Part 8 (2/2)
”Yeah,” Solly told him. ”Guys like us, we got no choice, do we?”
He slipped the old guy a bill.
”Get in,” he told me.
There was no door handle, so I pushed the b.u.t.ton where it should have been, and the door opened. From the outside, the car gleamed like it had been dipped in a pool of black ink. Inside, it looked new. Solly pulled away, slow and smooth. I couldn't hear the engine.
”What the h.e.l.l is is this?” I couldn't help asking him. this?” I couldn't help asking him.
”Putz,” he said. ”You never heard of the Lincoln Continental?”
”Sure. But...”
”Not a a Lincoln Continental, Sugar; Lincoln Continental, Sugar; the the Lincoln Continental. You know how they have them all with numbers, like the Mark III or the Mark IV, like that?” Lincoln Continental. You know how they have them all with numbers, like the Mark III or the Mark IV, like that?”
”I guess so.”
”This one's got no number. Know why? Because this is the first of the line. If they had a Mark I, that's what this would be. Back when this was new, they built cars to last, not like the c.r.a.p they make today.”
”They were all like this?”
”Don't be a clown, kiddo. A Chevy's always been a Chevy; a Ford's always been a Ford. But this baby never saw an a.s.sembly line; it was hand-built. Not just top-of-the-line, top of them all all.”
”I'm not surprised it lasted this long-feels like we're in a d.a.m.n tank.”
”A tank with plenty of pep. Not that you want to go racing around in a car like this. That would be...Well, it would just be wrong.”
”I don't get it. The whole car thing, I don't get any of that.”
”It's not the car; it's what it means. Me, I wanted one of these from the minute I first saw one, a couple of years after the war. A car like this, it sets you apart.”
”From who?”
”From everyone everyone. I don't care if you're a young shvartser shvartser in Harlem or an in Harlem or an alter k.o.c.ker alter k.o.c.ker in Miami, your idea of heaven is still a Cadillac. But next to in Miami, your idea of heaven is still a Cadillac. But next to this this beauty, a Caddy's a piece of s.h.i.+t. Back when we were kicking the c.r.a.p out of the krauts, this was the best car on the planet.” beauty, a Caddy's a piece of s.h.i.+t. Back when we were kicking the c.r.a.p out of the krauts, this was the best car on the planet.”
”You were in that?”
”You think I'm, what, a Zen Buddhist? Back then, a Jewish boy, he couldn't walk the streets unless he was home on leave. Better be in uniform, too. Otherwise, the old ladies, they'd spit on you. And the young ones-forget it.
”Don't get me wrong, that was one job I couldn't wait wait to get in on. Look at me now, you wouldn't believe it, but back then I was a lion. The only thing I ever worried about was getting sent to the Pacific Theater.” to get in on. Look at me now, you wouldn't believe it, but back then I was a lion. The only thing I ever worried about was getting sent to the Pacific Theater.”
”That was extra bad?”
”It was all bad, kid. But how was I gonna get to kill any n.a.z.is over there?”
”You wanted to kill them?”
”I wanted to kill all all of them. I just wish the a.s.sholes who ran the government had dropped that big one on Berlin, too.” of them. I just wish the a.s.sholes who ran the government had dropped that big one on Berlin, too.”
”The atom bomb, right? You mean, they only had the one?”
Solly slapped himself on his forehead. ”Who am I talking to? We had lots lots of them, Sugar. You think we only hit j.a.pan one time?” of them, Sugar. You think we only hit j.a.pan one time?”
”Well, if they had so many-”
”They weren't gonna drop nukes on white people, kid. Simple as that. I don't know how it was out west back then. But here, the Germans had their own part of town. First Avenue in the low nineties. They even called it 'Germantown.' Before the war, they had a lot of pull in this city, so you have to figure, they had it other places, too. But it still comes down to the same thing. You can't tell a German from a Swede just by looking at them, but you can spot a j.a.p at a hundred yards.”
”Yeah, I get it.”
”Nah. It's a lot more complicated than that. But let me ask you you a question, okay? Tell the truth: you really give a rat's a.s.s about anything that happened way before you were born?” a question, okay? Tell the truth: you really give a rat's a.s.s about anything that happened way before you were born?”
”I guess not.”
I watched him drive, working the column s.h.i.+fter like one of those guys who can type with their eyes closed. It was all so smooth. Not just the ride, with the big car swallowing all the b.u.mps in the road; Solly, he was smooth, too.
”Isn't this thing a little-?”
”What? Distinctive? Sure it is! What, I'm gonna use it on a bank job? Besides, people need to see what real real cla.s.s is every once in a while.” cla.s.s is every once in a while.”
”It's...really something.”
”Just like new,” Solly said. ”Better, actually. Things like tires, they don't make 'em like they used to...and that's a good good thing.” thing.”
Nearly five o'clock in the morning, and people were still staring at the car every time we stopped at a light. One time, it was a big black one like Solly's, only it was one of those SUVs. It was painted a different kind of black from Solly's. Even the windows were black.
Somebody stuck a cell phone out the window. It was on Solly's side, so I slumped in the seat, looked down. The SUV was playing some noise, sounded like an elephant stampede. Same stuff they play over the speakers at Rikers. That was another good thing about being sent way Upstate.
Neon ribbons inside the SUV kept changing colors. The wheels were black, but the centers were gold; they kept spinning even with the wheels stopped.
”Solly...”
”I see him, kid. Just taking pictures with his cell phone. Every place I go with this car, they do that.”
”What about your license plate?”
”I should care?” Solly said. ”This beauty, she's as legit as it gets. Those kind”-tilting his head in the direction of the fancy black SUV-”they don't know how to act.”
We just kept driving. A long loop around the city, like old men taking a stroll in the park. Solly stayed in the right-hand lane on First, timing it so we rolled through on green. Way downtown, he caught a yellow light. Solly eased the big car to a stop, being real careful.
Looking straight ahead, he asked me, ”Is that place still open?”
I didn't know what place he meant, but as I turned to look out my window, a flash went off. By the time I got done blinking, Solly had the green and we took off.
”I saw it,” he said, like he knew what I was thinking. ”Just one of those 'artiste' dips.h.i.+ts running around with a camera. Probably wants to catch the sun coming up over the East River or something like that.”
”You sure?”
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