“Sure,” I said, “By the time the hospital discharges you, both of them will be dead from old age. Good plan.”
“You’re so witty,” Hondo said, then his brow wrinkled, “Mickey’s funeral is today, right?”
I nodded, “Yeah, at one.”
“Tell her parents I’m sorry I can’t be there.”
“I will.”
**
I drove the Yugo to the office where I showered and shaved. I didn’t have a suit, but there was a Men’s Wearhouse not too far away so I drove there and bought a dark blue suit with white shirt and dark blue tie. That made one suit, two pairs of jeans, one black polo short sleeve shirt, six pairs of socks and underwear, four tee shirts and four pairs of athletic shorts. I had one other piece of clothing and was taking it with me to the funeral. The rest of my clothes were all ash-black and blowing across the California landscape with every breeze. I didn’t find any shoes that felt good, so I wore my New Balance shoes with the suit.
The funeral was at graveside, and only a small group of about a dozen people attended. The casket was closed because of the beating Mickey had taken, but I asked the funeral director if I might place something inside the casket.
“I’ll open it for you,” he said. I followed him to the casket and waited until he opened it about six inches. I took my Patagonia windbreaker and placed it be
side her. The director nodded, then closed the casket.
I recognized Mickey’s parents right away. They were small framed like Mickey, and the woman had Mickey’s eyes. The pastor gave a nice eulogy, and he kept it short, not pretending he knew Mickey Haile well. Afterwards I walked by the parents and told them Hondo was ill and couldn’t make it, but that we were sorry for their loss.
The father looked at me a moment and said, “Are you Ronny Baca?”
“Yes.”
He rose and said, “Please walk with me.” I followed him as we moved away from the crowd. He stopped about thirty yards away and turned. I could see grief etched deep into his face. He said, “Mickey was very taken with you.”
“I liked her, too.”
A tiny smile touched his lips when I said ‘her’. He continued, “She thought you could do anything, and she was so proud to have you and Mr. Wells as friends.”
“I’m going to find the people who hurt her, Mr. Haile.”
He appraised me. “I believe you will, Mr. Baca.” He sighed and looked to his wife at the grave site. “I should get back with Mary. Please tell Mr. Wells we wish him a fast recovery.” He walked to his wife and I got into the Yugo, where I sat for several minutes before driving to the office.
**
I changed into jeans and a blue tee shirt, then went through the mutual door of our office and Archie’s gym. I saw Arch coaching one of the Raiders through a leg workout on the extension machine. I recognized him as one of the corners on the Raiders’ defense who lived in Los Angeles in the off season. He was one of those hard-hitting defensive backs that receivers said should have to wear red lights and sirens on their helmets to warn people when they were coming. I remembered he was out last season with a knee injury.
Archie said to him, “I talked to your surgeon yesterday and we worked out a next-level program for you. It’s pretty easy.”
The Pro’s bald, ebony head was already beaded with sweat. He said, “Arch, you think building the pyramids is easy.”
I reached them and said to the D back, “You mind if I talk to Arch for a minute?”
“Please. It’ll give me a break.”
Arch wasn’t going to let it go that easy. He said, “Start with this: three sets of descending reps, twenty-five, twenty, and fifteen, using the same weight. Alternate one leg, then the other and don’t rest between sets, then go to the leg curl machine and do it again for the leg biceps. I want you to work up to using one-fifty on this one.”
“What weight do you want me to start with?”
“Oh, about one-forty-five.” The guy’s eyes widened and I saw Arch slap his thigh and say, “Haw! Just start with less than you think you can lift. Finishing all the reps is what’s most important, building your groove and setting the muscles up for what’ll be coming.”
We left him putting on plates and I said, “I need to use your phone.”
“You don’t have one in your office?”
“If who I phone has caller ID, I don’t want it to show up for the office.”