You who enter here, p.17
You Who Enter Here, page 17
After Rudolph left, Matthew went and sat on his bed with the lights off, sipping on a bottle and trying to convince himself to not get too fucked up. He was about to hit the streets. The door opened. It was Maria. She smiled at him gently and locked the door behind her before she made her way to him. Maria and he still had time to be alone, at the Railyards sometimes, when they knew Chris was going to be away, but she was gone so much now, and sometimes for days at a time, that he felt lucky and glad when he did see her, when they had a moment together.
He looked at her and wondered. She looked strange, nearly eerily beautiful. She had that ethereal quality to her like when she was high, and it was at those times, sad as it made him to see her like that, it was as if she was made of light. He pushed that thought away. No. There was too much at stake now, and she loved him, and she wanted them to get out. There was going to be a shipment, and Maria told him that the cops said they were going to get wired, and they were going to get out, go somewhere. She said the cops had talked about Washington. About Seattle. He liked this idea, liked the idea of sitting in a small apartment somewhere in a little bed, Maria’s long brown body at his side, listening to the rain hitting the roof. She slipped into his bed, and he pulled his arm into a curve so she could fall into it like a pillow and they lay there silently, peacefully. He wondered if she and Chris still had sex. He hoped not. He couldn’t bear the thought.
Matthew ran his hands down her arms, appreciating her soft brown skin. Maria sighed. He leaned into her, curling like a baby, and she pet his head, ran her hands through his hair, which had grown out halfway to his shoulders.
“I like your hair,” she said.
“I like yours,” he answered, and she laughed softly.
“I always thought it was stupid that Chris wanted everyone to have a shaved head. He hates the Mexican gangbangers so much, but he’s always copying them. Stupid,” she said, repeating herself.
They were silent for a moment, petting one another, and Matthew thought about how wonderful this felt, with her. This magic in her skin.
“How long do you think Chris will be gone for?” he asked.
“I’m sure a few hours. He’s out west on a drop-off. Even if you and me weren’t gonna get wired up and get that bastard caught, there’s no way this could continue without another shipment.”
“Yeah,” Matthew said, “we’re nearly dry.”
“Matthew began to remove her clothes, kiss her. He stopped. “You guys don’t—”
“What? Fuck? No.”
Matthew felt reassured. “We should be quick though. I don’t want to fuck this up by letting him catch us, not now, when we’re finally so close to getting out.”
“Like he’d care,” she said.
This struck Matthew as strange. Chris was possessive, and Maria always said that she didn’t love him. But he dismissed it, and they came at the same time, and it was quiet, and deep, and good. They lay together after, Matthew lighting a cigarette and passing it to Maria, the slight sting in his throat reassuring.
“It was weird that Math didn’t want to live here,” Maria said.
“Fuck that guy,” Matthew said, “he’s just like Chris.”
“Yeah. Well, not exactly. He’s smarter. And more fucked up. The way he treats the dogs,” she said, shuddering and sitting up. She tapped her cigarette on the small yellow glass ashtray on the end table by the bed.
Matthew felt a small surge of jealousy. “Let’s not talk about him.”
Maria was silent then, and a few minutes later, Matthew could tell she’d fallen asleep. He watched Maria sleep, and she seemed peaceful, like a child. He thought again about the fact that someday she would die, and he hated the thought of it. He accepted his own death, but hers was painful to contemplate. He couldn’t wait until they were far away from the 505s, from Chris, from all of this, somewhere green, lush. That’s the way he pictured Seattle. But he worried too that somehow they would fuck it up. That eventually, he would have to start drinking hard again, and she would get on H again. That was why they loved each other so much, the fact that they were the same in this way. Matthew pictured spiders, big, black spiders living in their hearts, eating away at them. He pictured a big pair of pliers trying to pluck them out. He worried that as soon as the spiders were taken, that they would die, that they had been born with those spiders, that they had put their roots in them, like in that movie Alien, and that if they tried to remove them, it would be like trying to remove themselves. They were the spiders. Matthew drifted, fell asleep. Dreamed of death and spiders. Maria woke him.
“You were jerking. And talking,” she said, and he blinked rapidly, trying to move the images away, out. They were like remembering that you’d eaten darkness. And you didn’t even know why.
“Sorry,” he said, sitting up.
She sat up too.
“What time is it?” he asked, and then reached for his phone. “Oh, man. I gotta go.” He pulled his T-shirt on, and after locating his white sneakers—one nearly under the bed and the other under a pile of clothes in the corner—pushed his feet into them. Maria watched him and sighed.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me.”
She ran her hands through her hair, which was looking like it hadn’t been washed in a few days, though it was still beautiful, long and black with hues of red peeking through here and there. Sometimes it would catch the light, and Matthew would wonder at it.
“I don’t want to bring Math up again, but …” she said, folding her legs under her and looking out the window and then back at him. She frowned, waiting to see what he would say.
“But …”
“But I don’t trust him. He’s up to something.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. And I don’t want him fucking things up for us,” she said, lighting another cigarette.
“What do you know?”
“That he’s gone a lot. That he got money he shouldn’t. I mean, like, look at those new glasses he just appeared with the other day. And I know people that he knows, people that connect you to large shipments of H.”
“You think he’s with the Zias? He gonna rat us out or something? Ruin the next shipment?”
Maria sighed deeply, pulled her legs out from underneath her and inhaled. “I don’t know. All I’m saying is there’s a reason, and … not just me, that he decided not to live in this house. I think he’s setting his own shit up, and that if Chris finds out, shit is gonna go down. That’s all I’m saying.”
Matthew sighed. This could not happen. Not if they wanted to get what they needed from the cops. It would mess everything up. “Why does shit always have to go wrong?” he asked rhetorically, and Maria laughed, took another drag, the smoke curling around her head.
“ ’Cause humans are in charge of shit,” she said.
Matthew laughed. “Well, they shouldn’t be.”
“I know baby,” she said, putting her cigarette in the ashtray and standing up. She pulled her pants on, her red T-shirt, her sandals.
He opened the door, looked out. No one was around. Not that they had many people left. Only two other homies, Damien, who had survived, and another they had somehow managed to recruit.
Maria pulled him back in and kissed him, deeply, and he put his arms around her and felt good.
“I wish this wasn’t our life,” he said. “I wish we were already in another life.”
She looked into his eyes and smiled, “I wish we were birds.”
“Yeah. And we’d go around shitting on people’s heads,” he said, and she laughed.
“Romantic,” she said.
They walked out together, Matthew not asking her about where she was going, Maria waving as she got into her car, an old black Honda that Chris had gotten for her years ago, that for some reason, with all of her love of fancy things, she had never gotten rid of.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, but she was already closing the door. He closed his. Thought about Math. He knew what he had to do. He had to find him, find out what he was up to. As much as a part of him wanted Math and Chris to take each other out, Matthew also knew that if shit went down between them now, his chance for making that next shipment was over. The first thing he was going to do was his drop-off at the Railyards. Then call Math.
At the Railyards, after he’d done the drop-off, he stood around, drinking, thinking about all of the times he and Maria had laid in here, talked, had sex, read to one another, laughed. He thought about her impressions of Chris, how at first he’d felt badly about even watching her do them, and then how after a while, he’d joined in. He shook his head, wiped his mouth, and looked at his phone. He dialed Math. It went almost immediately to voicemail. He dialed again, same thing. Took a breath, cracked a beer open, just one, and finished it in one long glug. He threw the can into the darkness and listened to the tin clink on something as he walked out. He got in his car. He knew where Math lived.
As he drove, he thought about why Math pissed him off so much. A lot of it was because he was so much like Chris. And the thing was, he hated Chris, but there was a way in which he still had some kind of affection leftover for him. He still wanted to believe Chris had loved him, was only a guy who dreamed big, who wanted to be important, wanted everyone he’d grown up with to see him as a hero. He was a guy who’d grown up with Biggie and Tupac blasting on the TV. So maybe hating Math was a way of hating the part of Chris that had made him feel betrayed, unloved. Also, he wanted to stop any more chaos, as the 505s were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. He knew that if Math was up to what Maria thought he was up to, when Chris found out, it would be trouble, and that shipment would not happen. Goddamnit, if he could just get to that shipment, he knew everything would be OK. He sighed heavily. He also hated him for sleeping with Maria. And he knew why he’d done it. Because he wanted whatever Chris had. And then there was the way he treated the dogs. Matthew had seen him kicking them, a look of pleasure in his eyes when he did it. Matthew had told him to stop, and though he had, he could tell that as soon as he was out of sight, Math would do it again. And the dog fights. Those were wrong. Math told Chris he did them for money, and it was true that it brought in extra cash, but Matthew knew he did it because he liked to watch innocent things get hurt, die. He shook his head. He was coming up on the last turn.
He pulled up with his lights dimmed and parked not far from Math’s house. He rolled his windows down. He could see the lights on, and there was music blasting. Some kind of new rap that Matthew didn’t know. He laid low for a while, resisted the urge to pull another beer out of the back of his SUV. He wanted to stay as focused as he could. After a while, a couple of guys came out, Math following. Matthew narrowed his eyes at Math’s new big, black chunky glasses. They looked expensive. Like one of those rap star brands. Matthew slunk down low and listened. They had turned the music down.
“Yo, so you know where you can get this shit now, right? You get it from me, direct.”
“Damn straight, homes,” one of the guys was saying. He was a tall dude. Looked like he might be part black.
“I’m telling you,” he said, “those white kids are begging for H. Just begging for it. And you got the good shit.”
“That’s right I do. I’ve got my own connections now. Fuck the 505s. I knew that was going to happen. I prepared.”
They exchanged elaborate handshakes, threw up some signs, and the guy Matthew thought might be part black and his friend, a skinny Mexican guy, got in their car, a beater of a Pontiac, and drove off. Matthew couldn’t believe it had been so easy. Maria had been right about that fucker. She’d known all along. That gave him pause, how clearly she’d known, but then he thought about how smart Maria was, how observant, and he felt a surge of love for her.
Matthew knew what to do. He laid low for a little while longer, making sure that Math wasn’t doing any more deals. He also wanted to make sure Math was alone. He got out, walked up, knocked.
Math opened the door, looking surprised. “What’s up homes?” he asked, and Matthew pushed past him quickly and into the house.
“Surprised—” Math said, but Matthew shut the door in one motion and swung with the next. Math hit the floor.
“What the fuck,” he said, and Matthew kicked him, hard. That was the thing about Matthew. He was wiry, but he’d always been strong and quick.
“Shut up! You know what the fuck!”
“Naw, man, I don’t know what’s up! What the fuck is going on here?” he said, wiping blood from his mouth. Matthew pulled his leg back and Math simultaneously curled into himself while trying to scoot away.
“You tell the fucking truth or I’m going to fucking kill you,” Matthew said quietly.
“Damn. Someone’s been telling lies about me, homes, I swear—” he said, and Matthew kicked again, hard. Math groaned.
“Now are you ready to tell me the truth, you lying little fucker?”
“OK. What. …?”
Matthew pulled his fist back. “Tell me that you’re starting shit on the side.”
“OK, OK, damn, don’t hit me again,” Math said, crawling over to the red futon and pulling himself up on it. “Damnit, I’ll tell you everything, just don’t hit me again.”
Matthew was silent. He watched Math with his arms crossed over his chest expectantly.
“You mind if I light a cigarette?” Math asked, and Matthew shrugged.
Math got his pack from the end table, groaning as he reached for it. He started to pull a lighter out of his pocket, when Matthew yelled at him to stop. Math paused. Matthew pulled his gun out of the back of his pants and aimed it right at Math’s head. “If that’s not a lighter, I’ll put you out before you can even pull yours out.”
Math laughed softly. “Damn, it’s a lighter.”
Matthew kept his piece pointed at Math’s head. Math slowly pulled a little green lighter out of his pocket and lit his cigarette. Matthew put his piece back in his pants. “Just remember how fast I can pull that out,” Matthew said, and Math nodded.
“You shouldn’t hate me, bro. You know Chris is fucking crazy. I had to do something to start shit on my own before Chris brought everything down, which he did.”
“Bullshit. You just want to be king,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, well your problem is that you don’t,” Math said, inhaling. He had a bitter, calculating look on his face. “I mean, what the fuck did that fucker ever do for you?”
“Never mind that. You’re going to make this shit even crazier when Chris discovers what you’re up to. Why didn’t you just bring your new connections over to the 505s?”
“Because we got a bad rap now. No one wants to deal with us. The MS13s and the Zias and gangs you ain’t never heard of are out there making sure of that. The 505s are going down and you know it. And Chris. Fuck,” he said, shaking his head and then taking another drag and ashing, “he’s not going to make it through the year. He was already an arrogant fucker and crazy with his shit, but now, man, the Zias want to take him out in front of God, yo, they want to show the MS13s they’re bad ass. And me? I was just trying to separate myself, trying to survive. You should be doing the same.”
Matthew contemplated this. It was true, everything he was saying was true. But when it came down to it, Math was dangerous. More dangerous than Chris, because he had no sense of loyalty.
“When we ranked you in, that meant something,” Matthew said. “It’s supposed to be 505s till you die. What the fuck kind of man are you?”
Math shook his head again. “The kind of man that survives. Look, I’ll cut you in, if that’s what you want.”
“No,” Matthew said.
Math began to look nervous then. He knew that the smartest thing to do would be to kill him.
“Maria tell you this shit?” Math asked, putting his cigarette out.
“Yeah,” Matthew said.
Math snorted. “Bitch isn’t stupid.”
Matthew was silent, he watched the Mathematician, who wiped more blood off his mouth.
“The thing is, bro, you’re loyal to the wrong people. Chris, shit, he’d as soon as watch you die as save you. It’s all about how much use you are to him. And Maria? Don’t you get that that bitch is a user? She and me, well, we were fucking long after you told us to quit. Shit, she told me to cut her in on this shit too. I’m guessing she ratted me out because she thought that … shit, I don’t know, she had something to gain. Like I said, she’s not stupid. She plays everyone.”
Matthew felt shock build through him. “That’s a fucking lie,” he said. “You fucking liar. You’re just saying that to save your own ass.”
“Think what you want bro, but I’m telling you, Chris is going down. And you know what? I know you two been fucking. But you better remember something: no matter what that bitch says, she loves Chris. Bitch will always go back to him. She’ll make fun of him, she’ll betray him, she’ll fuck everyone close to him, but it’s only to get his attention. Don’t you know women like that? There are always women like that. I was only fucking her so I could get information about Chris’s connections out of her. I knew from the get-go that this shit was not gonna fly forever.”
Matthew didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to believe him. But she did make fun of Chris with him. …
“I don’t know man, I just don’t know …” Matthew said, feeling weak.
“Look bro, if you want out of the 505s, just lay low. Don’t do shit. You got a place with me, but I ain’t gonna rat on you to nobody if you don’t want it. I don’t know what else you’ll do after this shit, but shit, if you want out …”
Matthew thought for a moment. He knew what he was saying about Maria was a lie. And the rest, it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t do shit until the next shipment. He just had to make it to that. Then he and Maria would finally be free.
