Part 37 (1/2)
”You must have a plan,” said Stefanos.
”A plan?”
”How's it going to work?”
”Thomas Wilson is going to bring them to me.”
”Don't count on it. Wilson's weak.”
”He's strong enough.”
”I don't think so.”
”Think what you want. He asked me for another chance, and I'm going to give it to him. He'll do fine.”
Stefanos rubbed his thumb along his lower lip. ”You going to tell the waiter's father? How about Stephanie Maroulis?”
”I'm not going to tell either one of them a thing. Bernie's found his peace and so has Stephanie. This is for them, too, but they'll never know. And I'm trusting you to keep it from Bill Jonas - and Boyle. I don't want to have a thing to do with Boyle.”
”You're not going to make it,” said Stefanos. ”These guys will kill you before you have a chance. You're going to die and get Wilson killed, too, and for what? I'm telling you, man, this idea of yours is bulls.h.i.+t. It's f.u.c.ked.”
”All right, you've said it. Now leave it alone. You've got nothing to do with it, hear?”
”We've got too much history between us for me to leave it alone.”
”You heard Boyle's uncle. Your grandfather gave my old man a job when he was a washed-up cripple. My old man stopped those loan sharks from burning down your grandfather's grill. I'd say our slate is clean. We owe each other nothing.”
”You're drunk,” said Stefanos, looking into Karras's waxed eyes. ”Yeah, I'm drunk.” Karras had a swig of beer, keeping his eyes on Stefanos.
”You better pray to G.o.d that you know what you're doing.”
”G.o.d,” said Karras with contempt. ”Now you're going to tell me you believe in G.o.d.”
”I'm like most men, I guess - that is, if they're honest enough to admit it. I believe some days and some days I'm not so sure. The truth is, I'm just trying to figure it all out.”
”There's nothing to figure out. G.o.d was invented for children and old people who are frightened to die.”
”The night I killed that man I thought the same thing. That there was no G.o.d. But look around you. There's too much good in the world, man -”
”Good? What about slavery? What about the Holocaust and Pol Pot? The Armenian slaughter. The young men who've been killed throughout history fighting wars in the name of G.o.d. The children who've died in this city in the last ten years. What kind of G.o.d would allow these things to happen?”
”I don't know.”
Karras leaned forward. ”What did my son do to G.o.d? Why did he take my little boy the way he did?”
”I don't know,” said Stefanos softly.
”That's right, you don't know. But I I know. The answer is, There is no G.o.d. Everything's just an accident. And when it's over there's nothing. No existence and no sensation. Nothing at all.” know. The answer is, There is no G.o.d. Everything's just an accident. And when it's over there's nothing. No existence and no sensation. Nothing at all.”
Stefanos shook a cigarette from his pack. He put it between his lips and struck a match. ”I'm sorry for you, Dimitri.”
”Sorry,” said Karras. ”I'm sorry, too. You know what I'm most sorry about? That I lied to my son about G.o.d. That's right. We were down at Hanes Point in the spring; I think Jimmy was four years old. We were walking around the speedway, and Jimmy said, 'Dad, how come you can't see G.o.d?' I said to him, 'People can't see G.o.d, Jimmy, they can only imagine him.' And Jimmy said, 'When you're dead can you see him?' And I said yes. Jimmy looked out at the channel and thought for a while, and then he made this flip of his hand and said, 'Aw, gimme a break!' ”
Karras laughed sharply, thinking of his son. He pictured him in the sun at Hanes Point, the skip he put into his walk when he was happy, that flip of his hand, his dimpled smile. While Karras laughed, tears gathered in his eyes. The tears broke and rolled down his cheeks.
Stefanos handed him a bev nap and looked away. ”Here you go, man.”
Karras wiped at a thread of mucus that had dripped from his nose. He wiped the tears off his face.
”I was like you,” said Karras, his voice desperate and strained. ”I thought there might be a G.o.d. I hoped hoped there was a G.o.d because I couldn't believe that death would ever separate me from Jimmy and Lisa. I mean, if you believe that death can do that, then nothing makes sense, right? But when I saw Jimmy in the morgue that day -” there was a G.o.d because I couldn't believe that death would ever separate me from Jimmy and Lisa. I mean, if you believe that death can do that, then nothing makes sense, right? But when I saw Jimmy in the morgue that day -”
”Dimitri.”
”When I saw him in the morgue, Nick, Nick, lying there... his body was black all over from the bleeding he'd done inside, and his arms and legs were bent crazy and broken in pieces beneath the skin.... His face was so swollen, man. I knew then that there was no G.o.d. I'd known it all along, I guess, in my heart. I shouldn't have lied to my son.” lying there... his body was black all over from the bleeding he'd done inside, and his arms and legs were bent crazy and broken in pieces beneath the skin.... His face was so swollen, man. I knew then that there was no G.o.d. I'd known it all along, I guess, in my heart. I shouldn't have lied to my son.”
”Dimitri, man. Don't.”
Karras's mouth twitched up into a frightening smile. ”He was wearing a rabbit's foot that day, Nick. I had given it to him, and I told him to clip it to his shorts. I told him it would bring him luck. Told him it would be lucky if he wore that rabbit's foot on his shorts...”
Stefanos smoked the rest of his cigarette while Karras cried. Karras cried freely for a while, and then he wiped his face and got off the bar stool. He tripped on the way to the bathroom and grabbed a chair for support.
Stefanos made a pot of coffee. He heard Karras vomiting back in the bathroom. He waited for some time and went back to the bathroom and found Karras was.h.i.+ng his face over the sink. There was puke on the collar of his s.h.i.+rt, and his face was the color of putty.
”How do you take your coffee?” said Stefanos.
”I take it black.”
The coffee was steaming in a mug when Karras returned. He drank it down and had another while Stefanos restocked the beer cooler and replaced the green netting along the lip of the bar.
Stefanos dimmed the conicals. The neon Schlitz logo burned over the center of the bar and bathed the room in blue.
”You about ready?” said Stefanos.
”Yeah,” said Karras, who had gotten the color back in his face. ”Let's go.”
They walked to Stefanos's Dodge. Stefanos stumbled as he stepped off the curb. He reached into his pocket and handed his keys to Karras.
”Here you go, Dimitri. I'm too ga.s.sed.”
Karras got behind the wheel, fastened his seat belt, and ignitioned the Coronet. He engaged the transmission and drove down 8th toward Pennsylvania. They had been in the bar for hours. The streets were empty and dark.
”You can't stop me,” said Karras. ”I want you to know that.”
”I do know it,” said Stefanos. ”But I had to try.”
THIRTY-SIX.