We drove south down H Street. “Wasn’t surprised not to see you back there in the crowd, nor at the hospital,” I said. “So what’s changed, why are you here?”
Sam snorted. “Things ain’t changed for squat. I figure your vanity’s getting swelled enough without me feeding into any of this crap. Besides, maybe I don’t like crowds either.”
He was silent for a moment, and then said, “It wasn’t my place, okay? This belonged to you, it was no part of me.”
“It’s all good,” I said.
I glanced around the car, absently cataloging Sam’s worldly possessions. On the floorboards at my feet amongst the other garbage, I saw a filthy old Kodachrome with a boot print stamped on it. It was a photo of a younger me with much more hair, holding baby Sam in my arms.
Baby Sam looked up at Kodachrome Me adoringly even through the boot print. In the picture I had a dopey smile on my face as I looked back down at him; we both appeared inordinately pleased with each other.
I started to bend over and reach for it, but realized Sam was watching me sidelong. I pulled out my wallet instead and sat back up, thumbing through the meager contents like that had been my intention the whole time. If it was okay with Sam this photo was down in the trash, I wasn’t about to show him it bothered me.
“Did Big Moe have a chance to tell you what he wanted yet?” Sam asked out the side of his mouth.
I turned in my seat to click in on him fully, studying his attempt at keeping an expressionless profile. I began cogitating on the ramifications of Sam and Moe sharing the same agenda, whatever that furtive activity list might be.
“No,” I said. “He and I were rudely interrupted in our interactions. Not really sure I should swing by there, though. Natalie thinks I killed her old man, but at least Moe was a gracious host – I kind of got the feeling he wasn’t eager to let me leave.”
Sam looked at me quick before returning his gaze to the road ahead. “You should count your blessings they held off on you.”
“And whose idea was it to be so nice? Yours?”
Sam snorted as we drove past the hospital, and then took the road up the ridge. “You wish. Sure, Moe wants something from you. But I think you maybe want to hear him out. I promised him I’d do my best to make it happen.”
“And why would I want to impose on Gardens hospitality again?”
“I know it means nothing to you, how Big Moe had to scramble to come up with a good reason not to feed you to Natalie and Leo. Maybe Moe’s president of the Crips – but you have no idea what a juggling act it is for him to keep them all happy, and make them toe the line.”
“So I’ll keep it simple,” Sam said. “You’ll come with me for the best of all possible reasons, old man: because there’s something in it for you, something I know will make you very happy.” He turned left and down into the wide hollow the Gardens nestled in.
“You don’t have to worry about Natalie, go ahead and keep playing house with her,” Sam said as we drove around that phantom rectangle of empty lots. “She was always a good girl; I always liked her. She won’t do shit to you without Moe gives her the go ahead, and he ain’t gonna if only because you’re my dad.
“And as for Wayne? He was always an asshole, me and Moe are just as happy he’s gone to tell the truth. Natalie, Randy, and Leo are the only ones who’ll miss him; you won’t get any comeback from any of the other 18th Street Crips.”
“Your cold-blooded analysis is very reassuring, boy. Nice to know I’m staking my life on your people skills.”
Sam slammed on the brakes as we started entering the Gardens through its sole access road. “Something brought you back on up here to Stagger Bay. You ain’t got no parole hanging over your head. You could’ve gone anywhere the waves tossed you without worrying about getting violated – but I guess you got nowhere else to go, do you old man?”
A drug customer honked angrily behind us as Sam scowled at me. “Are you in the car or out of it? No one’s twisting your arm.”
He looked down at Alden’s card, which I was studying after I realized it was still in my wallet. “What up?”
“Some agent wants to represent me, says he can make me a lot of cash.”
I made like I was going to toss it out the window, but Sam grabbed my arm. “Maybe you should sleep on it,” he said, “I’m your next of kin if you get deceased after all.”
He stepped on the gas and we entered the Gardens. I shrugged and put Alden’s pasteboard away in my skinny wallet as Sam pulled up in front of Natalie’s hovel.