They were all inside or around someplace close by because their cars were there , the three old junk heaps. When the two pair of headlights came down the roa d f rom the highway and passed the migrant quarters, Mendoza moved away from th e d oorway. He was wearing only his jockey shorts--maybe he should hurry up and pu t s ome clothes on. But the cars weren't coming to his place. They kept going.
Behind him his wife whispered, "Who are they? Do you know them?"
He knew. He was pretty sure he knew. But he said to her, "Stay with th e c hildren."
When she stepped into the doorway to look out he pulled her back because of th e s lip she wore as a nightgown. It showed dull white in the moonlight and he wa s a fraid they would see her, even though he knew they were all the way to Vincent's house by now.
She said again, "Who are they?"
"I don't know," Mendoza answered. "But they don't have any business with us an d t hey're not friends I know of. Go to bed."
She lingered, but finally moved away from him. When he heard the springs an d k new she was in bed again, he pushed open the screen door carefully and wen t o utside, holding the door to close it, so it wouldn't make noise. On the step s o f the porch, looking down the road, he could see the headlights of the two car s i n front of Vincent's house. He didn't know if they were waiting or if they ha d g one inside. He said, God, why don't they leave? He's not there, they can se e t hat, so go on, get out of here. Vincent was with a girl, talking, drinkin g b eer. He could be gone for hours, having a good time; stay out late he coul d s till get up early and work. They didn't know him.
He saw them in the headlights for a moment and faintly heard the car doors slam , then went into the house again as the cars came back this way. He was sure the y w ere going to pass his house, leave, and when the cars turned in--coming straigh t a t his house before stopping close to the porch--he couldn't believe it and bega n b acking away from the screen door, but not soon enough. The headlights wer e b linding and he knew they could see him. He could hear the engines idling. Som e m en, three of them, dark shapes were coming up on the porch. When they came int o t he house he still couldn't see them because of the headlights.
One of them walked past him. He heard his wife's voice. "What do you want?"
Frightened. He didn't hear the children.
Renda said, "Where is he?"
Mendoza thought of his wife and three children in the bedrooms, behind him. Wha t w as he? A guy standing in his underwear who just got waked up out of a soun d s leep. How was he supposed to know what was going on?
He said, "I don't know. You mean Vincent Majestyk? Isn't he at home?"
He had never seen Eugene Lundy before and didn't see his features now, only a b ig shape that stepped up close to him. The next thing he knew he was hit in th e m outh with a fist and felt the wall slam against his back. The man reached fo r h im then and held him against the wall so he wouldn't fall down.
"Where is he?" Renda said again.
"I don't know," Mendoza said. "Believe me, I knew I'd tell you."
"He go into town?"
"I don't know," Mendoza said. "Honest to God, I thought he was home in bed."
Renda waited, knowing he was wasting time. The guy was probably telling th e t ruth. He said, "Bring him along. And his wife."
They brought everybody out of the migrant quarters, pushing them to hurry up , making them stand in front of the place, in underwear or just pants, barefoot , squinting in the glare of the truck's headlights. Mendoza and his wife wer e p ushed into the group by the men with guns in their hands who stood out of th e l ight. The migrants waited, everyone too afraid to speak or ask what was goin g o n.
Finally Lundy, who stood with Renda next to the truck, said to them, "We'r e l ooking for the boss. Who wants to tell me where he's at?" Lundy waited, givin g t hem time. In the silence they could hear the crickets in the melon field.
"Nobody knows, huh?" Lundy said then. "Nobody heard where he was going or sa w h im leave?"
Quietly, to Lundy, Renda said, "We got a dead cop and we're running out of time.
Get rid of them."
Renda walked off into the darkness, toward the packing shed. He heard Lundy tel l t hem, "You all've got two minutes to get in your cars and drive away from her e a nd never come back." He heard one of the migrants say, a weak little voice wit h a n accent, "We been working, but we haven't been paid yet. How we suppose to ge t p aid?" And he heard Lundy say, "Keep talking, I'm going to start busting som e h eads. Now you people get the hell out of here. Now."
The doors of the packing shed were open. Renda went up the steps to the loadin g d ock and looked inside. He could make out the conveyor and the melons on th e c anvas belt. He was curious about the place--as if the place might be able t o t ell him something about the man who owned it. Feeling along the wall inside th e d oor, he found the light switch. Outside there was a sound of engines trying t o s tart and finally turning over.
Lundy and the one with the machine gun came in. Renda was staring at the wall o f c artons, the melons that had been sorted and packed that evening.
"Man's been busy," Lundy said.
"I said to him what do you want?" Renda continued to stare at the wall of melo n c artons and Lundy and the one with the machine gun looked over at him. "He said I want to get my melons in," Renda went on. "That's all he wanted. Get hi s m elons in."
Lundy couldn't believe it when he saw Frank pull out his .45 automatic--Chris t a lmighty--and start firing it at the stacked-up melon cases, firing away, makin g a n awful racket in the place, until his gun was empty.
Renda looked at them then. He seemed calm. His voice was, and said, "What're yo u w aiting for?"
Lundy always did what he was told. It didn't have to make sense. He took out hi s b ig magnum and opened up at the cartons. Then the other one with the machine gu n l et go and the din was louder than before. They tore up the cartons, lacing the m w ith bullet holes. Renda took the machine gun from the guy, turned to th e c onveyor, and shot up all the melons left on the canvas belt, blew them apart , scattering pieces all over the shed.
Christ, Lundy thought. He hoped Frank felt better now.
Kopas had been told they'd probably drop his truck off later that night , somewhere near the county road intersection west of Edna, where there was that Enco station on the corner and the cafe. Kopas asked what time. Lundy said, whe n t hey got back. But if they had to take some people somewhere--and Kopas had a h unch he meant the migrants--then he wouldn't get his truck back until morning.
But the migrants had cars. They could run them off in their own cars and no t h ave to take them anywhere. So Kopas was pretty sure the truck would be bac k t onight.
He hung around the cafe-bar that evening, going outside and looking up th e h ighway every once in a while. Being sure they had gone to Majestyk's place, h e w as anxious to know if they had killed him. If they hadn't been able to for som e r eason--and if Renda was with them--he was anxious for Renda to see him again.
Renda might decide he was a handy man to have around after all: he was alert , waited, did what he was told.
When Majestyk and the girl arrived, he was in the Men's Room of the cafe-bar. He c ame back into the room that was about half full of Chicanos and spotted Majestyk and the girl right away, sitting in a booth along the wall. He didn't s ee the two deputies at the bar--Ritchie and a deputy who had met him here--didn't n otice them because they were in work clothes, and all Kopas was thinking abou t w as getting out of there before Majestyk looked over. He glanced at the boot h a gain as he went out the door--leaving the light and the smoke and the lou d c ountry steel-guitar beat inside--and saw Majestyk listening to something th e g irl was saying, giving her his full attention. Good.
He was more excited now than earlier in the day when he was out in the desert , the plane was taking off, and he was waiting to meet the famous Frank Renda. He s aw Majestyk's pickup, parked a short way down from the cafe. He had a though t a
nd began looking at the other cars, on both sides of the highway, and there i t w as, the State Highway Department truck. It was parked at the Enco station b y t he pumps; the station closed for the night.
Kopas started putting things together in his mind. They hadn't gotten Majesty k b ecause Majestyk was inside. Also a cop was in there, or around someplace. He w as more anxious now than ever. He went across the highway and across the count y r oad to wait there at the intersection, moving around, wanting them to hurry u p a nd come before the guy left. About fifteen minutes passed. He was so anxiou s f or them to come that, when he saw the three pair of headlights approaching, h e k new it was them and couldn't be anyone else. The thing now was he had to ac t c ool and hold down his excitement.
Lundy, slowing down for the intersection, saw the figure on the corner. He r ecognized the shirt, bright in the headlights, and the sunglasses and th e c urled-brim Texas hat. He said to Renda, next to him, "There's Bobby. He look s l ike he's got to take a leak or something."
Kopas was there as the car came to a stop, hunched down to look in the sid e w indow. He said, as calmly as he could, "Mr. Renda . . . man you want's insid e t hat place over there, having a beer."
Renda said, "Alone?"
"With a girl. One works for him."
"Where's the cop sitting?" Renda said.
The good feeling was there and it was gone as he felt his confidence begin t o d rain out of him. Kopas straightened and, with a squinting, serious expression , looked over toward the State Highway Department truck parked at the gas station.
He said, "I'm not exactly sure yet, Mr. Renda. But you want me to, I'll fin d o ut."
He was not aware of the country music or the two deputies at the bar or th e o ther people in the place. Not right now. His hand was on the bottle of beer , but he was not drinking it. He was looking at the girl's eyes, at the pear l e arrings and the way her dark hair was parted on the side, without the bandana , and had a silver clip holding it back, away from her face.
Nancy said, "Do you mind my asking about her?"
"No, it's all right." Majestyk paused. "I don't know, I guess people change. Or e lse it turns out they're somebody else all the time and you didn't realize it.
Do you think it's hard to know people?"
"Not always," Nancy said. "Was she blond, with blue eyes?"
"Most of the time blond. You put your hair up in rollers? You have very prett y h air."
"Once in a while I have. Why?"
"I picture my wife, I see her with rollers. She was always fooling with he r h air, or washing it."
"You have any kids?"
"Little girl, seven."
"And you miss her."
"I guess I do. I haven't seen either of them in two years. They moved to Los Angeles."
A silence began to lengthen and Nancy said, "Are you thinking about them?"
"No, not really."
"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking I'd like to know you better."
"Well, I'll fill out a personnel form," Nancy said. "Read it over, see if I pass."
"Always a little bit on the muscle." He was staring at her as he said, "You'r e v ery pretty."
"No, not very. But I suppose not bad-looking either. Not somebody you'd kick ou t o f bed, huh, if that's what you've got in mind."
"Why don't you try and relax a little," Majestyk said, "and be yourself. Fin d o ut what it's like."
"You want to go to bed with me. Why don't you say it?"
"I'd like to hold you."
"See how close we can get?"
"Sometimes, hard as you try, you can't get close enough," he said. "You kno w t hat?" She didn't answer, but he knew by her expression, the soft smile, she wa s a ware of the feeling. Wanting to lie very close to someone, holding each other , not saying anything, because they wouldn't have to use words to say it.
He said, "Let's go home, all right? Go to my house."
There was no need to make him wait. Or, as he said, to be on the muscle. She wa s a ware that they knew each other, each other's feelings. She knew she could rela x w ith him and be herself. Still she hesitated, she supposed out of habit, befor e s aying to him, "All right, your house." She smiled then as he smiled. "But first I'll go to the Ladies'--if it isn't locked."
"If it is," he said, "I'll kick it open."
He watched her cross the room--and the men looking up at her as she passed thei r t ables--to the little hall that led back to the kitchen and the rest rooms.
He saw a man come away from the jukebox and turn into the hallway and knew, eve n b efore the man with the hat and the sunglasses looked over his shoulder an d g rinned at him, it was Bobby Kopas. Majestyk started to slide out of the booth , rising. Then stopped, and sat down again as he felt the pressure of the hand o n h is shoulder.
"How you doing, buddy?"
Majestyk looked up, then past Renda toward the bar. "There're two cops sittin g o ver there."
Renda took his time. He slid into the seat where Nancy had been and looked at Majestyk before saying, "If there weren't, you'd already be dead."
Majestyk's eyes went to the hallway again. Kopas was still there, watching.
"Leave the girl alone, all right? She doesn't have anything to do with this."
"I don't give a shit about the girl," Renda said. "As long as she stays in th e c an, out of the way. I got something to tell you. You probably already know it , but I want to make sure you do. I'm going to kill you."
"When?" Majestyk said.
"I don't know. It could be tomorrow. It could be next week." Renda spoke in a n ormal tone, quietly, without the sound of a threat in his voice. "You coul d h ide in the basement of the police station, but I'm going to get you and yo u k now it."
Majestyk raised the beer bottle and took a drink. Putting it down again his han d r emained on the bottle and he seemed to study it thoughtfully before looking at Renda again.
"Can I ask you why?"
"I told you why. We make a deal or you're dead. The fact I got off has go t n othing to do with it. You jammed me. You tried to, and nobody does that."
"I don't guess I can talk you out of it then, huh?"
"Jesus Christ--"
"Or there's anything I can do about it?"
"You can run," Renda said. "I'll find you. You can live at the police station.
But you got to come out some time. There's no statute of limitations on thi s o ne. Whether I kill you tonight or a year from tonight, you're still going to b e d ead."
Majestyk nodded and was thoughtful again, fooling with the beer bottle. He said , "Well, I guess I got nothing to lose, have I?"
He raised the bottle in his left hand, but it was the right fist that did th e j ob, hooked into Renda's face, in the moment he was distracted by the bottle , and slammed him back against the partition. There was no purpose in hitting hi m a gain or hitting him with the bottle. There was little satisfaction in it; bu t h e was letting the guy know he wasn't a goat tied to a post. If Renda wanted hi m h e was going to have to work for it.
The people at the next tables saw the blood and look of pure astonishment on Renda's face. They saw the expression begin to change as he touched his face, a d ead expression that told nothing, but stared at Vincent Majestyk as he got u p f rom the table.
They heard Majestyk lean over, his hands on the table, and say to the man he ha d h it, "Why don't you call the cops?" They watched him walk away as the man sa t t here.
Bobby Kopas didn't like it at all, what was happening now. Majestyk comin g t oward him. Renda, in the booth, who could stand up any second and star t b lasting the guy. The two cops at the bar, trying to see past the people at th e t ables who were standing now.
But nothing happened. Kopas stepped back as Majestyk came into the hallway an d w ent past him--didn't even look at him--to the Ladies' Room. He didn't d o a nything. Renda didn't. Nobody did. Majestyk pushed open the door to the Ladies'
Room and said to the girl
who was standing there, "Let's go home."
It could have been a good night. Then there was no chance of it being even a p retty good night. They got back to the place to find no one there. Not even Mendoza and his family. Majestyk saw the flares and the flashing lights acros s t he field, on the highway. The lights were there for some time before he wen t o ver and found out a deputy had been killed. Hit and run it looked like.
Harold Ritchie blew up when he saw Majestyk. He said, "Goddamn it, you're th e o ne started this!"
Majestyk said to him, "Listen, an hour ago I had fourteen people at my plac e c ounting my foreman and his family. Now everybody's gone, chased off whil e y ou're sitting in a bar drinking beer."
"And a man was killed and we don't know who done it because I had to watch you!"
Ritchie yelled at him.
There was no point standing on the highway arguing with a sheriff's deputy i n t he pink-red flickering light of the flares that had been set around the area.
Majestyk went home. He told Nancy what had happened, then told her to sleep i n t he bedroom, he'd sleep on the couch in the living room. When she objected h e s aid, "I'm not going to argue with you. You're sleeping in there."
She didn't say any more and he didn't either. It wasn't until the next mornin g t hey found out what had been done inside the packing shed.
Chapter 10.
WHEN NANCY came into the shed, Majestyk was opening the cartons that wer e s titched with bullet holes and stained where juice from the melons had seepe d o ut. She looked at the open cartons scattered about the floor, at the chunks o f m elon, yellow fragments, on the conveyor line.
"If he can't have you, he'll take your melons," the girl said. "How does i t l ook?"
"Some are all right."
He walked past her, out to the loading dock, and stared at his empty fields an d t he pale morning sky. Some were all right. Spend a half day to sort them, mayb e h ave one load to deliver to the broker. Most of the crop was still on the vines.
If he could get it in he would at least break even and be able to try it agai n n ext year. If he could get the crop in. If he could get a crew. And if Rend a w ould forget the whole thing and leave him alone.