it out of the trunk.
”Thanks, thank you very much.”
”Where's your car?”
Bobby hesitated. ”Oh, a couple of rows over but you probably need to go and-”
”I want to see it.”
They walked over to his car. Bobby unlocked the door and put his horn in the back.
”Do you mind?” She looked inside.