“Why?”
“Do us both a favor and don’t ask.”
She nods and heads out. I go inside and pull Candy aside. Explain the situation to her.
“Sure,” she says. “Let’s do it tonight.”
“Perfect. It’ll give Kasabian time to change all the locks.”
Kasabian limps down from upstairs, carrying sheets and pillowcases.
“What are you two whispering about?”
“We’re planning your birthday party.”
“Good. I like piñatas.”
“And porn,” says Candy.
“Piñatas full of porn. Got it.”
Allegra comes back with the supplies a couple of hours later. I’ll have to get a van to transport all the gear to her place. I can tell Kasabian is curious about what we’re planning, but he’s smart enough not to ask questions, especially after he sees the roll of barbed wire I steal off the back of a PG&E truck.
I STEAL AN Escalade from the parking lot in front of Donut Universe. It has a built-in sound-and-video system that’s better than most movie theaters. Only a few hours since we left the Chateau and I’m already feeling nostalgic.
We load the Escalade in the alley next to Max Overdrive. It’s a tight fit. I had to drive the Hellion hog over and it takes up a lot of room.
When we’ve loaded the gear, Candy and I head out to Allegra’s place on Kenmore, due south of Little Armenia. Her building is a converted seventies-era motel called the Angels’ Hideaway. Dying palms out front. A pool with a foot of black water out back.
Someone comes out of Allegra’s apartment around eight. Heavyset white guy with his hair combed into an idiot fauxhawk. He carries himself so that everyone will notice his bulk. Typical jailhouse attitude. He doesn’t look like Allegra’s type, but I didn’t know her back in the day, so maybe she liked big boys with cinder blocks for brains. I have a feeling he didn’t spend his time in prison getting a GED or learning Latin. Probably pumped a lot of iron. Probably got dumber and meaner. By the time he walks out of sight, I don’t feel at all bad about what’s going to happen.
It takes two trips to carry everything into the apartment. The place has a simple layout. A short entryway that leads to a living room. A kitchen off to the side. You can’t get anywhere in the apartment without going through the living room first. That’s important. Candy and I shove all the boxes and furniture against the walls. Then the real work begins.
First lay down both layers of tarp. Next, cover them with plenty of dishwashing soap to turn them into slip-’n-slides, careful to leave dry areas around the edges to walk on. After that, Candy and I have a party breaking all the glasses and tossing the pieces onto the soapy tarp.
“Is this too mean?” she says. “Couldn’t we just beat him with a bag of oranges?”
“Hammering people up just makes them angry. If you want to permanently modify someone’s attitude, the thing to do is go full-tilt diabolical.”
“This is more like a Road Runner cartoon.”
“We haven’t gotten to the diabolical part yet.”
We put on the work gloves and roll out a few yards of the barbed wire, slicing it to length with the cutters. Then bend the wire into a wide circle and keep bending along its length until we have a spiral big enough to fit a man inside. When we’re finished, it goes over by the end of the tarp farthest from the door. Lastly, we unscrew all the bulbs in the room except for one small table lamp that I keep turned off for now. The only light in the apartment is what filters in through the blinds. I close those so the place is as dark as midnight in a jug.
After that, there’s nothing to do but wait for handsome, young Matthew to come home, happy and a little crocked. Candy and I sit and lean against the refrigerator.
“This is the first time we’ve been really alone in a month,” she says.
“You’re right.”
“I think we should celebrate.”
“Chicken and waffles?”
“I know something cheaper.”
She climbs on top of me and puts my hands on her breasts. Begins to grind her crotch against mine.