Part 36 (2/2)
”Whose heart was it?”
”It was a pig heart. I bought it at a butcher shop.”
DeChooch smiled. ”They put a pig heart back into Louie D and buried him?”
I nodded my head yes.
He started to chuckle. ”Then where's Louie D's real heart?”
”A dog ate it.”
DeChooch burst out laughing. He laughed until he had a coughing fit. When he got himself under control and he stopped coughing and laughing, he looked down at himself. ”Jeezus, I've got an erection.”
Men get erections at the strangest times.
”Look at it,” he said. ”Look at it! It's a beauty. It's hard as a rock.”
I looked over at it. It was a pretty decent erection.
”Who would have thought,” I said. ”Go figure.”
DeChooch was beaming. ”Guess I'm not so old after all.”
He's going to jail. He can't see. He can't hear. He can't take a leak that lasts under fifteen minutes. But he has an erection and all the other problems are small change. Next time around I'm coming back as a man. Priorities are so clearly defined. Life is so simple.
DeChooch's refrigerator caught my eye. ”Did you by any chance take a pot roast out of Dougie's freezer?”
”Yeah. At first I thought it was the heart. It was all wrapped up in plastic wrap and it was dark in the kitchen. But then I realized it was too big, and when I took a closer look I saw it was a pot roast. I figured they'd never miss it, and it might be nice to have a pot roast. Only I never got to cook it.”
”I hate to bring this up,” I said to DeChooch, ”but you should let me bring you in.”
”I can't do that,” DeChooch said. ”Think about it. How's it going to look . . . Eddie DeChooch brought in by a girl.”
”It happens all the time.”
”Not in my profession. I'd never live it down. I'd be disgraced. I'm a man. I need to be brought in by somebody tough, like Ranger.”
”No. Not Ranger. He's not available. He's not feeling good.”
”Well, that's what I want. I want Ranger. I'm not going if it's not Ranger.”
”I liked you better before you had an erection.”
DeChooch smiled. ”Yeah, I'm back in the saddle, chickie.”
”How about if you turn yourself in?”
”Guys like me don't turn themselves in. Maybe the young guys do. But my generation has rules. We have a code.” His gun had been lying on the table in front of him. He picked the gun up and chambered a round. ”Do you want to be responsible for my suicide?”
Oh brother.
There was a table lamp lit in the living room, and the overhead light had been switched on in the kitchen. The rest of the house was dark. DeChooch sat with his back to a doorway leading to the dark dining room. Like a ghost from horrors past, with only a slight rustle of clothing, Sophia appeared in the doorway. She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, and I thought she might truly be an apparition, a figment of my overactive imagination. She held a gun at waist level. She stared straight at me, aimed, and before I could react, she fired. POW POW!
DeChooch's gun flew from his hand, blood spurted from the side of his head, and he slumped to the floor.
Someone screamed. I think it was me.
Sophia laughed softly, her pupils shrunk to pinpoints. ”Surprised the two of you, didn't I? I've been watching through the window. You and Chooch, sitting here having cookies.”
I didn't say anything. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I'd stutter and dribble or maybe just make unintelligible guttural sounds.
”They put Louie into the ground today,” Sophia said. ”I couldn't be at graveside because of you. You ruined everything. You and Chooch. He's the one who started it all, and he's going to pay. I couldn't take care of him until I got the heart back, but now it's his time. An eye for an eye.” More soft laughter. ”And you're going to be the one to help me. You do a good enough job, maybe I'll let you go. Would you like that?”
I think I might have nodded, but I'm not sure. She would never let me go. We both knew that.
”An eye for an eye,” Sophia said. ”It's the word of G.o.d.”
My stomach sickened.
She smiled. ”I can see on your face that you know what must be done. It's the only way, isn't it. If we don't do this we'll be forever d.a.m.ned, forever shamed.”
”You need a doctor,” I whispered. ”You've been under a lot of stress. You're not thinking right.”
”What do you know about thinking right? Do you talk to G.o.d? Are you guided by His words?”
I stared at her, feeling my pulse pounding in my throat and at my temple.
”I talk to G.o.d,” she said. ”I do what He tells me to do. I am His instrument.”
”Well yeah, but G.o.d's a good guy,” I said. ”He wouldn't want you to do bad things.”
”I do what's right,” Sophia said. ”I cut evil out at its source. My soul is that of an avenging angel.”
”How do you know this?'
”G.o.d told me.”
A terrible new thought popped into my head. ”Did Louie know you talked to G.o.d? That you're G.o.d's instrument?”
Sophia froze.
”That room in the cellar . . . the cement room where you kept Mooner and Dougie. Did Louie ever lock you in that room?”
The gun was shaking in her hand, and her eyes glittered under the light. ”It's always difficult for the faithful. The martyrs. The saints. You're trying to distract me, but it won't work. I know what I must do. And you're going to help me now. I want you to get down on your knees and unb.u.t.ton his s.h.i.+rt.”
”No way!”
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