The Martini Shot Read Free Page B

Leticia.”
    â€œLeave outta here, Verdon.”
    I listened to the bass of a rap thing, coming from another apartment. Behind it, a woman and a man were having an argument.
    â€œWhat happened?” I said. “Why you been cryin?”
    â€œMarquise came,” said Leticia. “Marquise made me cry.”
    My stomach dropped some. I tried not to let it show on my face.
    â€œThat’s right,” said Leticia. “Flora musta told him about our conversation. Wasn’t hard for him to find Rico’s aunt.”
    â€œHe threaten you?”
    â€œHe never did, direct. Matter of fact, that boy was smilin the whole time he spoke to me.” Leticia’s lip trembled. “We came to an understandin, Verdon.”
    â€œWhat he say?”
    â€œHe said that Flora was mistaken. That she wasn’t there the night Rico was killed, and she would swear to it in court. And that if I thought different, I was mistaken, too.”
    â€œYou sayin that you’re mistaken, Leticia?”
    â€œThat’s right. I been mistaken about this whole thing.”
    â€œLeticia—”
    â€œI ain’t tryin to get myself killed for five hundred dollars, Verdon.”
    â€œNeither am I.”
    â€œThen you better go somewhere for a while.”
    â€œWhy would I do that?”
    Leticia said nothing.
    â€œYou give me up, Leticia?”
    Leticia cut her eyes away from mine. “Flora,” she said, almost a whisper. “She told him ’bout some skinny, older-lookin dude who was standin in the alley the day I took her for bad.”
    â€œYou gave me up?  ”
    Leticia shook her head slowly and pushed the door shut. It closed with a soft click.
    I didn’t pound on the door or nothin like that. I stood there stupidly for some time, listening to the rumble of the bass and the argument still going between the woman and man. Then I walked out the building.
    The snow was coming down heavy. I couldn’t go home, so I walked toward the Avenue instead.
    Â Â 
    I had finished the rest of my vodka and dropped the bottle to the curb by the time I got down to Georgia. A Third District cruiser was parked on the corner, with two officers inside it, drinking coffee from paper cups. It was late, and with the snow and the cold there wasn’t too many people out. The Spring Laundromat, used to be a Roy Rogers or sumshit like it, was packed with men and women, just standing around, getting out of the weather. I could see their outlines behind that nicotine-stained glass, most of them barely moving under those dim lights.
    This time of night, many of the shops had closed. I was hungry, but Morgan’s Seafood was shut down, and Hunger Stopper, had those good fish sandwiches, was dark inside. What I needed was a drink of liquor, but Giant had locked its doors. I could have gone to the titty bar between Newton and Otis, but I had been roughed up in there too many times.
    I crossed over to the west side of Georgia and walked south. I passed a midget in a green suede coat who stood where he always did, under the awning of the Dollar General. I had worked there for a couple of days, stocking shit on shelves.
    The businesses along here were like a roll call of my personal failures. The Murray’s meat and produce, the car wash, the Checks Cashed joint, they had given me a chance. In all these places, I had lasted just a short while.
    I neared the GA market, down by Irving. A couple of young men came toward me, buried inside the hoods of their North Face coats, hard of face, then smiling as they got a look at me.
    â€œHey, slim,” said one of the young men. “Where you get that vicious coat at? Baby Gap?” Him and his friend laughed.
    I didn’t say nothing back. I got this South Pole coat I bought off a dude, didn’t want it no more. I wasn’t about to rock a North Face. Boys put a gun in your grill for those coats down here.
    I walked on.
    The market was crowded