Vanilla Ride Read Online Free PDF Page B

bully.”
    “You had to do it.”
    “I still don’t like it.”
    “Had she been wearing a nose ring, would you have felt better?”
    “Just a bit,” I said. “I really hate those things. Seriously tattooed arms would have helped too.”
    Leonard grinned and shook his head. “You worry too much about things that are done, my brother. She’s taken beatings for no reason and you punched her because you wanted to keep your eyes in your head and get her away from those boneheads. Give yourself some slack.”
    “Hitting women is not on my list of gentlemanly activities.”
    “Well, whipping people’s asses and throwing their dog out the window might not be on the list either.”
    “Yeah … well… At least I didn’t shoot anyone.”
    “That’s right, point that out, put it all on me. But unlike you, I don’t feel guilty… Listen, man. You did what you had to do. And now we got to do something else. The .38 and dickhead’s automatic.”

    We drove down some back trails and stopped by a little run of water that was just off the road and flowed out into the woods. The road was pretty messy and I figured if it rained harder it would be difficult to get down it, and even more difficult to get back out.
    Climbing out of the truck, Leonard got some gloves from the toolbox fastened to the bed and wiped the .38 clean and threw it into the woods, into the shallow water there. He took the automatic and did the same.
    We got back in the truck and I got back on the main road. “They find that stuff,” Leonard said, “it don’t mean a thing. We didn’t own the automatic. And your .38 was as cold as the cunt between a dead nun’s legs … Hey, Gadget. She’s coming to.”
    Gadget sat up in the back and I watched her in the rearview mirror. She had a hand to her head. Right where I had hit her. “You hit me,” she said.
    “Right between the eyes,” I said.
    “He feels bad about it,” Leonard said.
    “That don’t mean a damn thing to me. My head hurts.”
    “He did it with love,” Leonard said.
    “Who the fuck are you?” Then it struck her. “Ah, I know … My grandpa’s friends. Hank and Larry.”
    “Hap and Leonard,” Leonard said. “I’m Leonard, and he’s Hap. You can remember the names because he’s a white guy and I’m a black guy.”
    “I can see that… I know who you are.”
    “Yeah, but can you remember which of us is which,” Leonard said. “Black guy, Leonard. White guy, Hap.”
    “Why did you do it?” she said.
    “Your grandpa asked us to,” I said. “And he’s a friend, and we remember when you were a baby and everyone thought you were going to grow up to be worth something.”
    “That don’t mean nothin’,” she said. “I don’t even remember you guys.”
    “In truth, you may not mean all that much to us,” Leonard said, “but Marvin, he means a lot. Come on, gal. What the hell you doin’? We know you got raised better than that.”
    “You don’t know nothin’.”
    “We know that,” I said. “We know you weren’t raised to bang drugdealers in a trailer with roaches in the walls and dog shit and a near empty jar of cheap peanut butter on the floor.”
    “Don’t forget the cocaine,” Leonard said.
    “That too,” I said.
    “And a criminal dog,” Leonard said. “That pup y’all got, he has done gone over to the dark side.”
    Gadget took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes. “I remember Grandpa said you two thought you were funny.”

9
    As we arrived in No Enterprise it started to rain heavy and the sky took on a hazy green look like nature had vomited into the heavens. The wind hit the truck hard enough to move it. Looking at the town through wet swaths made by the wipers, it was even more depressing, a weak hope thrown together with brick and glass. Someone thought the railroad would come through there many years ago, and it didn’t. What was left now was nothing more than a hope and a dream.
    The rain was running deep in the streets and in the gutters.