The Haze Read Free

interested.”
    He was interested, but the silence was working for him so it was hard to stop. Spent his life talking. Spent his life giving shit and taking it, messing with people, making them do what he wanted them to, setting them up with just the right words. Now he was seeing the beauty of stillness, the raw power of it.
    â€œI can see you’re not up to talking about it just now. But I’ll be back at bedtime, if you want to discuss it, what I got in mind, we can do it then, or whenever you’re ready, fine by me.”
    Javier left.
    He climbed into bed and read the book. The story was waiting for him like stories do. Right where he left it. Christ it was hard to keep it all straight. You had a life, a long, complicated life full of a thousand things every day, you heard things, read things, lived things, how could you know which compartment anything was stored in, where it happened originally? Some people could do it, sure. People could say, yeah, that was from here and that was from there. And that meant they could stay in their own houses and not get shipped to the home. But what was that? Knowing where something was from, where it originated. Hey, who gives a shit? It was all knocking around inside him, equal parts this, and equal parts that.
    The old lady serial killer was an experienced lover, a woman of the world who knew her business. She was beautiful in bed, perfect and beautiful. She reminded him of someonehe’d made love to a long time ago when he was a young man. A Mexican girl of nineteen or twenty named Linda Vargas, black shining hair, black shining eyes. Or was she a character in a book? It didn’t matter. He loved that woman, Linda Vargas, just the same as he loved the lady serial killer, loved her up and down and inside and out, her skin like rose petals and silk, her skin as sleek and soft as summer moonlight filtering through a sweet midnight haze.
    And he stopped reading.
    You had to stop sometimes. Show a little discipline, leave some in the bottle for tomorrow. He pulled up the sheets. His hand sliding into his underpants. His old friend. Been through the wars together, sleeping now, taking a furlough, on the sidelines. But he gave it a few pulls for old times’ sake, felt it come to life. Half life anyway. Half was all he could manage. This time of life half was plenty.
    He slept.
    The important thing about missions is to keep them going. They can change, you had to adjust to circumstances, but you keep going forward, keep the goal in mind, otherwise, what’ve you got? You got that Greek guy pushing the boulder up the mountain and it sliding down the other side. You got one hazy day after another, the days stacking up without any progress, any hope.
    Javier came with his sunnysides.
    â€œYou have a nice night sleeping?”
    â€œI might’ve slept, I don’t know. The state I’m in, how’m I supposed to tell?”
    â€œYou consider my proposal?”
    â€œI need to hear a price.”
    â€œI been thinking about that, about money, you know what it’s worth to you, what the risk I’m taking is worth to me, and I’m having a hard time putting a number on it. But okay, since you want a number, okay, five thousand, I get you out of here, take you wherever you want to go, drop you off free and clear.”
    â€œFive thousand bucks.”
    â€œAmerican dollars. You get the first class ride out of here.”
    â€œI don’t trust you, Javi.”
    â€œYou think I take your money, don’t deliver? What am I, crazy? You think I risk that, knowing who you are, what you did in your life, before you came to the home, the way you made your money. You think I’d cross a man like you?”
    â€œI’m old. Some days I’m confused. Wouldn’t be hard to pull one on me.”
    â€œI know you’d come for me. I know you’d track me down wherever I hid. Isn’t no running from men like you. Professionals. I