Waltz of Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

We went over to Dave’s place and watched it on video. I’ve never been so turned on in all my life, seeing me and the others on film. Shots of the train coming, throwing out its light. The sounds of mine and Sharon’s breathing and that train whistle, it was some kind of aphrodisiac.”
    “I’ll stick to oysters,” I said.
    Bill picked up the wine bottle and took a long gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said,” Don’t worry, Uncle Hank. I’m coming to the photo book. What I know, anyway.”
    “Time you get there, I’ll be too old and blind to look at the pictures—provided I really want to.”
    “I tell myself I don’t want to look at them either, but I keep looking. Last night I got up and went to the bathroom, got to thinking about that damn book lying in here, and I came back and turned on the lamp and sat there and looked at it for a half hour before I went to bed. Had bad dreams. Told myself never again. But this morning, before I called you, I got it out again.”
    Bill shook the wine bottle and turned it around and around in his hand. “I should have told that
Dave sonofabitch, all of them, goodbye. But I didn’t. I felt initiated into something. How many guys
you know have got off with a beautiful woman to the thunder and lights of a speeding train?”
    “Want the short list?”
    “Exactly.” He finished off the wine, and continued his story.
     
•  •  •
     
       So I’m hanging out with them, and one day we’re over at Dave’s apartment, and he says out of nowhere, “Now’s the time.”
    Just like that. “Now’s the time.” And everyone goes quiet. Dave could do that to you. He was a psycho, but there was something about him. Just his voice could pull you up straight.
    He starts laying out what he’s got in mind, and if ever I was born for a superior stupid moment, I was agreeing with what he wanted. His idea was we kidnap someone. Not kidnapping the way you’re thinking. Not for money. Least it wasn’t for money at first. And the plan wasn’t to keep them for any real length of time. Sort of a thrill kidnapping. That’s why I agreed to it. I thought of it as being pretty harmless.
    Dave said he wanted us to pick some guy who looked kinda stiff. Someone this kind of thing would really jack around. Not that anyone I can think of, except maybe the crowd I was running with, would get a kick out of being kidnapped. But he thought we’d grab a real straight and give him a serious thrill. Make him think we’re gonna do something drastic. Scare him good. Then we’d paint his balls blue, and let him go. I mean, literally, paint his balls blue. Or something stupid like that.
    I know, it’s ridiculous. But you got to understand the frame of mind I was in. My whole life, since my Dad’s death, has been kind’a screwed. Mom did her best. I know that. I’m not putting the Indian sign on anyone. I’m just saying, I feel kind of… out there. Like the airlock blew on the space ship and sucked me into space without my suit and I’m gasping for air.
    Suddenly I’m getting balled by this gal looks like a movie star, and I’m around people who know how to make me feel alive.
    We spent a few days figuring on how to choose our victim. We didn’t want to pick a kid. That was too mean. And what’s it take to scare a kid? No challenge in that. We figured on some guy fat and happy, cruising along with life paying him all the dividends.
    Me and Dave were like the scouts for the victim. We decided to go over to the public library every day, hang out there in the morning reading the newspapers, pretending to study our books, and from the windows by the street, we could see Imperial Bank across the way. Figured if we wanted a fat cat, that’d be where we’d find him. Going in and out of the bank.
    Me and Dave got our eyes on this guy we’d seen a couple days in a row. Or rather Dave did. He said right away, “That’s our guy.” I guess it was Dave’s show all