The Toronado glided easily over the
iron bridge into Queens. The pace of the street life picked up a bit,
the lights sped by, bodegas as colorful as they were filthy, trash
everywhere. They rode for a while and killed the bottle. Sadie was
feeling happy, but not so much as to worry. She knew what her cut-off
was and they hadn't even come close. The Toronado tended to work the
whole lane but was easy enough to keep on a generally straight course
regardless whatever was going on with the driver.
“Where we headed anyway?” she asked
“Flushing.” he said. “Hey let me
fill up the tank okay?”
“Sure.” she said, and found a
station a couple blocks later.
Billie Joe got out, located the gas
cap, got the pump turned on and managed to hand attendant some cash
all in pretty reasonable order. Sadie thought he held it together
pretty well, considering the joint and half a bottle of jack plus
whatever else he had downed before she picked him up. He locked the
handle on full blast and let her rip. Then he came back into the car
and grabbed the empty whisky bottle from the floor board. She heard
him take the nozzle out of the opening and looking over the seat saw
him kneel down behind the car for a minute. Then he stood back up and
looking around, finished off the tank. Her eyes narrowed. He got in,
and set the bottle, full now, back in the floorboard. It was wet and
smelled of gas.
“What the hell you doing?” she
asked
“Science experiment.” he said, and
smiled at her. “Trust me, it's gonna be fun.”
He guided her, turn by turn, through
the back end of Queens, the blocks getting progressively more
industrial, the Saturday night foot traffic thinning out
substantially. Finally they hit a massive chain link fence that
seemed to go on forever. Tall lights were blazoning by the front gate
which was covered in blue NYPD signs dictating all manner of
instruction.
“Quick go right.” he said.
She turned before the gate and went on
along down one side of the massive yard. Inside were all manner of
vehicles. There were massive lights spread throughout the yard. Lines
of cars spilled into lines of trucks which faded into lines of
motorcycles.
“Okay, slow up.” he said
“Riight.... here.” She stopped.
He leaned over the bench seat and
produced a dirty old t-shirt from the duffle bag. He grabbed the
bottle and opened the door. “Hold up here okay. Just ten minutes.
If I ain't back in twenty, haul ass and hock my gear.”
The black woman regarded him, pale
orange light coming through the windshield made her face glow. She
about had the situation figured, but asked anyway.
“And what is it we're doing here?”
“Crime.” he laughed “Hell what
did you think?” Then he was gone into the shadows.
Billie Joe ran at a crouch up to the
fence, the bottle of gasoline under one arm. He felt around left and
right, just above ground level, then, locating the rift he was
searching for, climbed inside.
He guessed the dogs would be up near
the front of the yard, if they were even out of their cages yet. It
was still early. His head looked back and forth, searching,
searching, and he crept fast and low, til finally he saw her.
He had wrenched this bike together over
the course of a summer, cannibalizing parts from at least three
other motorcycles, including the frame of one belonging to his dead
father. He walked up fast and trying to not begin taking in all the
lines and details, began emptying the bottle all over his machine.
“Sorry, girl,” he whispered, “but
if I can't have you, ain't nobody gonna have you.”
He produced matches from his jacket pocket and lit her
up.
Sadie, back at the car, glanced again
at the clock on the dash, thinking she should have offered to hold on
to his bank roll too. She had begun to grow tired of the particular
graffitti on this part of the yard. Suddenly the door opened and
Billie Joe slid in, out of breath.
“Okay, we're good. Let's go.” he
said
It was then that Sadie noticed the
rising light of the blaze, even though she couldn't see it, coming
from Billie Joe's burning chopper. The yard started to light up with
that unmistakeable color that accompanies a good size fire, shadows
rising and flitting, running wild across the other bikes and cars.
Neither Billie Joe nor Sadie said anything as they drove away slowly,
the sound of dogs barking far behind them.
